REVIEW: Maestro (2023, dir. Bradley Cooper)
It is a not uncommon occurrence that around this time of year a major Hollywood star, wearing an intense amount of makeup and affecting a questionable accent, will regale us with their finest performance as a notable historical figure and demand we consider them for certain awards in the new year. Maestro, presents itself as one such project. It is no secret to everyone keeping an eye on Hollywood at the moment that actor/director Bradley Cooper has set his sights on the gold statue for some time now, and more power to him, and such is his right as a professional to want recognition for his work. And yet, I find myself sat here after watching the film (on Netflix) compelled to say that this is a far more ambitious feature than many have expected.
Maestro, central focus is the marriage between conductor/composer/pianist/educator, Leonard Bernstein (deftly played by Cooper behind a mountain of prosthetics), and his wife Felicia Cohn Montealegre (brought to life by Carey Mulligan). It is not, as one might expect, a biopic of Bernstein. We do not see anything of Bernstein’s or Montealegre’s respective childhoods. The timeline of the film remains tightly focused on the marriage, with only Bernstein’s famous Carnegie Hall stand-in for Bruno Walter before he met Felicia, and a brief scene towards the end of ‘Lenny’s’ life being depicted. And, in keeping its subject focused, the film is able to overcome the wikipedia summary detritus that plagues the genre. You take out the names and the cultural cache of the characters itself and you are left with a fundamentally strong, substantive relationship drama. The film is not concerned with the creation of fetishistic depictions of genius nor does it justify the actions of its lead character as a natural consequence of genius, it is concerned with how Bernstein’s sexuality affected his and Montealegre’s relationship. And, given that very few directors outside of Ken Russell have ever managed to depict musical genius on film in an engaging manner, I am grateful for the decision.
Cooper directs the piece with a level of style and craft that took me completely by surprise. Choosing to shoot the film in a number of long takes, in the old 4:3 Academy ratio, he lets the acting breathe and the gorgeous sets and costumes overcome the eye. When it can be avoided, Cooper doesn’t cut, but he allows the camera to follow movement in order to maintain the illusion that these are lived in moments we’re privy to. It is a film lived in the long shot, detached and removed from intimacy; perfectly composed yet cold. In a way, this is the perfect environment for Carey Mulligan, an actor I’ve previously thought poorly of due to her innate blankness. What struck me about Mulligan’s performance is that she’s able to depict on her face the warmth which Cooper’s Bernstein seems able to infect everyone with. The chemistry between the leads is immaculate. As the time passes you feel the weight of every year of the marriage in the performance and it should be commended for that at the very least.
Not all of Cooper’s decisions work for me. I believe the film lacks a strong secondary cast, with Sarah Silverman’s performance being a complete disaster (although this will not surprise anyone who has paid attention to the last thirty years). There are a number of moments which are harder to parse tonally, with humour that fails to find its mark. One particular scene involving a Snoopy parade float leaving me completely unsure as to how Cooper expects me to read it. And I’m not entirely sure what the final scene was trying to communicate. One supposes that it is a kind of liberation, but the dissonance between it and the film which proceeded it was ultimately less than satisfying. And, the contemporaneous pop music needle-drops grate against this grandiose, old-world, cinematic language in a way that, as someone who is a particular fan of Bernstein’s lectures on popular music, I couldn’t appreciate. Although I understand their purpose, an attempt to ground the piece somewhat in a more modern, ‘real’ feeling world. Given that both, Bernstein died 33 years ago, and I adored the film for its artificiality, such a decision fell on deaf ears. I will be the first to admit, though, that such things can be forgiven for the sake of good drama, and, indeed, I do forgive it.
For those looking for all of the sordid details of Bernstein’s life, as I’m sure many people were hoping, this is an incredibly chaste picture. Todd Haynes’s magnificent, Carol, this is not (even if it seems to have borrowed much from its visual playbook). Whilst Bernstein does flirt with men, all of the intimacy is implied, or in the form of much smaller gestures. There is one post sex-scene with Felicia, but the rest is implied only in dialogue. I am sure there will be much discussion on this in coming months and the implications of what the film does or does not show will be better handled by those more qualified to speak on it than I. I only felt as though this was worth being mentioned as the film is being marketed by Netflix as an LGBTQ film and is focused on a noteworthy bisexual figure.
When all is said and done, if this was not such a strong year for film, I would expect, Maestro, to do quite well over the awards season. Unfortunately, however, in a year with both, Oppenheimer, and, Killers of the Flower Moon, it is difficult to say. For what it is worth, though, I believe that Bradley Cooper has directed a fine feature, and one which I would recommend to any interested parties. Whilst I expected, Maestro, to fall into the trap of many attention seeking and gaudy award-season biopics, what I found instead was an intimate and often understated drama worthy of America’s first great conductor.
This was only intended to be a short review and introduction to Bradley Cooper’s, Maestro. If I have any further thoughts or a desire to analyse the film in any more depth it will be in the form of a longer piece relating primarily to this historical Leonard Bernstein and I will link that here if it happens.
Ryan Sweeney