Real and Unreal Very different recent movie viewings over the last week or so. First, Birdman, with Michael Keaton, a magical-realist story of a washed-up action hero trying to do a serious Broadway play, and maybe losing his mind in the process. Even though the setting is limited in scope, swirling around on itself as the characters move through the theatre and sometimes the bar next door, it's well-paced and keeps you moving right with it. The music, just drums, is sometimes intrusive, but not too often. And the titles are a throw-back to the sixties, when titles design was an integral part of movie-making much more so than is common now. Probably not for everyone, although it seems everyone is going to see it, as I keep overhearing people talking about it. That is most likely a function of just how good it is. Then Selma, which we saw at the St. George Bank Open Air Cinema. Rain poured in the hour the gates opened, but most of us didn't show up until well after. These are always top movies, first-runs, and a pleasant enough evening. The first time we went, high winds kept the screen from rising, but the second year was a treat. Selma can't be described that way. This is a tough movie to watch, and I kept flashing to Eric Garner and Ferguson Missouri. So much progress and so little changed. The performances are all of the highest quality, as is every other aspect of the film. I can find nothing to fault in it, except maybe that the actor playing George Wallace doesn't quite fit my rememberance of the man, whom I picture more like Edward G. Robinson. Funny what memory will do to pictures like this one. This is, however, one of those films that everyone will praise and many fewer will see, but it should be watched like the Best Picture it in many ways deserves to be.