(jazz drumming) (jazz drumming) (deep rumbling) MAN (voice-over): How did we end up here? This place is horrible. Smells like balls. We don't belong in this shithole. (computer playing electronic melody) (quietly): Shit. (electronic melody stops) -Hey, Sam. Hi, hon. -Dad, what kind of... Shut up! What kind of flowers did you say you wanted? Alchemillas, or something that smells nice. - You know, something soothing. Listen... - It all smells like fucking kimchi! (sighs) Okay, something that looks nice. You know, anything but roses, okay? I hate this job. (electronic tone) (jazz drumming) (long sigh) (jazz drumming continues) WOMAN (over intercom): Riggan, everyone's set for one-four. They're ready for you. Riggan, they're ready for you. (jazz drumming continues) MAN (over speaker): Paul, just wait for Mr. Thomson. (jazz drumming continues) -Mr. Thomson. RIGGAN: Steve. -It's Daniel. -Okay. -Oh, hey, buddy. -RIGGAN: Hey. -How you doing? -Pretty good. Good. You know, I'd be a lot better if I could get, uh, Ralph to stop, you know, acting. -It's gonna be fine. -Yeah, yeah, yeah. And he was yelling, "I love you, I love you, bitch." What do you do with a love like that? How is th... That is not love, and you know it. Why do you insist on calling it love? - You can say what you want, but I know what it was. - What about you, Nick? Does that sound like love to you? Sorry I'm late. Uh, does that sound like love to me? Look, I'm the wrong person to ask. I only knew... heard the man's name mentioned in passing. I wouldn't know. You'd have to know the particulars. - But I think what you're saying is, love is absolute, right? Yeah. - Yeah. The kind of love I'm talking about is... the kind of love I'm talking about, you don't try and kill people. It was love, Mel. To Eddie, it was. I don't care what anyone says. He was ready to die for it. Ask her what he did after she left him. (sighs) He shot himself in the mouth, but he screwed that up, too. Poor Ed. (laughs): Poor Ed, my ass! The guy was... dangerous! WOMAN: Well, how'd he screw it up if he shot himself in the mouth? - He used to carry this .22. We lived like fugitives then. - Okay, Ralph, Ralph, Ralph. Fugitives are scared, you know? Fugitives are on the run. -Yeah. -So, you know, how many times do we... Can you just give me a little more of that? -You know, fear or something? -Yes, great idea. (panting): We lived like fugitives then. I never knew if he was gonna come out from behind a bush, or-or a car, and just start shooting. (trembling): The man was crazy. He was capable of anything. WOMAN: Christ, what a nightmare. Yeah. He used to call me up at the hospital and say, "Son of a bitch, your days are numbered!" (panting): That's too much? It's a little bit too much, I can tell, because... I just want to give you a range. WOMAN: Holy shit! -Someone call 911! -Oh, my God, is he breathing? -Yeah. -Is that blood coming out of his ear? -It's okay. He's still breathing. -Where are you going? -Well, did someone call for help? -Do not move him! -Wait for an ambulance! -Did someone call for help? Well, that's gonna be a fucking lawsuit! Okay, where are you going? The understudy will be ready in less than five minutes. Forget the understudy. We're gonna have to cancel the first preview. But it's a full house! We would have to refund the entire... -Just do it. Just do it. -What happened? How's Ralph? -He'll be fine. -Wait, wait, wait. Will you fucking wait? Listen to me, Jake, it was gonna be a disaster. That guy's the worst actor I've ever seen in my life. The blood coming out of his ear was the most honest thing he's done so far. He's not that bad. (whispers): Okay, he's fucking terrible, but... Listen, you have the press in your dressing room in a few hours... I'll make something up. I don't know, I'll think of something, I'll riff. Listen, hold on. That wasn't an accident. What... Hey. What do you mean? I made it happen. Oh, okay. Are you drunk? Just find me an actor, a good actor. Give me, uh... Woody Harrelson. He's doing the next Hunger Games. Um, uh, Michael Fassbender. He's doing the prequel to the X-Men prequel. How about, uh, uh, Jeremy Renner? -Who? -Jeremy Renner! He was nominated. -Oh, okay. -Uh, he was the Hurt Locker guy. He's an Avenger. Fuck! They put him in a cape, too? God, I can't believe this. I don't care-- just find me someone. (whispers): Ralph will sue us. He'll sue us, and he has a case. Just make it go away. Look, you're my attorney. You're my producer. You're my best friend. Right? Now, go out there and do what you were born to do. I don't care how you do it, just go. -Just make it go away. -How do you suppose I do... how... WOMAN (on TV): ...all the fastest fights and splits. And when we come back, an exclusive interview with Robert Downey Jr., who's busy following up his billion-dollar Iron Man franchise with the equally successful Avenger series. He will take us behind the scenes... (heavy sigh) (voice-over): That clown doesn't have half your talent, and he's making a fortune in that Tin Man getup. (sighs) We were the real thing, Riggan. (mumbles) Okay. -(voice-over): We had it all. -(deep breath) We gave it away. Breathing in. We handed these poseurs the keys to the kingdom. Breathing out. -You listening to me? -I smile to it. - Breathing in, I embrace my anger. - (chuckles) Yeah. Embrace it. But I'm not going away. -You know I'm right. -(exhales) (exhales) (quietly): Fuck. (voice-over): Look at that. These people don't know what you're capable of. MAN: Why would somebody go from playing the lead in a comic book franchise to adapting Raymond Carver for the stage? I... You know, as you're probably aware, Barthes said, "The cultural work done in the past "by gods and epic sagas is now being done by laundry detergent commercials and comic strip characters." This is a big leap you've taken. Yeah, it is. Absolutely. Absolutely. And... (clears throat) you know... like you said, that, uh, uh, Barthes said, uh... See, Birdman, like Icarus... Okay, wait-wait. Hang on. Who is this Barthes guy? -Which Birdman was he in? -Uh, Roland Barthes was a French philosopher, and if you knew anything about the history... -Sure. Now, is it true you've been injecting yourself with semen from baby pigs? -I-I'm sorry. What? -As a method of facial rejuvenation? - Wh-Where did you read that? - It was tweeted by... @ProstateWhispers. - (laughs): No, that's not true. - I know, but did you do it? - No, I didn't do it. Okay, I'll just write you're denying it. No, don't write anything. Why would you write anything? I didn't... I didn't do... Don't write what she said. I didn't do it. I didn't put any baby pig's sem... MAN: Just, if you will, are you at all afraid that people will say you're doing this play to battle the impression that you're a washed-up superhero? No, absolutely not, absolutely not. That's why 20 years ago, I said no to Birdman 4. Oh...! Birdman 4?! -JAKE: Thank you, everybody. -You do Birdman 4? Thanks for coming out. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We're expecting some great pieces. (sighs) Guys in publicity... now want a Times feature, which is the worst idea right now. (deep breath) What are you doing? I don't want to look at this anymore. That-that was a present from the crew. D-Don't fuck with those guys; they're union. I don't care. How'd it go? Good. They talk about Ralph at all? He did it, you know. The motherfucker did it. Threatened to sue us. Didn't even wait to get out of the hospital. -What'd you say? -What did I say? -Shit. Goddamn it. -I said, "You motherfucker, -"are you threatening me? -Where am I gonna put this? "I swear to God, I so much as get a letter from a lawyer, then the press is gonna get the pictures off your computer." -That's what I said. -What pictures? He has a thing for nuns in diapers. Why do you care? You shouldn't have any knowledge of that, anyway. The point is, is I made it go away. That's right. That's great. Yeah, it is fantastic, except one thing. -What? -We don't have an actor. -Uh-huh. -And if we cancel the first preview, the press is gonna smell blood, and we can't afford to lose any more money at all. Okay, what do you think I should do? Well, we hired an understudy; let's use the understudy. -No. -Riggan, listen to me. Please, for the love of God, listen. Our perfect dream actor is not gonna knock on that door and go, "Hey, fellas, when do I start?" You know? (knocking) - Can I talk to you for a second? - Yeah, what's up? -Did you find another actor? -No. -Okay, well, Mike's available. -He is? -Mm-hmm. -Mike who? I thought he was doing the thing... ` He was. He quit. Or got fired. -Mike who? -Which is it, quit or fired? Well, with Mike, it's usually both. -Mike fucking who? -Shiner. Yes! -Jake. -Oh, my gosh. How do you know Mike Shiner? -We share a vagina. -You think he'd want to do it? -Mm-hmm. -How do you know? 