TÁR, 2022.
Written and Directed by Todd Field.
Starring Cate Blanchett, Nina Hoss, Noémie Merlant, Mark Strong, Julian Glover, Allan Corduner, Sophie Kauer, Sylvia Flote, Vincent Riotta, Sam Douglas, Lucie Pohl, Vivian Full, Lee Sellars, Ed White, Jessica Hansen, Diana Birenytė, Dorothea Plans Casal, Fabian Dirr, Jan Wolf, Peter Hering, Artjom Gilz, Marie-Lou Sellem, Marie-Anne Fliegel, Jasmine Leung, Chalee Sricharoen, Lydia Schamschula, Tilla Kratochwil, Adam Gopnik, and Alec Baldwin.
SYNOPSIS:
Set in the international world of Western classical music, the film centers on Lydia Tár, widely considered one of the greatest living composer-conductors and first-ever female music director of a major German orchestra.
Writer/director Todd Field hasn’t made a film since 2006. It’s not unusual for filmmakers to take hiatuses, but the world has drastically changed in that time, perhaps to the degree that Todd Field was bursting at the seams to get back in the game with TÁR; a cinematic stick of dynamite dropped on the complexities of fame, power, social media, cancel culture, and narcissistic arrogance. He’s also not concerned with providing answers but rather a window into how modern society engages with these movements, sometimes justified and sometimes manipulated.
The approach to such observations is by way of an extraordinary character study centered on fictional world-famous Maestra Lydia Tár embodied by Cate Blanchett, living in this role to uncomfortably transfixing lengths, with every movement, gesture, expression, and intonation methodically precise. It’s an enrapturing performance; a Tár de force, if you will.
Puns aside, TÁR begins with the eponymous conductor in an extended conversation with the New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik, Fielding several questions chronicling her celebrated rise to stardom (she’s an EGOT), an upcoming book release, and promoting work on a future live performance of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. Her responses are so well-spoken and measured that it’s almost impossible to imagine her life unraveling. Even if her life didn’t tailspin into a downward spiral, Cate Blanchett delivers dialogue with such a commanding screen presence that I probably could have watched two hours and 38 minutes of this fictional character discussing her career.
Once a general picture is established of Lydia Tár, Todd Field is free to explore and expand, bringing in colleagues and mentors to further discuss art philosophies, all while ordering around her overworked assistant Francesca (Noémie Merlant), who also has conducting aspirations. Towering above these exchanges is a sequence involving a Juilliard lecture, where Lydia becomes confrontational with a male student over Bach’s problematic life and whether or not that means his work should live on and still be studied and performed.
It’s also one of many moments where Lydia escalates in controversy as a person; she comes off reasonably understanding about the unfair road women have had to trek to get the career opportunities that they have today (especially in the realm of conducting), but is quick to dismiss questionable behavior from past legends. There’s hypocrisy to her words and actions that greater crystallizes over time, but it’s also admirable that she is so in her element and dedicated to her craft that nothing else matters.
Throughout this affair, which is hypnotically shot as an unbroken scene by Florian Hoffmeister without drawing attention to the fact, the student’s leg violently shakes as if he is face-to-face with a demon. Lydia relishes the power to take him down a notch, although as cruel as she may seem, it’s hard to ignore her points and not see the student as a closeminded doofus with a brain turned to mush by social media.
Elsewhere, Lydia is on a power trip scheming to push others out of her inner circle. Again, it is intoxicating watching Cate Blanchett steamroll over everyone simply because she can. As a result, you practically feel your heart breaking from Francesca being given hope regarding future opportunities, knowing that Lydia has no intentions of following through.
Nearly everyone around Cate Blanchett is giving a reactionary performance (what else can they do considering Lydia’s intimidating boss status running rampant and unchecked), but Noémie Merlant is brilliantly nuanced in her feelings and subtle behavior that flips the film upside down.
Lydia owns an expensive flat with her partner Sharon (a tremendous turn from Nina Hoss) and their adopted daughter Petra (Mila Bogojevic). The child is sometimes bullied at school, prompting a terrifyingly unhinged threat from Lydia, drunk on power. She genuinely believes that her world will never come crashing down, which is foolish considering she starts ogling and becomes seemingly inappropriately invested in one of her cellists, Olga (Sophie Kauer). There’s also a former player desperately trying to contact Lydia by sending an assortment of mentally unwell emails to Francesca, giving the impression that this behavior is routine for the conductor.
And once the downward spiral begins, Cate Blanchett comes undone in remarkable fashion. If part of a successful conducting performance involves evoking the feeling of stopping time, Cate Blanchett nails the acting equivalent of that feat. The transformation from where this character begins and ends is so startling and precisely harrowing I couldn’t help wishing I could watch the movie again the second ended, 160 minutes and all. That’s how much there is to take in and uncover while letting the first viewing overwhelm the senses.
There is sympathy for every character in her orbit, but a gravitational pull makes Lydia unflinchingly immersing despite the appalling way she treats others and the accusations that rise to the surface. All of this, and I haven’t even mentioned the phenomenal symphony sequences, braced by astonishing music from Joker‘s Oscar-winning composer Hildur Guðnadóttir.
Even the few and far-between aspects of TÁR that feel a bit random lead to unforgettable scenes, sometimes involving dark comedy. There are many movies of the moment, but few are as fearlessly provocative as TÁR. We are Cate Blanchett’s orchestra, and her hold over us is infinite.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
