“I’m a superhero but what I really want to do is direct.”
That’s the idea behind the highly acclaimed movie Birdman.
Sounds promising, doesn’t it? Is there anything sadder than unfulfilled potential?
I’ve heard nothing but praise for this movie so my expectations were high but I can’t blame high expectations. If I’d never heard of this movie, I still would have found it pretentious, predictable, self-indulgent and worst of all, boring.
It’s billed as a dark comedy. Apparently the word 'dark' in this context means 'anti'. Not one scene or line caused me to crack a smile, much less laugh. I found Edward Norton mildly amusing, the way you find the only semi-sober person in a bar mildly interesting.
I will say this; the performances by Michael Keaton, Emma Stone and E. Norton were excellent. I just resent having spent nearly two hours of my life with their whiny, obnoxious characters.
Ed Norton plays an actor whose brilliant talent is shadowed by the fact that as an individual, he's a car wreck. Gosh, never seen that before. Yawn.
Emma Stone plays the recently rehabbed daughter whose life is defined by her rage at having been neglected by her selfish parents. Wow, that’s new.
Michael Keaton plays an actor whose early success as Birdman, the super hero whose movie franchise peaked ten years before the Age of Superhero Movies now wants to be taken seriously as an actor. Is that a cliché? I just saw Chris Rock play the same guy in a much better (though still just mediocre) movie.
The big surprise twist is that Michael Keaton just may actually be a super hero. Or not. Whatever.
The movie is shot as if with a single camera and no discernable cuts. I don’t care. This is the kind of gimmick that bothers me; like telling me a sculpture is great because it was done entirely with a chain saw or a kitchen spoon. Don’t care. It’s an affectation used by directors desperate to show how clever they are. The best art speaks for itself and the hand of the artist should be invisible. Make a good movie. Forcing me to stare at the back of Michael Keaton’s head for ten seconds at a time does not make you clever.
I haven’t seen a movie this predictable since Unbreakable, when I knew Sam Jackson was the bad guy by the end of the opening scene.
Jay watched this with me. Having become so bored after the first half hour of Birdman*, we entertained each other by predicting every scene.
“They’re gonna kiss.” Jay said as the two actresses calmed down after the disastrous preview.
“He made it all up” I said as Michael Keaton broke down discussing his sad childhood.
I saw the Oscars so I knew about the long walk in his underwear but even as I watched the scene where Keaton accidently locks himself out of the theatre, I was thinking “What kind of an idiot doesn’t keep his foot in the door?”
“God, I hope he grabs a real gun.” Jay muttered as the last act of the opening night started.
“He didn’t do it right.” I said as the audience gave him a standing ovation. “Just like that conversation early in the movie; he did it wrong.”
Midsomer Murders did an episode 20 years ago where the asshole actor accidently commits suicide because someone who hated him switched the prop gun. It was a much better story.
As for the scene in the bar with the critic; Groan. It bears repeating: GROOOAAAAN.
I’ve had it with listening to actors whine about how brave they are. They get paid to stand on a stage and utter words someone else wrote, pretend emotions other people felt, play at battles other people fought. They know what to say and where to stand because someone else is there to tell them. Is it easy? I’m sure it’s not. Is there talent involved? I’ve seen enough bad acting to know that yes, there is definitely talent involved. What do they risk? They risk ridicule. Just like most the population does every time they leave the house.
You know what I think is brave?**
Standing in front of a classroom trying to teach kids math.
Shooting free-throws with a national championship on the line.
Answering a domestic violence call.
Standing in front of your friends, family and God and swearing to love someone for the rest of your life.
Raising kids.
Opening a business.
Running for office.
Taking care of old people.
Showing up every day.
Missionary work.
Physical therapy.
Suffering the loss of a loved one and not letting it rob you of faith and happiness.
In
Believing in God.
I do not include on this list the attempt at public suicide because some rotten critic has threatened to close your play. If that’s your cup of tea, Network was a better movie in every way.
I can’t feel sorry for people who need twitter to validate their existence.
“He’ll get great reviews.” I told Jay when Keaton pulled the trigger and the applause thundered. When the hospital room scene began, Jay cried “Isn’t this thing over yet??” and took himself off to bed.
The denouement was not worth the tedium that preceded it. In fact, if you didn't see the big, surprise ending coming from ten miles away its probably because you were already bored to sleep.
*I don’t know why we didn’t turn it off. Because it’s Michael Keaton? Because the reviews were so good? I don’t know. Jay claims he’ll resent the waste of his time for the rest of his life.
** Snarking about someone’s art online takes no courage at all. But at least these thoughts are my own. And if my sisters who loved (WHY???) this movie disagree with me, I will not be tempted to shoot myself.