'Cause he told me he'd want to do it. -Yes! Yes. -Jake, Jake. Ask me if he sells tickets. - Fine, does he sell tickets? - He sells a shitload of tickets. - Okay. Now ask me if the theatre critics love him. - Do theatre critics love him? - They want to spooge on him. -Hey. -Lesley? - Right on his face. - Everything for a reason, right? You think he'd come in this evening? ` I'll call him and find out. I'll call his agent. (whispering): Oh, baby. Amazing, amazing. (jazz drumming) Annie? Clear the theatre, send everyone to dinner and give me some lights. We got a put-in tonight. Who is it? You'll find out. It's intimidating, isn't it? You have any idea the people who have walked on these boards before you? Geraldine Page, Helen Hayes, Jason Robards, Marlon Brando and now... -Riggan Thomson. -(chuckling): Yeah. Hey, thanks for coming in on such short notice, Mike. I really appreciate it. Nah, this is what I do. You-you-you wrote this adaptation? I did, yeah. Ah, and you're directing and starring in your adaptation? -I am, yeah. -That's ambitious. Well, thanks. Well, it's a good theatre. I can't speak for your play, but let's, uh, let's do a little bit of it, yeah? Oh, I didn't expect you to come in and, you know, just jump right in. It's first preview tomorrow night, man. -Let's-let's get to work. -Okay. Well, you know, look, you know, feel free to take the script up until you feel comfortable. No, no, no, no, let's just... let's just do-do some of it. All right. Okay, uh, hey, take a look at page 20. I-I'm good; I don't need that. -What? -I don't need the script. -Just give me a cue. -What are you talking about? -Feed me a line. -Well, how-how... -how are you gonna... -Feed me a line. Okay, all right. Okay, uh, let me think. Uh... Yeah, uh... Hey, I'm the wrong person to ask, okay? I didn't actually know the man. I only heard his name mentioned in passing. -Mm-hmm. -I don't know. You'd have to know the particulars, but I think what you're saying is love is absolute. Is that what I'm saying? Am I saying love is absolute? Yes. Okay, yeah. The kind of love that I'm talking about is absolute. The kind of love that I'm talking about... You don't try to kill people. How do you know the lines? It's a thing I have. I don't know, it's a gift. - Wow, okay, well, that's... - (chuckles) Oh, come on, man. I've been... I've been helping Lesley get off book for like a month. -Oh, right, right. -These lines are... - That makes sense. - Right, right, right. - That's good. -Okay, okay. -Give me my cue again. Hey, I'm the wrong person to ask. I didn't actually know the man. I've heard his name mentioned in passing, but, you know, I didn't know. You never know the particulars. I think what you're saying, though, is that... - C-Can I make a suggestion? - Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. - I mean, do you mind? -No, no, no, not at all. Not at all. -Oh, okay. -Take a look. Okay. -No, no, for-forget that. -Just-just... Stay with me. -Yeah. - "I'm the wrong person to ask," he says, - Right. - but what is that? What's the intention in that? - I think... Is he fed up with the subject, so he's changing it? Is he deflecting guilt over the marriage? And here's the thing, you've got four lines after that that all say the same thing. "I didn't even know the man." "I-I only heard his name mentioned in passing." "I wouldn't know." "You'd have to know the particulars." And the particulars, I mean, it sounds like my grandmother, but-but-but the point is, -you don't know the guy. -Right. -We fucking get it. -Yeah. Make it work with one line. "I didn't even know the man." -Right? -Yeah, right. -(clicks tongue) -Wait, how-how do... You know my lines, too, huh? C-Can we not get hung up on knowing lines? -Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. -Can we just work on this, -Yeah, yeah, right, right. -tear it apart, whatever? So-so-so why don't you just give me that same thing again, but cut it down. - Try it. Just try it. - Okay. - Uh... Hey, I'm the - wrong person to ask. Oh! No! But that's the thing, see? "I'm the wrong person to ask." What is it? I think it's "fuck you." Fuck you. Don't-don't put me on the spot, man. -I... -Don't-don't make me feel self-conscious about my marriage while my l... my wife is sitting... - Right there. - ...right there. -Yeah. -Can I sit down for this? -Yeah, sit, sit. Good idea. -Okay. Thanks. -Yeah. -So-so just-just give it to me as a "fuck you." - Right. - Try it, lay it on me. - Yeah. - Let's just do it. Come on. - Give it to me. Fuck me hard. - Well, I'm thinking. Okay. - Just-just give it... - Yeah, right. - Come on! Don't talk about it! - Hey, I'm the wrong person to ask! All right? I don't even know the guy, okay? -What's your point? -What's my point? Yeah, what's your point? What are you saying? Spit it out. -Oh! Oh! -You're saying what? What are you saying? You're saying love is absolute. Yes! Yes! The kind of love that I'm talking about, it is absolute! The kind of love that I'm talking about, you don't... (crying) You don't try to kill people. - Yeah. Good. - I don't know, what do you think, boss? -Wow. Okay. -You want to do this with me? What do you think? Everybody's back. Larry needs to see him for a fitting. I'll take that as a yes. So who are you? That's Sam, my daughter. Oh, your daughter? Wow, that's amazing. You don't look anything like each other. What do you do? -Um, I'm his... -She's my assistant. -Works for me. -Mm-hmm. And does she talk, uh, and speak? -She does, yeah. -Mmm. She can even sit or stay or roll over if you have any treats. - Hey, welcome aboard, Mike! - Thank you, Captain. - (softly): Yeah. Um, I'm Mike Shiner, by the way. Oh, I know who you are. I, uh, I saw you in Hothouse at the Geffen. - You were great. - Oh, thank you. Your ass is great. Dude, seriously? -See, you see, that was just me... -Larry? Larry? This is the theatre, sweetheart. Don't be so self-conscious. He's here. Okay, thank the Lord and pass the biscuits. I finally have an actor to dress. -How have you been, Larry? -Better now that you're here. Take off your clothes. See how we do. Okay. You just gonna stand there? This is the theatre, honey. Don't be so self-conscious. We'll have to start from scratch with less than 24 hours. Here, try these. Holy shi... What's happening? Where are you underpants? Under the bed at home, I think. Okay, uh, n-no. O-O-Okay, okay. Everything's too small. -You're not kidding. -Oh. Oh, that's nice. Forgive him, Larry. Mike's like my five-year-old son. Neither of them has clean underwear. Or pubic hair, I imagine. Okay, I can alter the suit, but we're gonna have to make new trousers and shirts. And underwear. What are you doing? -Waiting on Larry. -LARRY: I'm finished! Then I'm just standing with my cock out. Well, get dressed. Riggan's daughter is hanging around, - and I don't need her to walk in here. - Lesley. No, Mike, you haven't seen her. She's always hanging around, watching everyone. -Like Little Miss Creepy. -Mm-hmm. -Les? -I don't know if it's the drugs that fried her brain or what, but I just don't want her running to her father saying you showed her your junk. Then we should ask her to leave. Oh, God, really? Mm-hmm. Sammy? SAM: It's Sam. -Fuck. -Sam. Lesley. - Oh, listen, um, when I said that, I didn't... - Don't worry about it. He's a handful, huh? How is it that you always manage to find a new way to humiliate me? Oh, to be fair, you make it really easy. What the hell was she doing here? -She brought me down. -And stayed? -Well, she is a little... something. -Listen, Mike, this is Broadway, and I'm here, finally. Now, please, just do me a favour, I'm begging you, don't fuck it up! Lesley. Come here. Come here. (Lesley exhales) (whispers): Play with my balls. (grunting): Don't do it! -RIGGAN: I don't care, just sign it. -JAKE: Listen to me. -No, you listen to me. -I can't afford to listen to you. LARRY: I'm gonna have to go shopping again! - Just sew something, you old fuck. - Just get him whatever he wants! His agent's asking for four times what we were paying what's-his-name. Well, just go into the reserve, Jake. The reserve is gone-- we spent it on fog -and those fake trees and the... -It's a dream sequence, Jake. -dancing midgets. -I've gotta... Don't say... - You're not allowed to say midgets anymore. - The reserve is gone! You didn't see what I just saw. I'm telling you, this guy's the real deal. I could feel it in my bones-- he's the actor we've been waiting for. Come on, just get the contract done. Please, Jake. I'll get the money. Okay, I'll do it. Okay. Get that smile off your face. -You're freaking me out. -Okay. Sorry. You're right. (whispers): Hey! Is it true? -Yeah. Yeah, he said yes. -Shiner? Holy shit. -When can I meet him? -He's in a fitting with Larry right now. LESLEY: Hey, guys. I'm going to Starbucks. -You want anything? -I'm good, I'm good. She has a great ass. -Yeah, she does. -Hey, I have some news for you, too. - Is it good or is it bad? 