Birdman

I've seen Birdman today.

I did not just stumble upon it. It was recommended to me.

Some time beginning this year (on January 22nd to be exact) Killing Time posted about it on his blog. I love reading his stuff. I love watching the movies he recommends and I love comparing our notes, even when I'm not writing them down. Usually I see where he's coming from but our views differ dramatically and it seems we appreciate completely different accents of the same content. I do not actually know the guy but I've grown to respect his style and his mind. It is a kooky bag of crazy if there ever was one and I admire it tremendously. We'll return to this.

So, Birdman.

I absolutely loved the movie. Sat smitten in the dark, even when the credits rolled into nothingness and there was only the fan of my computer whirring through the sound of my thoughts. I love how beautiful it is, each scene so saturated and beautifully lit. Motion. Following the characters around. Close-ups. Not so much claustrophobic as much as engaging. Personal.

It actually felt like the inside of my mind.

Yes, the chili pepper Christmas lights. This movie definitely feels like the inside of my mind.

I loved the veneer of the movie, the parallels it extends to real life (which the Killing Time so aptly describes in his review here) but I love its feel of transcending experience, of a shared common woe much much more. Boldly written dialogues of things being said in a transparent way, way we can mostly only dream about in the real life. I love desires boiling over the pots of characters's minds, over and out into the world. I love how the scenes inside the scenes behave in a beautiful and compact way, void of triviality.

One example of this is how all the people around the reacting dyads are just... scenery. Or, in the best case,  props to advance the action. This is also true of real life, that we give our attention to few things in our surroundings, and are mostly completely oblivious to the rest. Usually filmmakers try to create sense of normalcy by giving roles to these props, but this one filmmaker did not go that way.

I love how it is accented that each person lives in his/her own mind even though they live through same life situations (the taxi scene, last anniversary party scene). I love how the difference in their experiences is translated into words subtly but directly ("Two years and he never told me something that beautiful."). I love how they are beautifully surprised with sudden overlaps ("Look at all these roses. And you hate roses" plus "I hate roses.").

Sudden overlaps.

Lately I've been thinking about our idols, my idols. People living or made up whose existence and/or endeavors I hold in high esteem. I've noticed that people often pick for idols someone who in one way or the other has something that they themselves do not have. I, on the other hand, seem to enjoy immensely picking idols that I already share something with; crazy persistence (Tite Kubo, Harrison Wintergreen), fascinating adaptability (empress Teodora from The Female), signs of usable intelligence (Killing Time) to name a few.

My mind is in love with sudden overlaps.

Like the overlap of Birdman's common woe with mine.