Kalpit Tandon’s review published on Letterboxd:
"Let's face it, it's not for the sake of art. It's because you want to feel relevant again. Well, there's a whole world out there where people fight to be relevant every day. And you act like it doesn't even exist! Things are happening in a place that you willfully ignore, a place that has already forgotten you. You're the one who doesn't exist. You're doing this because you're scared to death, like the rest of us, that you don't matter. And you know what? You're right. You don't. It's not important. You're not important. Get used to it."
What do you see when you look into a mirror; hollow and cold sacks of self pity or egotistical mighty beasts of glory? A dying leaf or a blossoming tree? A burning nebula or a shooting star? A dissolving planet or an ever expanding galaxy?
Birdman is a faded reflection of us; the mild sparks who are never flamed and are constantly searching for acceptance, redemption, meaning and approval. Alejandro Gonzalez Innaritu has masterfully woven everything into one giant fireball of an asteroid that hurtles towards Earth to shake our foundations from its very core. It pits love against admiration, happiness against fame, death against existence and like a scornful paradox, touches the skies while being extremely grounded in realities. But what does is matter and why should it matter? Who are we in actuality and what does our life weigh? Are we all not mere things? Self absorbed, pretty little fragile things? And well, things are just things, not what is said about them.
Endearingly magnificent, a modern classic and probably one of the heaviest meta movie of this decade, Birdman is profoundly enchanting. Look, the jellyfishes are dying as the birds are flying, can anything ever be more beautiful?