'Cause right now I really... - I missed my last two periods. I think it's really happening. -(exhales) -Well... Is that good or bad? -Riggan! -It's good. It's good. It's great. -Well, say something else. -Uh, uh... okay... Uh, are you sure it's mine? -(soft chuckle) -Well, you know, -there's you, there's Jake. -I'm joking. You know, that masseur wore a condom-- yeah, I'm pretty sure it's yours, yeah. (chuckles): Idiot. -(Riggan panting) -Are you excited? -Yeah. Yeah. -Me, too. Oh. What?! You're not funny! I... (whispers): What? -Hey. -What? Mmm... (exhales) LESLEY (in distance): I'm telling you, he did love me. First preview tomorrow. Here we go. MIKE (in distance): In front of us, in the room! I mean, I... I... I rode with him in the ambulance -to the hospital. -(Family Guy playing on TV) LESLEY: I will never get that image out of my head. Right before he did it, those eyes, they were so... sad and-and lonely. LAURA: Did you have to treat him? MIKE: No, I didn't have to, but I did... -ANNIE: Music... out. -(dialogue continues) Cue 34, 35, ready. MIKE: He was in terrible shape. His head had swelled up. It was twice the size of a normal head. - He's good, huh? - He's incredible. - Yeah. -I think he's drinking real gin. -What? MIKE: Ask-ask Nick. I-I want you to ask Nick -if he thinks that that's love. -LESLEY: Oh, honey, -can't we just go... -He'll agree with me. (Mike, Laura and Lesley all talking at once) LAURA: You don't know how he's been lately. He's been depressed; I've been worried about him. You've been what? Let me tell you... let me tell you guys something about real love. Then I'll tell you something. We all should be ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about -when we talk about love. -Oh, for God's sake. - Are you getting drunk, Nick? - I don't have to be drunk to say what I think. Nobody's drunk-- we're just having a few drinks. -RIGGAN: Exactly. -Well, you've had more than a few. What are you, counting? Hey, leave her alone. If you're not drunk, -don't talk like you're drunk. -Shut up! Do me a favour, for once in your life, honest to God, shut up for a minute. (light audience laughter) Anyway... like I was saying, you want to know about real love, there's this old couple... had a car wreck out on the interstate. Some drunk kid... plows his old man's pickup... right into their camper. By the time I got down to the hospital, this kid, fucking teenager, was dead. So we took the old couple up to the O.R., and we worked like hell on them through most of the night. By the time... we were done with them, we just, you know, wrapped them... in their full body casts. The husband, the old man... was depressed... for the longest time. Even after I said to him, "Look, your wife's gonna pull through," he was still depressed. (sighs) So... I went up to the mouth hole and I asked him. (chuckles softly) And he told me it was because he couldn't... see her... through the eye holes. Couldn't see his wife. -Can you imagine? -MIKE: What? I'm telling you... this guy's heart was breaking -because... -(Mike groans) he couldn't turn his goddamn head... and just look at his goddamn wife. MIKE: Shit. (exhales) I mean, it was killing this guy. - I-I am so tired of this. Is this water? - It was killing the guy. Did you replace my gin with water, man? -No. No. -RIGGAN: Mike, come on. -LESLEY: Oh! -"Come on," what? -Come on, you're drunk. I'm drunk? Yes, I'm drunk. I'm supposed to be drunk. Why aren't you drunk? -This is Carver! He left a piece -Shit, Mike... of his liver on the table every time he wrote a fucking page. If I need to be drinking gin, who the fuck are you -to touch my gin, man? -Don't fucking do this now. Listen, you fucked with the period, you fucked with the plot so you could have the best lines. -You leave me the fucking tools that I need! -Shut the fuck up. -(booing) -Oh, come on, people, don't be so pathetic. Stop looking at the world through your cell phone screen! -(jeering) -Have a real experience! Does anybody give a shit about truth other than me? -Come on. Come on. - I mean, the set is fake. - Come on, Mike. - The bananas are fake. -There's fucking nothing in this milk carton. -Shut up. -(jeering continues) -Your performance is fake. The only thing that is real on this stage... -RIGGAN: Shut up. -...is this chicken. So I'm gonna work with the chicken. -(Lesley gasps) -(audience laughter) -MIKE: That was interesting. -Bring the curtain down. -Hey, that's good bird, man. -Curtain, curtain, curtain! -(audience jeering, whistling) -Get him out of here. How do you want me to do that? (Family Guy playing on TV) -JAKE: Hey. Hey, wait. -I want him gone. - No. What? We cannot do that. - Of course we can do that! -It's our show! -Listen to me, please. No, you listen to me. Listen to me. Get him the fuck out of my play. -I'm not gonna stand up there... -It was a preview! Nobody gives a shit about a preview! Nothing matters until that old bat from The New York Times is sitting in that audience opening night. No. We're getting rid of him. I don't give a shit. -I'm not gonna stand out there... -Just shut up! Shut up and listen to me for once! As soon as we announced he was taking over, the advance doubled, and that took less than a day. We can't afford to lose a preview, we can't afford to lose any more money, and we can't afford to lose Mike. (panting): This has been about... this is about being... respected and validated, remember? That's what you told me! That's how you got me into this shit! You're the director. Get him under control, okay? (panting) Fuck. This isn't the '90s anymore. Your zipper's down. (quietly): Fuck! (zips pants) Hey. You were really good, cabron. (growls) Hey! Out in front of the theatre in ten minutes! Don't overthink it. (knobs squeak) (faucet running) WOMAN: What the hell was going on up there? I didn't know you were here tonight. That guy's an asshole, huh? Yeah, what are you... what are you doing here? Sam and I are gonna grab a bite after she's finished. No, no, I mean here. Now. Well... I know how much this means to you. Oh. Thanks. I appreciate that. So what's happening? -With the play? You saw what's happening. -No, no. You and Sam. Oh. It's... you know, it's great. It's the same. Do you talk to her? Yeah. We talk. I... You know, it's just been so crazy around here, you know? - You understand where her head is at these days. - Yeah. Of course. You know, she's trying to stay away from everything and everyone that got her into rehab in the first place, -so, you know. -Yeah, yeah. I know. I really do. I get it. I get it. But, you know, that's all she's had, -so she's confused. -Yeah. I get it. Look, I know you're caught up in all this stuff, - but you just have to... - "Stuff"? - Uh, uh... you know what I mean. (sighs) Riggan, you don't have to be a great father right now. Y-You just have to be one. Oh, sorry. How's that going? I'd rather not talk about that. You drinking? Yeah, I'm having a beer. Okay. So... what's going on with you? -Me? Oh. -Yeah. (chuckles): Nothing. Everything's the same, I guess. I'm going back to teaching. Oh, yeah? Hey, uh... I'm thinking of refinancing the Malibu house. What? I'm sorry? -I'm thinking of refinancing... -No. I heard you. I just need a second. That's gonna be Sam's house. Why would you... For this play? (exhales) I need the money. Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds? What do you want me to say? My health lasted longer than the money-- go figure that out. What's going on? Riggan, look at me. (quiet grunt) I got a chance to do something right. I got to take it. I got to. You know, it's funny, I was sitting here waiting for you, and all of a sudden I couldn't remember why we broke up. Hey, you know, the last time I flew here from L.A.... George Clooney was sitting, like, two seats in... in front of me with a nice pair of cuff links and that... fucking chin. (exhales) We ended up flying through this really... really horrible storm. I mean, the plane was, like, rattling, shaking, and, uh... (clears throat) all the people on board are... crying. I mean, crying. Praying, right? I just sat there. They're crying; I sit there. And I'm thinking: Oh, boy, the next morning when Sam looks at the paper, it's gonna be Clooney's face on the front page, not mine. (wry chuckle) You know? Boom. (snorts) How do you... (soft laugh) Did you know Farrah Fawcett died the exact same day as Michael Jackson? Is that crazy? (kiss) Why did we break up? Because you threw a kitchen knife at me, and an hour later you were telling me how much you loved me. You know, just because I didn't like that ridiculous comedy you did with Goldie Hawn did not mean that I did not love you. That's what you always do-- you confuse love for admiration. It's your house-- you do what you want with it. You just make sure you're there for our daughter. (quietly): I will. You're not Farrah Fawcett, Riggan. (voice-over): We should have done that reality show they offered us-- The Thomsons. -Shut up. -That would've been good. -Shut up. -Crazy, druggy, wise-ass daughter, MILF-y wife with the perky tits. People would have wanted to see that. -Shut up. -More than I can say for this piece of shit. Shut up. The sun bed is here. What does that mean? It means there is a sun bed out there being delivered to in here. Well, who ordered a sun bed? Mike. He said it's for his character. -Part of his process and that shit. -Fuck. He said he has to be a redneck. RIGGAN (whispers): Son of a bitch. -RIGGAN: Let's go. Walk. -Where are we going? To get you some coffee. Did I do something to disrespect you? -Not yet. -Look, I have a lot riding on this fucking play. -Oh, is that right? Oh. -Yeah. People know who I am, -Fucking bullshit. -and it... -Mike... -Bullshit. They-they don't know you, your work, man-- they know the guy from the bird suit who goes and tells coy, slightly vomitous stories on Letterman. Well, I'm sorry if I'm popular, Mike. Popular? I don't give a shit. Popular?! Popularity is the slutty little cousin of prestige, my friend. Okay, I don't even know what the fuck that means, so... -Here. -Mmm, it-it means... it means my reputation is riding on this, and that's worth a... a... -Lot. -A lot. Exactly. -Right. Right. -Fuck you! Yes! If this doesn't work out for