Tár

Tár (2022) directed by Todd Field

Plot:

Lydia Tár is a world-renowned conductor, a protege of Leonard Bernstein. The film follows her through typical events in her life, starting with a lengthy interview in front of a live audience with New Yorker reporter Adam Gopnik (playing himself), and continuing with teaching a master class at Juilliard, rehearsals with the Berlin Philharmonic in preparation for a live recording of Mahler's Fifth, and a book signing of her latest book. Her domestic life consists of her son and a long-time relationship with the (female) concertmaster. When she takes an interest in a young cellist who has just joined the orchestra, her life begins to fall apart. Another musician with whom she may have had an affair has committed suicide after accusing her of ruining her career. Innuendos and rumors cause her to lose her position and possibly destroy her career.

Commentary:

This is an astounding movie. It gets all the details right about the world of classical music, focusing on the day to day grind of a superstar conductors life: giving interviews, preparing scores, dealing with management, hiring and firing of personnel, etc. In fact, the film spends little time with Lydia in performance. The film spends lots of time showing Lydia in rehearsals, but we only see her in front of a live audience at the end when she is reduced to conducting an orchestra to accompany a live screening of a video game.

The film's pattern is marked by these reversals, starting with the decision to begin the film with the end credits. The most obvious reversal is having the lead character be a woman. In the real world of classical music female conductors are rare. The plot could have been the same with a male conductor who is accused of preying on young female musicians. But if it had, most viewers would have been immediately suspicious of his behavior and would have had little sympathy for him in his downfall. By reversing the roles, Field creates an important ambiguity. It is not at all clear that Lydia is a predator. From her partner's reaction, we can infer that she has had other affairs in the past, but to what extent these affairs were consensual is never resolved. Apparently, some are accusing this film of taking the side of the predator, of being an anti-Me-Too movement screed. But the lack of certainty is far more interesting than it would have been as either a straightforward condemnation or a full-throated vindication.

The film takes a number of creative risks. The film needs to establish first Lydia's credentials. The most obvious way to do this is by starting with her conducting. It does show her backstage, but instead of entering to conduct, she enters to give a sit-down interview in front of a live audience. Surely that also establishes her bonafides, but starting the film with a lot of high-falutin philosophical talk about music risks alienating an audience who doesn't even know who this apparent celebrity is. But Field's dialogue is so believable that one is immediately drawn to this character. Who is she? How has she come to reach the pinnacle of her profession, against all odds?

Field's direction is impeccable. He uses many long takes with complicated blocking of the characters. I was especially impressed with the scene of the master class which subtly builds the tension between Lydia and one of the students. The long, unbroken takes are also important because the footage is later seen in a deceptively re-edited version that takes her comments out of context.

All the performances are wonderful, but especially Cate Blanchett who has the difficult task of actually looking like she is conducting. (In fact, the film credits her as conductor and pianist for her scenes.) So many films have actors waving their hands around meaninglessly. Blanchett will surely get an Oscar nomination.