The biographical drama genre is as popular as it is stale and uninteresting. Filming a truly thought-provoking and unique work is rarely possible due to the amount of historical facts and often respect for recognized personalities. At least we rarely see a clear effort like in the case of Rocketman, the result usually turns out to be similarly toothless as Bohemian Rhapsody. And unfortunately, the same ultimately applies to the Maestro, who gets himself a real whip right from the start.
It begins with a quote from Leonard Bernstein that art is not supposed to answer questions, but to raise them, and that its true essence lies in the tension between conflicting answers. This is a well-known and very sympathetic idea, but the film does not stick to it at all. The director, co-screenwriter, producer (together with Steven Spielberg or Martin Scorsese, for example) and lead actor Bradley Cooper apparently preferred his six-year conducting training and a mask elaborated to the smallest detail over an imaginative presentation of Bernstein’s life story, to whom it would really be better to ask questions.
At the same time, the introduction is more than promising. Matthew Libatique’s camera does not avoid long shots and elaborate movements, almost every scene during the first tens of minutes is made special by some camera finesse. Sometimes we see a seemingly one-shot fly-by between different environments, other times we see functional visual symbolism. At first glance, the black-and-white image in the academic format catches the eye, and although these sequences follow the relatively clear establishment of a young musician in the industry, they are really entertaining, at least from a formal point of view.
From the moment when the twenty-five-year-old Bernstein accidentally gets to conduct a large orchestra, we witness a linear rise. The creative artist composes classical and popular music, in the 1950s he established himself in the novelty called television, he also composed for film. In addition, he teaches, conducts and plays – he does not avoid anything in the field of music, he wants to try and experience everything.
But the same applies to the relationship sphere. At first we see him in a romantic relationship with the clarinetist David, but later he falls in love with the Costa Rican actress Felicia Montealegre. It’s not always clear how much of Bernstein is truly bisexual and how much of his marriage is more of a masking of real feelings for the sake of public opinion, but that’s ultimately not that important. Intelligent and understanding Felicie has been his support for a long time and tolerates his (at the time unorthodox) antics. But only until there is too much for her.
However, the change in feelings and, consequently, in the relationship of the central couple comes suddenly, incomprehensible from the audience’s point of view – because both of them still behave the same way. By that time, we are already watching everything in color and in a more modern cut, but at the same time, the camera plays are also decreasing and the picture paradoxically slides into a much greater gray compared to the introduction. The Maestro becomes a routine and predictable relationship drama, in which Bernstein prioritizes work and the quick gratification of flings over the ant care of his family, much to the chagrin of his wife. In the end, there is also a fateful twist, the realization of which takes place completely mechanically, and the film thus reaches its conclusion rather cumbersomely.
The pronounced stylization of the opening passages thus ultimately covers up another conservative biopic that just skims over the surface. At the same time, the obviously neurotic, restless personality of Bernstein, who does not want to be alone even in the toilet, deserves a deeper investigation. Cinematic Bernstein says that sometimes he can’t even find himself, despite this, he constantly tries to precisely conduct his own life. He still surrounds himself with people, he falls into depression himself. Unlike the somewhat similar Blondýnka, however, we only hear about these dives into Bernstein’s mind, we don’t really get under his skin.
As the footage progresses, the realities are conveyed in just a few sentences, and with the exception of the undeniably demanding one-shot conducting of the orchestra in Elyske Cathedral, we spend most of the time with the intimate relationship drama. Behind every successful man is a strong woman, they say, and we would be hard-pressed to find a more unambiguous fulfillment of this phrase. The film is therefore closer to template-like biographies about LGBTQ+ topics in the style of Van Sant’s Milk, on the contrary, Tár, which is narratively and thematically much more complex, also deals with the inner demons of a conductor torn apart.
In the end, as is the case with biographical dramas, the acting dominates the film. Carefully disguised (and looking like Aldrich Kaiser in the third stage of his life), Bradley Cooper is clearly attacking Oscar, which Carey Mulligan is quite successfully trying to second. The protagonist does not put down a cigarette, and aging is enhanced not only by masks, but also by a significantly lower pitched voice in the later parts. An acting gig, one would like to say.
Play Trailer Cooper’s penchant for telling big stories was evident in his debut A Star Is Born, and capturing the life of arguably America’s most seminal conductor across four decades is undeniably ambitious. Despite the enormous efforts of Cooper the actor and (especially in the first part of the film) Cooper the director, the result is only a dull prelude, avoiding real controversy or raising provocative questions. Although Cooper would stand for exactly such a thing.
2023-12-21 15:30:00
#REVIEW #Maestro