you, -you fuck off back to your studio pals -Right. and dive back into that cultural genocide you guys are perpetrating. You know, a douche bag's born every minute. That was P.T. Barnum's premise when he invented the circus, and nothing much has changed, and you guys know that if you crank out any toxic piece of crap, people will line up and pay to see it. But long after you're gone, I'm gonna be on that stage, earning my living, baring my soul, wrestling with complex human emotions, -'cause that's what we do. -Right. Oh, so that... is that what tonight was about-- you wrestling -with complex emotions? -No. Tonight was just about seeing if it's even alive, seeing if it can bleed. No, this isn't a back lot, Riggan. This is New York City. This is how we do things. Where you going? They have coffee here. (sighs): Thanks, Tommy. They were laughing in our fucking faces. MIKE: Tonight they were laughing; tomorrow they'll be tweeting. Fuck 'em. Who cares? These are the people who pay half price to watch us rehearse. -Stop fucking caring. -This play is a drama. We're doing Raymond Carver. This play's about... - You don't know what play's about. - I do know what this play's about. - No, you don't. -Oh, man. -That's what previews are for. That's why they call them previews. That's where you figure out what the play is. I mean... Okay, look, look. Listen to me. Do you see the woman at the far end of the bar? The one who looks like she licked a homeless man's ass? Yeah. The only thing that matters is what she writes about us -in 500 words in the Times. -That's, uh... -Tabitha Dickinson, yes. -Yeah. Well, believe it or not, the only opinion that matters in your theatre is hers. If she likes us, we run; if she doesn't, we're fucked. (quietly): She does look like she licked a homeless guy's ass. -Do me a favour. Don't get your panties in a twist over a fucking preview like some rookie, and don't tell me how to do my job. This is my town, and, to be honest, most people don't give a shit about you here. -You're Riggan Thomson, right? -MAN: Sorry to interrupt you. Would you mind having a picture with us here? - RIGGAN: No, no, no, no. - Just... Oh, thank you. - Would you mind? -What? -The button's on the bottom. (whispers): Okay. Get in there. -BOY: Who is this guy? -He used to be Birdman. -(click) -MIKE: Okay. WOMAN: Ah, great. Oh, you're such a doll. -Okay. -Thank you. You're so sweet. -Thanks. -Handsome. Thanks. Thanks for... Oh. MAN: O-Okay, sweetheart, come on. Are we good here? I'm gonna go home. All right. See you tomorrow. Oh, wait. I-I want to know something. Why Raymond Carver? I was a kid... in, uh, high school doing a play in Syracuse, and he was in the audience. And he, uh... (clears throat) sent this back... afterwards. Little note. "Thank you for an honest performance. -Ray Carver." -Yeah. -Yeah? -That's when I knew... I was gonna be an actor. Right there. (snickering) Oh... What's so funny? Nothing. It's just, it's on a cocktail napkin. Yeah, so? He was fucking drunk, man. (pats arm) -WOMAN: You headed to Hollywood, Mike? -No. No. Hollywood's heading here, Tabby. Good luck with that. "A man becomes a critic when he cannot be an artist, "the same way that a man becomes an informer when he cannot be a soldier." That's Flaubert, right? He's a Hollywood clown in a Lycra bird suit. Yes, he is. But tomorrow night at 8:00, he's going out on that stage and risking everything. What'll you be doing? Don't you ever worry that I'll give you a bad review? I'm sure you will, if I ever give you a bad performance. Miss Dickinson. Mr. Shiner. (jazz drumming) -Anything else? -Uh, one house red and... a Chardonnay. (indistinct chatter) (jazz drumming) (man speaking Spanish) (pants) -Hey. -Hey. What are you still doing here? Nothing. Nothing. Um... your costumes are hanging in your dressing room. -(sniffs) -Oh, great, great. Oh, I got that coconut water that you wanted. - Um, if you want the fake stuff, - Hey. - it's not open till tomorrow. What? Uh... I'm not sure that I said thank you. -For what? -For everything. I mean, you've been doing a really good job, -and, you know, honestly. -Yeah. -I've been so preoccupied with all... -Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, well, I... -just wanted to say that, and... -(Sam clears throat) (panting quietly) -(Sam sniffs) -What is that? -What? -That smell. -What is it? Look at me. -(mumbles): I don't know. -Look at me! -What? What? Goddamn, you got to be shitting me. -Dad... -Where is it? Can we not do this, please? Dad? Where is it? I can't believe this. (Sam groans quietly) Wha... What is this? Chunky peanut butter. -This. This. What is that? -Ah. That's pot. -Relax. -"Relax." You can't do this to me! -To you? -Oh, shut up! You know what I'm talking about. Uh, yeah, you're talking about you! -What else is new? -No, don't do the thing... The thing where I make it about me? Look, I'm trying to do something that's important. - This is not important! - It's important to me! Okay? Maybe not to you or your cynical friends whose only ambition is to go viral! But to me, this is... my God, this is my career! This is my chance to finally do some work -that actually means something! -That means something to who? You had a career, Dad, before the third comic book movie. Before people started to forget who was inside that bird costume! You are doing a play based on a book that was written 60 years ago for a thousand rich old white people whose only real concern is gonna be where they go to have their cake and coffee when it's over! Nobody gives a shit but you! And... let's face it, Dad, you are not doing this for the sake of art. You are doing this because you want to feel relevant again. Well, guess what, there is an entire world out there where people fight to be relevant every single day, and you act like it doesn't exist. Things are happening in a place that you ignore, a place that, by the way, has already forgotten about you! I mean, who the fuck are you?! You hate bloggers, you mock Twitter. You don't even have a Facebook page! 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, okay? You're not important-- get used to it! Dad... (Sam sighs) (lighter clicks) (exhales heavily) (gasps) LAURA: In the days before Nick's depression started to eat away at him, he never knew I was pregnant, and I never intended on telling him. I guess we make choices in life, and we choose to live with them. Or not. I didn't want that baby. Not because I didn't love Nick, and not because I didn't love the idea of it, but just because I wasn't ready to love myself. There's a distance to it all now. A wistful distance underscored by a gentle breeze -Actors in position. -and the sound of the birds -Music out. -laughing at the whimsy of it all. -We have Laura onstage. -Lesley? -Roll it. -Roll it, go, go. -What? -I think I'm hard. No, you're not. It's just that sometimes you don't consider other people's feelings, that's all. No, no, no, I'm getting hard. -Feel that. -(squeals) What? -Come on. -You got to be kidding me. Let's really do it; let's really fuck. No, are you crazy? -No, it'll be incredible. -Stop it! -It'll be so real, trust me, trust me. -Cut it out, Mike. -Trust me, trust me. -Get off! I'm serious, Mike. Don't call me Mike; call me Mel, Mel. -Get off! -Okay, just let me... -(pounding) -Terri! Terri! -Mike! -Don't stop. - No, Lesley, don't stop. Kiss me. - No! - Come on, kiss me, kiss me. - Terri, I know you're in there! - Get off me! Get off! -Damn, Terri! -(groaning) -Ed? -Why? - What are you doing here? - I just need you to tell me why. Take it easy, all right, take it easy. I know this is hard. -(audience laughing) -Shut up! Shut... ` Shut up! Okay, just don't do anything stupid. -I know... -Hey! Eddie, please! What's the matter with me? Why do I always end up having to beg people to love me? Eddie, please, give me the gun. Look at me. I was drowning. I'm just not capable of lo... You-you deserve to be loved, Eddie. You do. I just wanted to be what you wanted. Now I spend every fucking minute praying to be somebody else, somebody I'm not. Anybody. Okay, j-j-just put the gun down, Ed. She just doesn't love you anymore. -(thunder rumbling) -You don't, do you? No. And you never will? (softly): I'm sorry. (sighs) I don't exist. I'm not even here. None of this even matters. I don't exist. I don't exist. -Ed? -No. -I don't even exist. -Ed! Eddie, Eddie! -No, Eddie, no! -No, no, don't do that! -(gunshot) - (audience gasping) - (thunder rumbling) (applause) LESLEY (sniffles): You're such an asshole! MIKE: An a... Are you kidding me? That's the best I've seen you onstage ever. Why would you do that? Why would you do that? It's like my head's a jar of Bolognese. - You're such an asshole! - Give me the blood rig. - I'll fix it. - They're fucking in a motel, having sex with each other. - You've got to be shitting me. You-you can't get it up in six months, and now you want to fuck me in front of 800 strangers?! Look, I need it to feel real, okay? I-I need that intensity. You've known that -about me from the beginning. -Oh, fuck you! Oh. Look, I... I was in the moment. I thought that you were, too. -I'm sorry. -(applause) I told you to stop, you fucking animal. -(applause continues) -You were brilliant. -Brilliant. -What is wrong with you? (audience shouting, cheering) (chuckles) I want your shit out of the