Full of Christmas cheer and goodwill to all, I thought I’d spread a little of it to you. With the help of Fox Entertainment, I had the pleasure of attending a preview screening of BIRDMAN. I know! A review on Christmas Eve! Stop! But the excitement doesn’t end there, because after the review I will be offering a giveaway, courtesy of Fox, I have 5 DVDs up for grabs including Wes Anderson’s rather delightful Grand Budapest Hotel. All you need to do to get your hands on these filmic goodies is to answer a question that will follow the review. So please read on and get on entering so you can make Christmas really epic.

THE REVIEW

A drama of dysfunction that owes alot to Louis Malle’s inspired classic Lift To The Scaffold (coming out on DVD on 12th January) Birdman follows washed-up actor Riggan Thomson (Michael Keaton) as he attempts to revive his career and maintain his sanity with an ambitious theatre production. All the while trying to cope with the pitfalls and chaos of the theatre world and dealing with his ex-addict daughter/assistant (Emma Stone), his girlfriend, fellow co-stars and his ex-wife (Amy Ryan).

A distinct step away from his previous work, Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu’s latest is probably his most withering look at humanity. A commentary not just about the concept of stardom and it’s hollow realities, Inarritu’s Birdman is a myriad of comment. Through Keaton’s weathered Riggan Thomson we see a life of regret; of the realisation that a life has been wasted valuing all the wrong things and not having quite the energy to make it right. Through the setting in a New York theatre we explore the value of art, what it means to be a true artist. And through Thomson’s co-stars we explore what it means to feel worthy or valued and claiming that elusive prestige.

All these themes are looked at through a prism of bizarreness or more appropriately through the improvisational nature of jazz. The improvisional beat of jazz is the skeleton of the film, from the jazz drums serving as the score, the quick camera pans, the ways in which the actors deliver their lines, and the blurring between reality and fantasy, Birdman aims itself as a specific kind of film. An amalgam of magic and reality, a jazz piece gone mad. But does this work for the film?

For the most part yes, with a niggling bit of no.

The parts where the film hits its stride and gets the beat just right are a marvel. I was particularly enamoured by the very long tracking shots (that appear to show the bulk of the film as shot in one continuous take) that follow the actors around the maze of the St James Theatre in New York while their dialogue exchanges are whip paced. Smart and funny. This and the underscored jazz music are Louis Malle to a T. As are the extreme close-ups.

I also have to applaud some of the performances, in particular, Ed Norton as Mike Shiner the cocky thespian who’s less than kind about Riggan’s Hollywood past, and Andrea Riseborough as Riggan’s neglected girlfriend and costar Laura. Full of nuance and complexity, I shouldn’t be surprised by Ed Norton as that is generally his style. But it was nice to see that he also seemed to be having fun. Andrea Riseborough was more of a revelation as I haven’t seen her in much and she seemed to be able to pack a punch in the limited screen time, as both extremely insecure but somehow one of the more self-aware of the whole wacky bunch. Naomi Watts gives a welcomed throwback to her wonderful Mulholland Drive days as Lesley, the equally insecure costar of Riggan’s production.

While all the performances were generally across the board good, excellent even, I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed in Keaton’s performance as the washed-up lead. I may be in the minority but I don’t see Birdman as the big comeback film its been hyped up to be. It’s clever casting in the sense that the film is loosely based on the perception of the man himself. He was once Batman many-a-moon ago. And while he plays the desperate sad-sack well particularly in moments where his ego is at his most vulnerable (his tete a tete with Lindsay Duncan’s formidably toxic theatre journalist is a particular highlight), there seemed to be a general flatness to his performance, one could say almost listlessness that goes beyond the weathered nature of his character.

When Keaton’s does inevitably tip over the edge, his coming apart/explosion is actually quite underwhelming and left me longing for his more quite moments of loss and pain. I also found myself much less interested in scenes when he has nobody but his career making character Birdman voice in his head, longing instead for more explosive tete-a-tetes with his co-stars. It seem Keaton has more presence when he’s working off others in particular his nemesis method-acting Mike whom he loathes and envies because Mike has the popularity AND the admiration of both audiences and critics alike. Birdman convinces me that Keaton may no longer have the chops to carry a film on his own. But maybe that’s the point? Keaton hasn’t the energy of his Beetlejuice days. How could he? His obsessive desire to gain back the adoration he’s lost is really just a fruitless pursuit…

Mind. Blown.

There were also issues with some of the subplots that felt rather rudimentary and cliche for a film striving for individuality. Riggan’s relationship with his daughter, the troubled Sam (Emma Stone) while at times gloriously fractious as well as touching in the unspoken hurt they’ve caused each other, almost felt like a plot stripped out of a daytime soap opera. Script and performances elevate it somewhat but call me heartless it’s wearing to see once again the whole wayward child storyline because “Daddy doesn’t (or seemed not to) love me like I wanted”. Hollywood needs to know that not all children turn into screwed up adults because of an absent parent. It would have been refreshing to have Sam be a well-balanced stranger of daughter trying to reconnect with her father, after all screwed up Sam also serves as voice of reason, why can’t she be the embodiment too? The emotional payoff would have been the same in my book. And as good an actress Amy Ryan is, her character, Griffin Murray – Riggan’s ex-wife, had practically nothing to do. Her presence seemed to be to give exposition about how awful Riggan was at the height of his fame. The audience already got that. It was a thankless role that made me sympathetic to Ryan for all the wrong reasons.

Despite the criticisms, Birdman is an enjoyable bit of movie making and there are masterful moments aplenty. It’s stylishly idiosyncratic, quick paced and witty (I particularly like Keaton’s takedown of Robert Downey Jr) and is a most welcome departure from Inarritu’s usual wrist-wrangling fare. The performances are lively and at times electrifying and the film’s achieves a real sense of textural richness in terms of the world its exploring. Confined mostly within the walls of a dilapidated theatre we enter a world of physical and moral decay. The theatre setting is a physical representation of its inhabitants particularly Riggan Thomson’s state of desperation, regret, tiredness and melancholy. All the while bubbling under is the hungry need for one more moment of recognition, love and adoration. We get a peak at the twisted world of Hollywood and fame. It’s not a pretty sight. Funny but not pretty.

Birdman heads to cinemas across the UK on 1st January 2015. And then catch it’s style influencer Lift To The Scaffold coming out on DVD later on in January.

GIVEAWAY!

If you’ve been paying attention you will have noticed that I’ve more than a few references to a film that adopts similiar techniques to Birdman, one of which being its jazz score. For a chance to win a fantastic selection of 20th Century Fox titles including The Grand Budapest Hotel please answer the following question:

Who performed the score for Lift To The Scaffold?

Answers can be given in the comments sections and a lucky winner will be picked from random and your prize sent to you. Competition ends 13th January where the winner will be announced.

Good luck guys & Happy Holidays
(Go see Birdman!)