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Life or fantasy. Art or entertainment. High-brow or low-brow. Integrity or paychecks. Fame or irrelevance. Real or surreal. As a filmmaker, Alejandro G. Iñárritu has generally tended towards the ambitious, raw, and abstract (Babel, Biutiful) rather than the simple, commercial and categorical. Sometimes he can veer towards pretentiousness, vagueness and meandering messiness, or even showing off, as if reaching for big themes he cannot grasp or execute a way audiences can follow along with the unfolding drama. Thankfully, in Birdman or (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance), his first fully English-language film, Iñárritu’s style matches content better than ever.

Something of a backstage dramedy by way of a character-piece, Birdman’s scene-by-scene, single-shot camera technique takes the audience along for the ride as they watch the egotistic, delusional Thompson struggle to put together a Broadway adaptation of a Raymond Carver short. He hopes its success will help him escape the shadow of his most famous role, the eponymous superhero Birdman, and feel relevant again. Around him swirl a group of similarly flawed characters either helping or hindering his production on both professional and personal levels, such as a pompous actor (Edward Norton) and his drug-addict daughter (Emma Stone). The erratic nature of the wandering camera and frequently high-strung drama, not to mention surreal interludes (let’s assume the voice in Thompson’s head and his telekinesis are imaginary) threaten to overwhelm and put one off, though one could counter-argue that they deliberately contribute to a feeling of experiencing things through the prism of Thompson’s mind. Some might be more bothered by this than others, but Iñárritu’s successful execution keeps everything mostly on track. His other major asset is a uniformly excellent cast, although it will be Keaton who makes the headlines as he reminds us of the extent of his comedic and dramatic range. And yes, the self-reflexive nature of the script, in regard to actors’ fluctuating careers, prompts rumination on the challenges faced by members of today’s entertainment industries as you walk out of the cinema, while your brain tries to readjust to regular filming styles. It may not fully break the fourth wall, but it knows it is there.

Birdman may not offer anything revelatory about meaningful art versus commercial entertainment in today’s world and some may be vexed by Iñárritu’s directorial choices, such as the ambiguous ending. But it serves as a refreshing take on the core themes and messages it tries to grapple with, delivered by a crew with a passion for filmmaking, unafraid of tackling the deep, abstract, complex and unique.