apartment. Wait, what? Hey, no, no, no, wait. Okay, look, look, look, look, look, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. -Can we just... Look, can we... -No, we can't, Mike! You know, maybe up here you're Mr. Truth, but in the real world where it counts, you're a fucking fraud! How's that feel for truth, you dick? -Oh, sorry. -What's going on? -He's such an asshole. -What'd he do now? Oh, nothing, he just tried to fuck me in front of an entire audience! Oh, my God. -Right? -That's kind of hot. (sniffles, sobs) (grunts) Why don't I have any self-respect?! Oh, you're an actress, honey. I'm pathetic. Look at me. (sniffling) You know, I... I've always dreamed of being a Broadway actress since I was a little kid, and now I'm here, and I... I'm not a Broadway actress. I'm still just a little kid. And I keep waiting for someone to tell me I've made it. Hey. You made it. I did? Sadly, it was with Mike Shiner in a fake motel bed in front of, like, 800 people, but... (laughs) Oh, shut up! - (sobbing continues) - (knocking) Oh, God. - RIGGAN: Hey, is she okay? - Yeah, she's gonna be fine. (sighs, sniffles) Look, none of this is your fault, okay? Okay, look, you're beautiful, and you're talented, and I'm lucky I have you. -Okay? -Okay. Okay. -Okay. -Okay. (sighs) That was kind of sweet. Yeah. What's wrong? Nothing. Two years, and he's never said anything like that to me. Hey. You're beautiful, and you're talented, and I'm lucky to have you. Okay? We're gross. (laughing): We are. (sighs) What are you doing? Nothing. Do it again. MIKE: Can we talk about this like two mature artists? I mean, what really is the big deal about... Fuck you! You're not ready yet. That's fine. Hmm. Fuck. Actresses. They drive me fucking crazy. Riggan? Riggan. Your gun is ridiculous. I can see the red plug in the barrel, so you look like a kid with a plastic toy when you point it at me. I don't feel threatened at all. Get a better one. Have some self-respect, please. Hey, apart from that, I mean, uh... I thought that was a pretty fun crowd, huh? Yeah, I... (pedestrians shouting indistinctly) I don't think it's high enough. Me, neither. What are you doing up here? Uh, adrenaline. I just got out of rehab. It's the closest thing I get to a drug. You went to rehab? Yeah. Cool. Yeah, it wasn't all Dr. Drew or anything, but that dude from American Pie was there. -Yeah? -MAN: Jump! Eat me! Okay, then jump on my face! (chuckles) I love this city. Yeah? Why do you act like a dick all the time? Do you just do it to antagonize people? Maybe. You really don't give a shit if people like you or not? Not really. That's cool. Is it? I, uh... I don't know. Hey. Hey! What? Let's play a game. -A game? -Mm-hmm. What are you, eight? What are you, 78? Truth or dare. Oh, come on, let's-let's... -Truth or dare. -Oh. Truth. When we first met, you made a comment about my ass. Why'd you do that? You have a terrific ass, and I noticed that. And then I just commented on it. Truth or dare? Dare. -Really? -Yeah. Okay. Okay, there's a bald guy, he's gonna walk right under you. I want you to spit on his head. -No. -You said dare. Truth. No, it's too late, and... (scoffs) (hocking) -You happy? -Yeah. -MAN: Ew! -(chuckles) (laughs) Truth or dare? Truth. - You're boring. - Mmm, truth is always interesting. Uh... do you want to fool around with me? No. Really? Why not? That's a second question. It's a second part. I'd be afraid I couldn't get it up. That didn't seem to be a problem for you onstage. Well, that's because nothing is a problem for me onstage. I want to ask another question. You already asked another question. -One more. -Go ahead. If you weren't afraid, what would you want to do to me? (sighs) I'd pull your eyes out of your head. That's sweet. I'd put them in my own skull, and I'd look around so I could see this street the way I used to when I was your age. Good night. (door opens and closes) LAURA: Don't kill the messenger. He's an asshole. (voice-over): I told you. RIGGAN: You fucking prick. (voice-over): He's playing you, Riggan. This is it? - Page 12. - This can't be it. - Page 12. "Riggan Thomson, better known as the face of the Birdman films, tries not to lay an egg on Broadway." Yeah, where's the rest of it? There is no rest of it. -(muttering) -Don't worry. Somebody will be using that to scoop up dog shit tomorrow. - How can you be so calm about this? - What are my other choices? Aren't you scared at all, Laura? -About what? -About being humiliated out there. (chuckles) Wouldn't be the first time I've been humiliated. Shit, well, of course it won't. You're an asshole. (door opens) And by the way, I'm not pregnant, so there's one thing you don't have to worry about. (door slams) (voice-over): Forget about her. He stole your front page. He's stealing your show. He thinks you're a joke. Now two million people agree with him. Maybe you are, Riggan. Maybe that's what you are. A joke. Whoa, what the hell is going on? -(grunts) -Hey! Ow, that hurt! -Get up! -Back away! So, Carver's the reason you became an actor, huh? -What? -Listen to me. This is my fucking show. I did the work, I raised the money, I arrange the fucking press. Oh, Jesus. They called me for an interview. I told them the first thing that came into my head. -Really? Really? -We got the cover of the Arts section, for Christ's sakes! Fuck the Arts section! You told them the first thing that came to your head? Right, because that's you, Mike, right? You're Mr. Natural, Mr. "Fuck the scene, just stare at my massive hard-on," right? That's the truth of the moment. Did you think it looked massive? Shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up! You don't get hard on my stage unless I tell you to. -Your stage? -Yeah. Oh, let me tell you something. This stage has belonged to a lot of great actors. -Really? Really? -But you are not one of them, pal. So you wrote your own lines, huh? Yeah. Ow! I did, actually. Yeah, you wrote a few changes and you mumbled a little bit, you self-absorbed prick! Hey! I'm self-absorbed? Look at you. Yeah, yeah, you nobody spiteful piece of shit! -Nobody? -Yeah! My massive hard-on got 50,000 views on YouTube. A cat playing with a dildo gets more than that. -Hey! -Get the fuck out of here. - I don't care about any of... - Yes, you do! You care. - No, I don't. I'm a theatre actor. I don't give a shit. You care. -Everybody says, "Oh, Mike is so honest. Mike is so... -Ow! Hey! Hey! Ow! Hey, hey! -motherfucking truthful!" -Listen to me. Listen to me. -Fuck. Shit! You said in the interview your father was a drunk like Carver. -Is that true, Mike? -I'm... -Is that true? -No, no. -What? -'Cause my father was. My father was a mean fucking drunk. You understand? -Okay. -He beat the shit out of us. That was okay, though, you know, 'cause at least when he was beating us, he wasn't thinking about taking... (crying): taking us out to his toolshed. Because when we got out to the toolshed, that son of a bitch would smile and get... say, "You want to get down on your knees -"and unbuckle my belt? -Oh, Jesus. Or do you want me to take it off and use it on you?" After a while, I made myself numb, so, you know... (crying continues): But my... My little sister... (sobbing) Oh, okay, okay, okay. Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey. Oh, God, I... Uh, I didn't know. I'm-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, that-that is, that's fucking horrible, man. -Yeah, yeah. -I'm sorry. It's also not true. See, I can pretend, too, you... -Oh! Whoa. -Don't fuck with me, Mike! -I'm telling you. -You're-you're a little bit crazy. - You know what? You should start using that onstage. - Yeah? Yeah? You have no fucking idea. So, "Working with Riggan Thomson's like waltzing with a monkey"? -Huh? -I might have said that. Yeah, you... Come on! Let's go. Come on. -Yeah? -Yeah. Come on. Yeah, why don't you get your wings and your fucking bird suit, man? -Oh. -(grunts) Ow! -Hey! -(grunting) - Don't think you can try to fake... - Come on. - Don't try to fake me. -No! -Ow! (grunting) I'm gonna crab up on your ass and choke you out! I'm gonna fucking choke you out! Get off me! What are you looking at? What are you gonna do?! You gonna replace me? You gonna go get fucking Ryan Gosling or some shit? What do you think my friend, Tabitha, is gonna do to you in the Times, you fucking dilettante! (rapid drum roll) (voice-over): You are lame, Riggan, rolling around with that poncy theatre fuck in an 800-seat shithole like this? Oh, you really fucked up this time. You destroy a genius book with that infantile adaptation. Now you're about to destroy what's left of your career. It's pathetic. Breathing in, I am calm. VOICEOVER: Let's get the hell out of here while we can. Breathing out, I ignore this mental formation. This is a mental formation. Stop that shit! - This is just a mental formation... - I'm not a mental formation. -...from the past. -I'm you, asshole. Leave me alone. You were a movie star, remember? Pretentious but happy. -I wasn't happy. -Ignorant but charming. Now you're just a tiny, bitter cocksucker. I was fucking miserable. I was fucking miserable. Yeah, but fake miserable. Hollywood miserable. What are you trying to prove?! That you're an artist? -(moans) -Well, you're not. -Fuck you! -No, fuck you! You coward. We grossed billions. What are you, ashamed of that? -Billions! -And billions