There’s a lot of ground in the exploration of the lines between genius, madness, control, love and abuse, and Todd Field‘s new film Tár seeks to explore it from within and outwith; throughout a film that at times feels more like a biopic than a fictional account.
Tár tells the story of fictional musical maestro, and celebrated Chief Conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra, Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett). The story finds Tár during the early rehearsals for her magnum opus, the completion of a decade-long project to record all of Mahler‘s symphonies under her baton. While she’s balancing the obsessive demands of that job and promoting her upcoming book, she’s also trying to maintain a strained relationship with her wife and daughter. Looming over all of this is the lingering spectre of an ex-fellow of the Orchestra who has become obsessed with Tár, and the relationship between the pair may not have been entirely above board. Throw into the mix a new talented, and attractive young Russian cellist who catches Tár’s eye, and various disputes with staff, friends, and the creeping sensation of being watched, and the ingredients are all there for a chilling psycho-drama.
Tár is in many ways an exceptional film. It’s crisply and immaculately shot by cinematographer Florian Hoffmeister, casting the impenetrable inner-world of musical excellence in alternating shades of wood and concrete. There’s also a level of technical excellence in several one-shot scenes that defy explanation as the camera weaves around rooms, rising and falling inexplicably as we follow Tár in full sonorous charge. Similarly there is, as you’d expect, a focus on the sound and music in this film that can barrage with thrumming strings and brass charges through Hildur Guðnadóttir‘s score, then stilling to whispers of random diegetic sounds or tones about which Tár becomes distracted or curious.
It goes without saying that this film is an absolute tour de force performance from Blanchett. Her encompassing and relentless creation of Lydia Tár is a genuinely fascinating thing to experience. It’s also a clear indication that Field has a strong grip on characters and inter-character work, as suggested by his previous film 2006’s Little Children. There’s also sterling support from Mark Strong, Nina Hoss, Noémie Merlant and Julian Glover, who each round out a little facet of Tár’s world, and often strive against her wilful bullishness.
But ultimately this film is all about Lydia Tár, and it’s a challenge that is wholly met. It’s no less than you’d expect from one of the most accomplished actors of her generation, but while Blanchett never gives less than 100%, the film’s script and editing doesn’t entirely live up to that performance.
It’s not that the story is in any way bad, far from it. But rather, Field’s script is relentless in both its use of realistic orchestral lingo that will be utterly incomprehensible to some, and in some of the curious editorial choices. The dialogue itself works for the most part, as contextually even the more obscure references, or terminology play into the scenes rather than against them. There’s also a theatrical grandstanding quality to much of it, which fits the character, but gives some moments a beans and chips David Mamet feel, that comes across as contrived rather than earned. There is some smart and timely leanings into #MeToo and some small exploration of modern cultural politics rubbing up hard against the weight of the classical music world but as with much of the film’s ideas, seems to fade away and be forgotten.
But the film’s real flaw is that it is frankly far too long, and often with the length in the wrong places. It puts in mind the famous and possibly apocryphal story about Andrei Tarkovsky cutting the first 10 minutes of Solaris to be, “intentionally boring to make stupid people leave the cinema.” Similarly, Tár opens to a similarly long scene of Tár being interviewed by a journalist at the New Yorker Festival, which fills in a myriad of blanks in a clever expositional interview that allows the story to progress unhindered afterwards. However the film still takes great pains to meander and trudge, right up until the last act, when it starts shortcutting and leaving out key scenes, hinting at their content rather than playing them out. It’s a frustrating choice and leaves a lingering sense of irritation rather than completion at the end of such a long and arduous journey.
On the plus side, it’s clear that Blanchett will gain some new accolades and trophies for her shelf off the back of this performance. It’s simply not quite the grand event that it thinks it is.
On General Release in Cinemas Nationwide