Maestro – Review

Music biopics are one of the most tiresome and obnoxious things plaguing our film slates. Formulaic, uninterested in anything beyond surface layer exploration, and really only there to bombard you with songs you already know, they take few risks and offer few true insights.

So thank goodness for Bradley Cooper’s Maestro.

A film that was sadly produced and released by Netflix instead of getting a large theatrical run, Cooper’s second film is a gripping portrait of a marriage that digs into the heart of who Leonard Bernstein was instead of an episodic narrative from the cradle to the grave. Driven by an adoration for the subject and their art, the actor/director takes all of the loveliness and physicality of the man and creates an unencumbered account of the history. It’s mythmaking, it’s deconstruction, but most importantly it’s about the relationships that define us.

While it may at first seem odd that Carey Mulligan is first-billed it soon becomes clear that this is truly her story. The Promising Young Woman actress has always had a very specific savvy, her wide-eyed performance as Felicia Montealegre takes a more understated approach. Weaving together all the forms of Felicia, from wife to handler to beard, Mulligan can create a character that is deeply in love and angry at being cast aside. It’s a marvelous performance, one of her best, and despite not being the titular maestro it’s the film’s core.

That does not dismiss Cooper’s wonderful work as Bernstein. The nose seems silly at first but sinks into a vociferous performance that is going to serve just as destructive to the actor’s voice as his work in A Star is Born. There is, perhaps, no more incredible and lovely scene this year than his recreation of Bernstein’s performance of Mahler’s “Resurrection Symphony” at the Ely Cathedral. The ability to lose oneself so completely, to become one with what one loves, and to find expression through art, is difficult to portray without feeling saccharine. Bradley Cooper gives an incredible performance but this moment is truly a stunner.

It is, of course, captured by Matthew Libatique’s excellent camera work. The cinematographer is known for his collaborations with Darren Aronofsky; precision, sweeping grandiosity, and gritty realism. For Cooper, he creates something different, a picture that feels as though he’s constantly shooting both a musical and a cancer drama. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Academy ratio and black-and-white to color, all that’s flashy and cool. What Libatique does with these things, however, culminates in very period-specific images that plant the film squarely wherever Cooper needs it at the moment. Whether ending a harsh dramatic scene with a hilarious snoopy balloon or capturing long takes of hyperactive movement, he’s always on point.

It’s such a shame that I couldn’t see this in a theatre. The sound design begs for a big screen, big speakers, and a captive audience. Despite this, I think it’s nearly a masterpiece. Bradley Cooper has made very interesting choices over the last decade and Maestro serves as his moment of full auteurship. It’s an incredible film.

Maestro is streaming on Netflix.