Birdman, or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

“Birdman” is a lot of things—a deconstruction of celebrity culture, a character study of a fallen king, an Arthur Milleresque yarn about how everyone sucks, an art film about the fragility of illusion, an excuse to test how far you can take a filmmaking gimmick—and that it succeeds marvelously at everything it attempts is something of a wonder. A two-hour film that feels half its length, “Birdman” represents the right kind of pop art in that it is a joy to behold even if you’re not willing to engage with its headier concepts. Also: perfect ending, nuff said.

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