Maestro, Bradley Cooper’s much anticipated biopic about Leonard Bernstein, is a jaunty exploration into the composer’s life, bursting with energy and showcasing Cooper’s potential as an influential director in Hollywood. Generally, Cooper does well to put his stamp on the film and play with various stylistic decisions, like imbuing the opening sequences with Old Hollywood glamour. A particularly wonderful dance sequence in the first act is, in my (perhaps controversial) opinion, the most effective scene of the film.
The score is beautiful, though maybe I was ill-equipped to recognise the Bernstein works that were chosen, and their intention in the film beyond the atmosphere they evoked. Any exploration into the context of their original appearances throughout the composer’s life may have strengthened this, though I appreciate that the movie diverges from the typical biopic format of ‘life event’ followed by ‘resulting art’ followed by ‘life event’ followed by ‘resulting art’. That said, there are only a handful of scenes that explore his power as a composer, one of which was stunningly shot and performed, but shortchanged with a rather underwhelming final line.
Cooper really does try to embody Bernstein, taking care over his accent and body language, but in total the performance feels forced, as though he had to wrangle these mannerisms into submission. His performance is not helped by its close proximity to Carey Mulligan’s beautiful portrayal of Bernstein’s wife, Felicia Montealegre. Mulligan, as she often does, steals the show. She is incredibly winning, even as Felicia becomes increasingly disenchanted with her life. She is the true heart of the story, and this is ultimately where the film struggles.
The film finds itself in a position where it has to justify why a film about Leonard Bernstein is, in fact, about his wife, and lands on an exploration of how he didn’t appreciate his wife or recognise how she suppressed her own artistic ambition and talent in support of his genius. Even then, it seems enough that Bernstein simply acknowledges this sacrifice, as Felicia seems to finally decide she is satisfied with being that person for her husband. Bernstein’s character develops surprisingly little through the duration of the film, and, in the end, Bernstein reads as a somewhat sad and almost pathetic character, a portrayal which I feel does disservice to his art. There is little focus on how or why his work is so revered, and instead we follow a rather confusing through-line of the composer’s life.
Overall, I am looking forward to what Cooper will do next, but hope that in his future endeavours he doesn’t try to bite off more than he can chew. With a more mindful and reserved editorial eye, Cooper will be a force to be reckoned with in the directorial space.
Reel Talk 