of flies eat shit every day! So what? Does that make it good? (panting) I don't know if you noticed, but that was 1992! You could jump right back into that suit if you wanted to. We're not dead. Look at me. Will you look? Look, look at this! Look! Look, look! I look like a turkey with leukaemia! I'm fucking disappearing. (panting) This is what's left. I'm the answer to a fucking Trivial Pursuit question! You're an imposter here. Eventually, they're gonna figure you out. What part of this don't you get? You're dead. Please... -We are not dead. -Oh, please. Just stay dead. -Just stay dead. -We are not dead. Stop saying "we"! There is no we. I'm not fucking you! I'm Riggan fucking Thomson. No. You're Birdman. Because without me, all that's left is you, a sad, selfish, mediocre actor grasping at the last vestiges of his career. What the hell did you do that for? I like that poster. (chuckles) It's always "we," brother. RIGGAN: Fuck you! Shut the fuck up! Leave me alone! You're fucking... so fucking annoying! Shut up! (panting) Hey. What's up? Um, well, -one hour till curtain. -Yeah, cool. Why don't you try to rest a little bit? Yeah, that's what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna lay down. Almost there, buddy. -Last preview. -Okay, okay, cool. -How you doing? -Good. Great. Good. Uh, the money came through. I just need to transfer it into the account. There you go. Thank you. Good. That's terrific. - So, yeah, I'll go, uh, do that. - Thanks for stopping by. -Yeah. -Okay. You know I'm proud of you, don't you? (Riggan grunts) This took balls. And you did it, okay? I know. Hey, I think we ought to cancel the preview. What? I'm tired, dude. I can't do this anymore, Jake. I can't. (chuckles) That's a joke, right? You know, I don't think this is for me. The whole... (sighs) They're laughing at me. There is a three-block line of people waiting for you. It's a full house. We're-we're sold out. Really? Yes! And the French ambassador is coming. And the prince of Saudi Arabia is bringing one of his wives. And I didn't want to tell you this, but Martin Scorsese... is casting his new film, and, you know, don't tell anybody. -No, no, no, I won't. -I think that should be between you and me, okay? Okay? Okay, yeah. Yeah, I can, I can be ready. I can be ready. -Good. -Cool. Thank you. (sighs) Christ. How is he? (closes door) He'll be fine. (relieved sigh) Poor creature. Is it true? Scorsese? Yeah. And the new Pope, too. You're an asshole, Jake. I'm the one keeping this afloat! (sighs) Hey. Are you okay? Yeah. Yeah. No, I think I cut my hand shaving. Well, I-I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. What for? Well... I knew what Mike was capable of, -and... I brought him in anyway. -No, no, no, no, no. You did good, you did good. Are you kidding? You did great. Tomorrow's my... first opening night on Broadway. Mine, too. (chuckles) And I just want you to know that no matter what happens, that... - I'm really grateful to you. - Oh, no, no. Me, too. Hey, this is exciting. Hey, we have a full house. Jake just told me. Yeah, that's great. (sighs): Oh, God. (door creaks quietly) -(horn honks in distance) -(flicks lighter) (man shouts indistinctly in distance) For fuck's sake, just jump already. How did you know I'd be up here? Well, I didn't know, but I... kind of hoped, maybe. Where's Lesley? Lesley? Uh... Lesley's moving on. Smart girl. Oh, thank you. I appreciate that support. You ready for your last preview? Sure, yeah. Who did that to you? Could've been anybody, I guess. (chuckles softly) Yes. I'm sort of hoping it was Lesley. Well, it wasn't Lesley. Oh, my God. -You fucking kidding me? -No. (indistinct chatter, laughter in distance) -Jesus Christ! -No, no, I-I... -He... (groans) -I think maybe I deserved it. (siren wailing in distance) Fuck. Hey. Fuck. Tell me something, what is... what is the worst thing that he did to you? Seriously. He was never around. Yeah? I mean, so what? That was it? No. It was... how he tried to make up for it by constantly trying to convince me that I was special. (quiet laugh) Okay. Look. Look at me. He was right, though. About what? About your being special. You know, y... you've been hanging around here, trying to make yourself invisible behind this fragile little fuckup routine of yours, but you can't. You're anything but invisible; you're big. And you're kind of a great mess. It's like a candle burning on both ends, but it's beautiful. No amount of booze or weed or attitude is gonna hide that. I am glad you're an actor and not a writer, 'cause that was... like... Oprah... Hallmark... R. Kelly bad. Yeah, well, I wasn't... Mmm. (horn honking in distance) (Mike clears throat) Truth or dare? Truth. No. (slow footsteps approach) Truth. No. Truth or dare? (door creaks shut) MIKE: Do you have any idea where you're going? Absolutely not. -(indistinct talking below) How do you do it? Do what? How do you go out there every single night and pretend to be somebody else in front of all those people? I don't pretend out there, I told you. I pretend just about everyplace else, but not out there. That's a shame. What are we doing here? What do you mean? I mean, what are we doing here? RIGGAN: Fucking teenager. By the time we got to the hospital, the kid... the kid was dead. So... we took the old couple up to the O.R., and we... worked like hell on 'em... through most of the night. The... husband, the old man, was depressed for the longest time. Even after I told him the wife was gonna pull through, he was still depressed. So, I went up to the mouth hole, and I... I asked him. And... he told me it was because he couldn't see her, the wife, through the eye holes. Can you imagine? I'm telling you, this guy's heart was breaking, 'cause he couldn't turn his goddamn head just to see his goddamn wife. So... I guess the question we should ask ourselves is: What do we talk about when we talk about love? (applause) -(applause continues) -(whistling) LESLEY: Mel and I had been together five years, and I don't know how many times I'd heard the words, "I love you," -(whispers): There you go. -but it wasn't till that... -The blood rig should be good now. -Okay. -Be ready to go in two minutes. -Okay. Here. That was amazing. -Yeah, good, right? -Yeah! Yeah. Yeah, I think so. - (Lesley continues monologue) - It's actually going well. (panting): Yeah. Hey, uh... I think we need to talk. No, no. (chuckles) Yeah, I guess you're right. But we will eventually, because that's the only way I'm gonna get a chance to say I'm sorry. I really am sorry. We could've made great parents. -(applause) -Horrible. We would've been... -Awful. We would've raised, like... -Serial killers. Justin Bieber. (chuckles) (applause continues) I really wanted to be a mom. But my body doesn't seem to agree. (exhales) When I imagined myself on Broadway, I never saw the dancing reindeer. Nice touch. (exhales) (exhales) LAURA: In the days before Nick's depression started to eat away at him, he had no idea I was pregnant, and I never intended on telling him. I guess you make choices in life and you choose to live with them. -(Sam laughs) Or not. I didn't want that baby. Not because I didn't love Nick, and not because I didn't love the idea of it, but because... I just wasn't ready to love myself. (Riggan panting quietly) -There's a distance to it now. -(quiet grunt) RIGGAN: Hey, Jimmy, you got a smoke? LAURA: ...underscored by a gentle breeze... and the sound of birds... laughing at the whimsy of it all. (rain falling) -RIGGAN: Jimmy! Hey! God! (strained grunting) Hey! Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy! (grunts) (whispers): Shit. Fuck. Hey! Goddamn it. (strained grunting) Shit! Fuck! (strained grunting) (rainfall continues) (panting) (quietly): Fuck. (grunting): Fuck, fuck, fuck. (panting) -Hey. Aren't you Riggan Thomson? -Shit. No, no. Holy shit, let me get an autograph. -Don't be a dick; let me get an autograph. -Fine. -MAN (calls): Hey, Birdman! -Dude, you fucking rock! Birdman! Look over here. -Oh, shit! -WOMAN (laughs): Oh, gross! Aw, shit, shit... (panting): Fuck. Shit. Oh, my God! Do you see that? Can we take one picture? -Not now. Oh, give me a break. -No, just one picture. You suck! -Get the fuck out of here. -You suck! (man laughing) -(drums playing) -WOMAN: Hey, Birdman! It's the Bird-fucking-Man! Hey! Come look at this guy! Birdman! Hey, Birdman! Whoo, yeah! (excited chatter) (man speaking indistinctly over P.A. system) WOMAN: Oh, you look so old in person. RIGGAN: Yeah, fuck you! (people shouting indistinctly) WOMAN: Sir! Sir! Where are you going? Sir! Where are you... Sir! -RIGGAN: What are you doing? -I'm waiting for Jake. This is my attorney, Mr. Roth. -What?! -We're pursuing financial remunerations -for the injuries Mr. Pinkus... -I got a play to do! No, excuse me, sir, you can't go in there. -RIGGAN: No, I got... -You can't... (grunts) ROTH: ...Actors' Equity is a very strong union, sir! (Riggan panting) (thunder sound effect) -Knock, knock, knock! -(people gasp) Terri! Terri! LESLEY: Ed? (excited chatter, laughter) What are... what are you doing here? Why?! I just need you to tell me why! MIKE: Okay, take it easy, Ed. I know this is hard. Shut up! Fuck you! Shut up! Shut up! -(audience quiets) -LESLEY: Eddie, please! (panting) What's wrong with me?! Why do I always... beg people to love me?! LESLEY: