What We Talk about When We Talk about Overblown

Birdman should be great. There are several good performances, from Michael Keaton (as Riggan Thompson, who played “Birdman” in several big-budget action movies), Andrea Riseborough (as Laura, Riggan’s actress girlfriend), and Zach Galifianakis (expanding to a genuine human being). There’s a great performance from Emma Stone as Thompson’s daughter, Sam. And there’s a nifty and propulsive improvised drum score by Antonio Sanchez.

Unfortunately, co-writer and director Alejandro González Iñárritu is more concerned with the whiz-bang look of the movie—Birdman was filmed to look like it’s one big, long take, but the edits feel stitched together with duct tape and Elmer’s glue and are therefore distracting—than genuine human emotions. And for a guy who’s built a career on melding whiz-bang camera work with human emotions, Iñárritu may have overshot the mark this time.

The story, about Thompson stepping out of the shadow of his movie star role and embracing his inner self with a staging Raymond Carver’s What We Talk About When We Talk About Love on Broadway, is for the birds. Each time there’s supposed to be a big emotional moment, the camera hovers, waiting for an actor to make his cue, or worse, interrupts something that feels genuine. The only time the audience gets to savor a performance is when Sam takes her father out at the knees emotionally. The rest feels showy, and that final scene is too coy to be taken seriously.

BIRDMAN
Directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu
With Keaton, Riseborough and Stone
UA DeVargas 6
R
119 min.