Is BIRDMAN The Greatest Movie Of The 21st Century?

Michael Keaton’s Riggan Thomson is an actor unhappy that his career has been overshadowed by Birdman, the comic-book character he played in a trilogy of movies in the 1980s and 1990s. Thomson declined the opportunity to star in a fourth instalment because he was worried that the character would overshadow his career. A quarter of a century later and the Birdman still looms large over Thomson and he’s struggling to be taken seriously as an actor. This is even more cutting because Thomson now sees actors like Robert Downey Jr. embracing the genre and earning huge sums of money. Thomson has adapted the Raymond Carver story What We Talk About When We Talk About Love for the stage, directing and starring in the production. He’s put his own money into the play and he’s banking on its critical and financial success to reignite his career and validate his work as an artist.

The line between reality and fiction in Birdman is blurred. Michael Keaton is Riggan Thomson and Riggan Thomson is Michael Keaton. I don’t mean this in a literal sense. Thomson has much more ego than Keaton and the character seems to have a strong dedication in wanting to stay relevant to audiences. Keaton on the other hand has always seemed to have chosen his career path on roles that interested him, rather than for their box office potential. However, the career baggage that Keaton brings to the role means that we don’t need to be told a back story. Like Thomson did with Birdman, Keaton walked away from the Batman franchise at its height and in a way, both their careers never recovered from being associated with their characters. While Keaton seemed happy with slipping from the limelight, Thomson fights to stay relevant in a world that now only cares about superheroes. Deep down he knows the easiest way to make his comeback is to return to Birdman once more.


This is a career-defining performance for Keaton. It’s a brave role for the actor to take on, but roles like this come along once in a career. It is not a glamorous role. Keaton exposes himself on an emotional and physical level, giving everything to the character. The unflinching camera work shows every wrinkle, crease and crevice on Keaton’s face. Emmanuel Lubezki’s camera captures the reality, not the glamour of being an actor. This is the culmination of Keaton’s life and career on screen and it’s difficult to imagine who else could portray the fear, the anger, the sadness and insanity of the role. There are enough former superhero actors out there who would love a role like this to reignite their careers, but none could capture and channel the intensity like Keaton.

The parallels between Keaton and Thomson are obvious yet superficial and it would be easy (and lazy) to say that he’s just playing himself. The actor is superb, delivering the performance of his career in Iñárritu’s film. He hits a range of acting notes that few could achieve in short notice. He can turn from comedy to drama in an instant without ever making it obvious that he’s acting. Lesser actors would have made the character a comedic buffoon who sees his world crumble around him or made him too serious, a man with one singular obsession that neglects his family and ignores those around him. Keaton covers a range of emotions and makes Thomson a fully-rounded character. He makes him human.

Ego is the central concept of Birdman. Thomson’s ego is driving him to stage the play – he’s set up his own downfall. He’s wealthy enough not to need to work but he wants to create something that people will like. He wants to be applauded and lauded and he’s risked everything to achieve this. The Birdman speaks to Thomson and it urges him to turn his back on art and run straight into the arms of commercialism. Thomson struggles with this, after all, as Edward Norton’s Mike Shiner states, ’popularity Is the slutty cousin of prestige.