Eddie, please, just... please just give me the gun. (audience members talking indistinctly) I just wanted to be what you wanted. Now I spend every fucking... day trying to be somebody else, somebody I'm not! Put the gun down. She just doesn't love you. LESLEY: Oh! Eddie... -(Mike groans) -LESLEY: -Look at me. I was drowning. -I'm just not capable of that kind of... -(ringtone playing) You deserve to be loved, Eddie. You do. -RIGGAN: I just wanted to be what you wanted. -Hello? RIGGAN: Now I spend every fucking... Mr. Roth? Okay, don't... don't leave. Please don't... Is that a threat? What wheelchair? Okay, Mr. Roth, please just hear me out. Will you hear me out? Uh, d... don't hang up. Don't hang up. Okay, listen, give me ten minutes to grab my things-- give me ten minutes-- and we can meet to disc-- please don't hang up. Goddamn it! The motherfucker hung up! (Mike and Lesley shouting) (gunshots) (audience gasps) (applause) (applause fades) SAM: Dad? Dad. Hey. Are you okay? Why? You s-seem sort of... No, I'm good. I'm good. This is good. You want some? (softly): No. Mmm, okay. Do you really think you'll be ready for opening tomorrow? Yeah, yep. Yeah. Well, I mean, previews were pretty much a train wreck. We can't seem to get through a performance without... a raging fire or a raging hard-on. I'm broke. I'm not sleeping, like, you know, at all. And, uh, this play is kind of starting to feel like a miniature, deformed version of myself that just keeps following me around and, like, hitting me in the balls with a... like, a tiny little hammer. I'm sorry, what was the question? Never mind. Tonight wasn't bad. - I know. - It was... it was weird, but it was kind of cool. -Yeah, really? You think? -Yeah, I think people liked it. Yeah, well... What are you doing, by the way? Homework? No, I don't... No, um, my, uh... When I was in rehab, they made us do this. Really? What is it? It's, um... these dashes represent the six billion years that the Earth has been around. -Yeah? -And so each dash represents a thousand years. And, um, this is... how long humans have been here. 150,000 years. I think they're trying to remind us that that's all our ego and self-obsession are worth. I was a shitty father, wasn't I? No, you were... You were fine. Yeah. That's right, I was... I was just fine. Um... I can't... -Dad? -Huh? Oh, shoot. Oh, I'm sorry. - That's... you just wiped out the entire human race. - I know. (chuckles) There it goes. Oh, I'm sorry. (sighs) Hey, um... you're becoming a trending topic. -Really? -Yeah. I should probably tell you about this before anybody else does. (indistinct shouting on video) 350,000 views in less than an hour. (sighing): Fuck. Believe it or not, this is power. (indistinct shouting continues) MAN (on video): Hey, look, it's Riggan Thomson! MAN 2: Whoa, look at that. FEMALE NEWSCASTER: What you're seeing is Birdman actor Riggan Thomson running through the streets -of Times Square. -Hey, give me another one. -In his tighty-whiteys. -You got it. FEMALE NEWSCASTER: Oh, come on, that takes a lot of balls. -Or not. -Ouch. MALE NEWSCASTER: What do you have to do to get a job in this town these days? I know, like, why do actors have to resort to this? -Come on, just... -Thank you. That's going over to Ms. Dickinson. MAN: Yeah, yeah, give me a minute. Hey, um, that's on me. She's a friend of mine. -Okay. -MAN: No problem. Thank you. (grunts) MAN: Will do. (sighs) There you go. That was... 20 years before I put on that goddamn outfit. I don't care. Okay, I was just... (stammering) - You know, before you come tomorrow, I just... - It doesn't matter. Okay. - (sighs) - I'm going to destroy your play. But you didn't even see it. Um, you know, did I do something to offend you? -I-I'm so sorry... -As a matter of fact, you did. You took up space in a theatre which otherwise might have been used on something worthwhile. Okay, well, I mean, you don't even know if it's any good or not. -I didn't... -That's true. I haven't read a word of it or even seen a preview, but after the opening tomorrow, I'm going to turn in the worst review anybody has ever read, and I'm going to close your play. Would you like to know why? Because I hate you and everyone you represent. Entitled, selfish, spoiled children. Blissfully untrained, unversed and unprepared to even attempt real art. Handing each other awards for cartoons and pornography. Measuring your worth in weekends? Well, this is the theatre, and you don't get to come in here and pretend you can write, direct and act in your own propaganda piece without coming through me first. Uh-huh. So break a leg. (scoffs) Wow. You know, what has to happen in a person's life for them to become a critic, anyway? What are you writing, another review? Um, is it any good? Is it? Is it bad? Did you even see this? Let me read it. -Let me read it. -I will call the police. You won't call the police. Let's read your fucking review. "Callow." Callow is a label. Just, uh, "lacklustre." That's just a label. "Margin..." Marginalia? Are you kidding me? (scoffs) It sounds like you need penicillin to clear that up. That's a label, too. These are just all labels. You just label everything. That's so fucking lazy. You just... You're a lazy fucker. You're a lazy... You know what this is? Do you even know what that is? You don't. You know why? Because you can't see this thing if you don't know how to label it. You mistake all those little noises in your head for true knowledge. -Are you finished? -No, I'm not finished. There's nothing in here about technique. There's nothing in here about structure. Nothing in here about intention. It's just a bunch of crappy opinions backed up by even crappier comparisons. You write a couple of paragraphs, and you know what, none of this costs you fucking anything. You risk nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Well, I'm a fucking actor. (sighs) This play cost me everything. So I'll tell you what. You take this fucking... malicious, cowardly, shittily-written review, and you shove that right the fuck up your wrinkly, tight ass. (chuckles) You're no actor. You're a celebrity. Let's be clear on that. I'm gonna kill your play. (chuckles) (belches) MAN: "Tomorrow! "And tomorrow, and tomorrow! "Creeps... -(horn honking) -"in this... "petty pace... "from day to day, "to the last syllable... (woman whooping) "...of recorded time. "And... "all of our yesterdays... "have lighted... "fools! The way to..." Hey, give me a pint of whiskey, please. "...dusty death... "out... out..." CLERK: $6.50, my friend. -"brief candle..." -Huh? $6.50. Here, just, I don't know what that is. -"Life... -Just take it. -"is but a... -How about your... "walking shadow. "Poor... "player "struts and frets his hour upon the stage, "and then is heard no more! "It is a tale "told by an idiot "full of sound and fury signifying nothing!" Where you going, man? Was that too much? I was just trying to give you a range. It's a little bit too much, I can tell, because you... I just wanted to give you a range. I just... that was a little too much. That-that was a little too much. Was that too much? (sighs) (pedestrians chattering) (voice-over): God. You look like shit, brother. You get that mongoloid look when you're hung-over, don't you? (chuckles) Yeah. Let's go. Come on, get up. It's a beautiful day. -(groans) -Forget about the Times. Everyone else has. Come on. Stand up. So you're not a great actor. Who cares? You're much more than that. You tower over these other theatre douche bags. You're a movie star, man. You're a global force. Don't you get it? You spent your whole life building a bank account and a reputation, and you blew them both. Good for you. Fuck it. We'll make a comeback. They're waiting for something huge. We'll give it to them. Shave off that pathetic goatee. Get some surgery. 60 is the new 30, motherfucker. You are the original, man. You paved the way for all these other little clowns. Give the people what they want. Some good, old-fashioned, apocalyptic porn. Birdman: The Phoenix Rises. Pimple-faced gamers creaming in their pants. A billion worldwide, guaranteed. You were larger than life, man. You saved people from their boring, miserable lives. You make them jump, laugh, shit their pants. All you have to do is... (screaming) (over radio): Man down! Man down! That's what I'm talking about! Bones rattling! Big, loud, fast. Look at these people. Look at their eyes. They're all sparkling. They love this shit; they love blood. They love action, not this talky, depressing, philosophical bullshit. (bellowing) (voice-over): Yes. And the next time you screech... (screeches) ...it'll explode into millions of eardrums. You'll glimmer on thousands of screens around the globe. Another blockbuster. MAN: Hey, that guy's rising into the air. -BIRDMAN: You are a god. -Up there! -Hey, who is that? -Hey, you all right? BIRDMAN: See? There you go, you motherfucker. BIRDMAN: Gravity doesn't even apply to you. BIRDMAN: Wait till you see the faces of those who thought -we were finished. -(shouting) Listen to me. Let's go back one more time and show them what we're capable of. We have to end it on our own terms, with a grand gesture. Flames. -Sacrifice. -Oh, my God! There's somebody up there! -Icarus. -Oh, my God! You can do it. You hear me? -You are... -MAN: Birdman! (indistinct shouting) WOMAN: Hey, is this for