Entertainment
Michael Keaton’s 2000s, R-Rated Comedy Thriller Is An Early Version Of His Most Important Film
By Robert Scucci
| Published

2014’s Birdman is one of my favorite Michael Keaton films for a number of reasons. The one-shot aesthetic allows for clever continuity tricks, and the self-referential meta humor about a washed up superhero actor trying to be taken seriously on stage instead of on the silver screen makes it a satisfying watch on every level. Keaton’s ability to toe the line as a man on the verge of a mental health crisis while taking on his most ambitious project is deadpan, darkly hilarious, and suicidally beautiful. Its ambiguous ending also makes it the perfect movie for repeat watches, since there are always pieces of subtext that slip by the first time, only to click into place later.
When I first stumbled upon 2005’s Game 6 on Tubi, I was enthralled by the synopsis because it reads like a proto version of Birdman, but with a much leaner and more grounded premise. Leaning into more conventional dramatic territory, it ends up being a solid watch on its own, while also feeling like a raw early draft of the kind of character Keaton would fully realize nearly a decade later.
If you reluctantly go into Game 6 expecting a second-rate Birdman, you’ll be relieved to find that both films stay firmly in their own lane. They share thematic DNA, but each has its own tone and personality, which makes them equally valid entries in Michael Keaton’s filmography rather than competing echoes of the same idea.
Not Riggan, But Rather Rogan
Michael Keaton plays Nicky Rogan in Game 6, a cynical but highly successful playwright living in New York City. Everyone in his inner circle insists that his new play will be his best work yet, largely because he’s leaning into more serious and less playful subject matter. The expectation is that this shift will cement his legacy as one of the leading playwrights of his generation. While his professional life appears to be riding high, the rest of his world is slowly falling apart. His marriage is collapsing under the weight of resentment and exhaustion with his soon-to-be ex-wife Lillian (Catherine O’Hara), and his relationship with his young adult daughter Laurel (Ari Graynor) is strained on its best day.
Family dynamics in Game 6 aside, Nicky is dealing with two additional problems that send him spiraling.
First, and most pressing, his best friend Elliot (Griffin Dunne) warns him that a potentially scathing review from notorious drama critic Steven Schwimmer (Robert Downey Jr.) could ruin his career. Elliot is a shell of his former self, having never recovered from a brutal review Schwimmer once wrote about him, and he blames that single piece of criticism for permanently derailing his reputation. Nicky becomes increasingly anxious that his own play will suffer a similar fate, especially since his lead actor Peter Redmond (Harris Yulin) is battling a brain parasite that causes him to forget his lines during rehearsals.
While Nicky should be focused entirely on getting his play through opening night without disaster, something else gnaws at him even more deeply than the fear of professional failure. It’s Game 6 of the World Series, and the Boston Red Sox are one win away from winning the championship. To anyone willing to listen, Nicky frames his entire outlook on life through his relationship with the Red Sox. By all logic, they should always win, yet somehow they always find a way to blow it at the last possible moment. That mindset defines him, despite the fact that his own career has been objectively successful up to this point.
In an attempt to make peace with himself and take pause before his play receives its first major reviews, Nicky skips his own premiere so he can watch the game and take stock of his life. His divorce is imminent, his professional reputation feels compromised, and the future he worked so hard to build suddenly feels uncertain. Egged on repeatedly by Elliot, he even begins to entertain the question of whether killing Schwimmer would somehow offer relief from the damage a single cruel voice can inflict on his legacy.
A Perfect Companion Piece To Birdman
Where Birdman places its emphasis on Riggan’s psychological collapse as the pressure of opening night mounts, Game 6 takes a more restrained and dramatic approach to similar material. Both films wrestle with the idea of legacy, but Game 6 focuses on a man who has already found success and is terrified that it might vanish without warning. Nicky is the human embodiment of the Boston Red Sox mentality. Successful until the moment he drops the ball, with that ever-present fear poisoning his ability to enjoy what he’s already earned.
Birdman centers on a former movie star attempting to reinvent himself on Broadway, pouring everything he has into a stage adaptation of Raymond Carver’s “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love” while his personal life disintegrates. Game 6, on the other hand, follows a man who could comfortably retire tomorrow and still be remembered as a success, yet stands to lose everything that actually matters to him outside of his career. Both films examine insecurity through these very specific circumstances, but they take radically different stylistic paths as they play out. Game 6 plays its story straight, while Birdman unfolds like a fever dream.
The ideal way to experience Game 6, currently streaming for free on Tubi, is before revisiting Birdman. Watching them back to back highlights how the same actor can explore similar thematic ground from completely different angles. Together, they form an unintentional double feature that deepens appreciation for Keaton’s work, and Game 6 in particular feels like the missing link in his career that hints at his later masterpiece.