Birdman: The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance, was the strangest film I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen strange.
I’m not counting bizarro sci-fi flicks, like Mesa of Lost Women, about a mad scientist who injects spiders with human growth hormone to create a race of beautiful women, or David Croneberg’s Videodrome (David Cronenberg, ’nuff said). Those films are in a strange category all their own.
Birdman falls in line with more mainstream films such as Ed Wood’s Glen or Glenda, Barton Fink, Mulholland Drive, and Donnie Darko. Strange films geared toward a general audience. That’s where Birdman feathers its nest as the strangest of them all.
Whiplash is the most captivating film I’ve seen in a long time.
Sure, it has holes in the plot the size of the ones in the Dead Sea, but the movie is so intense, that a climactic concert scene elicited loud audible gasps from the audience.
Throw in some bodacious acting, bodacious jazz, and the bodacious ability to be parodied, and you’ve got yourself one bodacious hit.
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