So it seems that Maestro is to be the film that is of this Oscar season one of my films to defend and certainly the film that I really cannot get on the side of much of the hate surrounding it. There are a handful of flaws in this film to my eye and personal taste counts for a lot as it always has, but I just do not understand how this film can referred to as ‘cliche’ or those who refer to it as typical ‘Oscar bait’. This is a movie that frequently defies the typical tropes of such a film and in fact relishes taking visually experimental turns to depict what could be more played out scenes, in the dialogue too I can’t help but feel that there is a naturalism and an astounding rhythm to all that is said that stands directly in bold comparison from the slew of far worse biopics we get each year. Is this a similar case like Ghostbusters: Afterlife where despite being one of the better in its sub-genre, in that case the soft reboot, Maestro has simply come at the crest where people have truly grown done with musical biopics? Well that’s fine because in every single way bar one early scene Maestro is the transcendent and bold biopic to clear the taste of the others.
Maestro, to be blunt, is not the film that everybody keeps saying that it is. It is by no means a cookie cutter biopic, or a tired cliché ridden vanity project – although it does scarily start like one. There is an early scene where two lines are spoken almost back to back, this is following a previous scene that depicted the arguably most famous moment of Leonard Bernstein’s early career, where in a very rat-a-tat-tat fashion a man asks of Leonard “is this for the new ballet you’re writing about three sailors on leave in New York?”, followed very swiftly by Cooper’s Bernstein introducing “you know David and over there, that’s Jerry Robbins”. In all honesty it felt like a parody of a biopic, the amount of swift expositional dialogue we were getting. I must of course note that I am a tremendous fan of Bernstein, of Robbins, of Sondheim, of Laurents, of Comden and Green, of this entire era of Broadway, so I can hat in hand concede that what may be obvious to me may be necessary to the general audience member. However it was to my great relief that what follows after this point is a single bravura experimental dance sequence shot with the same stellar camera-work that launched Cooper with Star is Born (a movie I have been outspoken about its greatness) and then gradually becomes a film less about the bravura sequence (bar one notable scene that serves almost as a finale), nor is it about Bernstein’s career at all. What follows after this sensational scene setting is a series of distanced and fragmental moments of the marriage of Bernstein to his wife Felicia Montealegre through the arc of their relationship to one another. It is here where the film finds its core and it is here where some of the years best acting, writing and complex beauty can be found. I just cannot understand those who hear the rhythmic overlapping, nor the natural delivery, nor for that matter view the stellar camera work that depicts these moments less with flourish as the film continues, more so with distained pain, and still feel that this is some sort of typical Oscar bait.
But this is of course a film of performance. Cooper has once again excelled on a technical level with his directing and his writing, this time working with Josh Singer on the screenplay, but here in his performance he has once again defied mimicry and imitation and imbued what could be seen as a truly bold character with humanity, pathos, humour and a truly pained quality. But on the other hand this is not a film that bows under the tragic elements of the lives of those we see, there is complexity and there is anguish, but there is a lightness in addition. But as Cooper has frequently proclaimed, this is not a film about Bernstein, as much as it is a film about Bernstein and his wife Felicia. As Felicia Carey Mulligan similarly defies simple recreation and truly down to the finest notations and lilts in her voice and slight mannerisms offers a sublime portrait of pain, love and human complexity, paired with Cooper it really is a pair of true powerhouse works. In-fact Matt Bomer and Maya Hawke below them in supporting roles offer similarly excellent work and in the case particularly of Bomer, one wishes for one more scene to really be able to boast the acting talents even more. As the speechless looks and eyes of Bomer during one particular scene stand easily with anything that Cooper and Mulligan do themselves.
Beyond the
performances, much has already been said about the makeup work in this film on
an ethical level and one needn’t comment, nor for that matter it seems will
only be chastised for doing so, one can simply say that the work itself of Kazu
Hiro is by far the finest makeup work I have ever seen on a screen when it comes
to realistic depictions of aging. I mean it is truly, truly astounding work
that remains without fault on a practical level. Much the same can be said for
the stellar cinematography of Mathew Libatique who takes us through eras with
ease shifting colour and ratio with the most subtle of movements to offer once
again a true beauty in the pain of a life we have only seen the veneer of. Cooper
makes the decision to score the movie almost entirely with the music of
Bernstein himself and it is this reverence and often perfect deployment of the
material in his own film that offers the best argument for Cooper’s adoration,
fascination and justification in making this brilliant project succeed.
A 9/10 that I never thought I would have to defend so much in the public sphere. I think to be frank this returns to my argument for sincerity we have lost, however this time behind the scenes rather than on. Cooper has poured his heart and soul and his love and his hate into this project and intentionally made it a peculiar beast that defies many of the typical tropes and pitfalls of the genre it is within. This is actually a rather obtuse film that shifts at irregular intervals and when it does settle in for extended sequences always delivers. Cooper and Mulligan for me are beyond two of the best of the year and again I find it hard to put words to how this film really does for the most part put obstacles almost in the way of the typical trappings of the typical biopic. ‘The screaming match’ is overlapping and from afar with a darkly comic button, the grand ‘I love you’ moment is never really seen instead a series of quieter moments are chosen. Yes, the Mahler sequence is truly astounding but for the most part Maestro is a film of the simple and subtle moments in-between the typical biopic huge scenes, which to be frank makes much of the criticism around the film frustrate me deeply.
SPOILER P.S I loved Maestro, but I cannot lie and I won’t lie that the final line of the film took me out of it. Not because of Cooper, not because of anything that Maestro did, but instead because of the absolute pop culture osmosis of David S. Pumpkins. Has a sketch in recent memory ever subsumed a common phrase to be its only relation in this long a time? And Yes, I know it’s a reference to Candide, just like I knew Jerome Robbins before you said the name out loud… But of course one must be aware that not everybody knows the libretto of the much altered libretto of your operetta? And yes, I did accidentally just write ‘your’ as if Bernstein made this film himself and I keep that typo in actually, because whatever can be said I do think that speaks to the absolute transcendence that occurs on screen.
- -Thomas Carruthers
0 Comments