real, or are you shooting a film? A film! You people are full of shit! MAN: Hey, man, can I help you? You should be careful. Sorry, can't talk. I'm late. Music. (orchestra playing) (music stops) You okay, man? You want me to call somebody for you? Do you know where to go? I know where to go. Oh, hey! No, wait! What the... (Riggan laughing) Oh! (chuckling): Oh! (laughing continues) Whoa! (wind whistling) BIRDMAN (voice-over): You see? This is where you belong. Above them all. Hey, you! Hey! (horns honking) WOMAN: How long you in town for? WOMAN 2: Oh, about two weeks. Oh, really? You'll get to see a lot. - MAN: Oh, that's not too bad. - So should I get four? - Yeah. -Stop the music. -Hey, hey, hey, hey. - I beg your pardon. - Hello, sir? - Hello, sir, you did not pay me. - (rants in native language) - What are you doing? -Where you going? Hey. - Hey, are you deaf, idiot? - This guy didn't pay me, man. That fucker is crazy. (ranting continues indistinctly) (speaking Spanish) -(tyres squealing) WOMAN: They got benefits and everything. It's nice. -Yeah, sure, yeah. -You said 15 blocks, right? That's it, four teams. -Not a bad first act, huh? -Not bad at all. It's going really well. I didn't think Hollywood could do Broadway. I never would have expected it from him. If the second act is half as good as that... -It's pretty glorious. See? -The whole evening - It's fantastic, really. - How long's the intermission? - Birdman can act! (crowd chattering) Oh, wow. I just came to say hello. It's going great out there. You're so good. I mean it. You're... -Thanks. Come sit. -I really mean it. ANNIE (over intercom): Places for the final scene, Riggan. Places for the final scene. -You need to... -No, no, no. It's fine. Just sit here for a second. - Look at all these roses. - I hate roses. - And you hate roses. (chuckles) Are you okay? You seem... You seem, I don't know, you seem abnormally calm. (chuckles) I am calm. Yeah, I'm great, actually. You know, I got this... little voice that talks to me sometimes. Tells me the truth. It's comforting. Kind of scary, but it's comforting. - I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear you say that. - Okay. (chuckles) You wouldn't believe the crowd outside. They said some people paid up to $500 a ticket. Really? Hey. Can I tell you something funny? Sure. You remember our last anniversary party? Seriously? You're gonna ruin a nice moment with that? - Do you remember the party? - The party where you fucked Janet Rossbach in our bed? Yeah, yeah, yeah, try to skip over that part for a minute, yeah. -Oh, gladly. And you threw all the guests out of the house? And you threw all the furniture out the window? -I remember. -And you locked yourself -in the bathroom. -Riggan, why are we talking about... I drove out to Malibu, and I just sat on the beach for a while looking out at the ocean. -Riggan? -And I... walked... straight into the water. And I tried to drown myself. I was up to my chest when I felt the first one on my back. It was like somebody was holding a frying pan against me, really burning, and then they were on my chest and all over my legs. The water was full of jellyfish. (laughs) They were all over me. I-I had to fight my way out of the water. I went up to the-the beach. I was rolling around like a maniac in the sand, (laughs): crying. You said it was a sunburn. Yeah, I know. And you believed me. To be honest, I didn't give a shit. (whispering): Man. I love you. And I love Sam. I know. I really wish I wouldn't have videotaped her birth, though. Why? 'Cause it... (sighs) I just missed the moment, really. Don't have it. I... I should've just been there with the two of you. You know? Just... the three of us. But I wasn't. I wasn't even present in my own life, and now I don't have it, and I'm never gonna have it. No, you have Sam. Not really, I don't. I mean, she's... No, no, no, listen. She's just going through... No, no, no, I get it. I understand. Yeah, no, she needed to have a dad and... instead she got this guy who was a three-day viral sensation. - It is so pathetic, I can't... - No, come on, there are more pathetic things than that. -Yeah, like? -That moustache. (chuckling) ANNIE (over intercom): Riggan, we are in the motel. Last scene has started. You're not here. Last chance for "places." You better get back to your seat. (door opens) (door closes) (whispering): 20 little leopards laughed at two lofty lions. 20 little leopards laughed at two lofty lions. 20 little leopards laughed at two lofty lions. 20 little leopards laughed at two lofty lions. (sniffs) Mmm, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah. Mmm, yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. Ah, ee. Ah, oh, ooh-ooh. Yum, yum. Ooh, yum, wah-ah-ah-ah, yum-yum-yum, wah. Yum, yum, yum, yum. (jazzy drums playing) Break a leg, Mr. Thomson. (man coughing) Let me put the blood rig on. Hey! Hey! Riggan! Hey! (thunder rumbling) Terri! Terri! Eddie! What are you doing here?! Why? I just want you to tell me why. -Just take it easy, man. -Just tell me why. -I know this is... -Shut up! Eddie, please. What's the matter with me? Tell me what's the matter. Why do I always end up having to beg people to love me? Eddie, please, just give me the gun. It was me; I was drowning. I'm just not capable of... You deserve to be loved, Eddie. You do. I just wanted to be what you wanted. What you wanted. Now I spend every fucking minute trying to be something else, someone I'm not. MIKE: Just put the gun down, Ed. She doesn't love you anymore. (thunder rumbling) You don't, do you? No. And you never will. (crying): I'm sorry. (exhales) Well... (laughs uncomfortably) I don't exist. I'm not even here. I'm not even here. Bang! (whimpers) (whispering): Bang. -(gunshot) -(audience gasps) (rain falling) (cheering and yelling) (cheering continues) (whooping) (knocking at door) Yes? (door opens) Is he, um... He just woke up. (machine beeps) I thought I lost you, buddy. What the hell happened? I was watching you on that stage, and then all the sudden, you had that goofy look in your eye, (laughing): and you were just, like, honestly... What is wrong with you? -He tried to... -I'm happy! He's alive; my best friend is alive! And... he happens to be the fucking man of the hour. -RIGGAN: What is that? -You have to be shitting me. Read it. I don't believe this. "The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance." -Read it. -Oh. -"By Tabitha Dickinson." -Read it out loud. "Thomson has unwittingly given birth to a new form which can only be described as super-realism. "Blood was spilled both literally and metaphorically "by artist and audience alike, real blood. "The blood that has been sorely missing from the veins of the American theatre." -(sighs) -(chuckles) You're happy about this? Yeah, happy? I'm fucking euphoric! This is... this is the kind of review that turns people into living legends. - He shot the nose off his face! - He's got a new nose! And if he doesn't like that one, we'll get him a new one. We'll use Meg Ryan's guy. Who gives a shit? They're lighting candles for him in Central Park. Turn on your TV. Where's the... They're praying for him all across the country. He did it. You did it. I've been reborn, brother. And I can see the future. This play is gonna last forever. It's gonna open in London and Paris, and the studio is gonna call again, and we're gonna get some book deals-- you'll see. - So you can see the future? - Yeah, I can see the future. How about that, huh? Did you see that coming? Why aren't you saying anything? This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Riggan, this is what you wanted. Yeah, yeah, this is what I wanted. Okay, listen, you're gonna get hit with a brandishing a weapon charge, okay? If anybody talks to you about it, it was an accident. -(softly): Okay. Is that what this was? - An accident? - An accident. That's what I want to go... -(door opens) -Did you intend to shoot yourself? -Hey, hey, hey, hey. -You motherfuckers! -Get the fuck out! Get out! -This is a hospital! -Are you coming back... -Get the fuck out of here! -Move! -This is a hospital! -Get the fuck out! -Ma'am, get back! -Get the fuck out, you assholes! -Get back! - (elevator bell dings) - Okay, out! - This is a personal matter! -Hey, hey, hey, hey! -A personal matter! -Hey, hey, get out! -I don't give a shit! Hey, Sam! What did it feel like the night your father tried.... Go back! Get the fuck out of here, you fucking asshole! (shouting continues) Lilacs. (chuckles) Are you laughing? -Yeah. -What's so funny? I can't smell them. (Sam laughs wryly) (Riggan snorting) What are you doing? I'm posting a photo on your Twitter page. I have a Twitter page? Yeah, I set it up today. -Let me see. -No way. No, you look hideous. Oh, wow, thank you. I appreciate it. I'm just kidding. No, I'm actually not. You-you do look hideous. (Riggan chuckles) You got 80,000 followers in less than a day. - Really? - Yeah, I'm gonna scare the shit out of all of them. -Let me look at it. -Uh-uh. It's done. Uh, I'm gonna go get a vase for the flowers. Okay. (machine beeps) (door opens) (door closes) Oh. (groans, muttering) (woman speaking indistinctly over P.A.) (groans) (grunting) (groans) Oh, my. (toilet flushes) Bye-bye. And fuck you. (machine beeping) (birds singing) (grunting exhale) (momentous music) Dad? Dad? Dad? (panting) (chuckles)