"Maestro" immediately reminds me of two comparable stories, in a movie and a TV series. All three feature a loving couple, both prominent performing artists, walking a rocky path. "Prominent" is in different degrees. In "Walk the line" (2005) while Johnny Cash is a household name, June Carter is not far behind. Some of her fans, not surprisingly, would put her ahead of her husband. In "Fosse/Verdon" (2019), the couple is given equal weight in the title of the TV series. While Bob Fosse is better known, it was Michelle Williams who plays Gwen Verdon that won two esteemed awards.
The "celebrity gap" between Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) and Felicity Montealegre (Carey Muligan) is considerably wider. While Bernstein is a towering icon, Felicity (I intentionally forego is not exactly a Montealegre household name, although she is an accomplished stage actress. The movie does not overly dramatize this discrepancy. It might even be seen as two separate stories, one about Bernstein's huge success, and the other about the rocky path the couple tread through their life together.
The love story (as the rest of the movie) starts in black-and-white and ends with color, with matching aspect rations synchronizing with those used at the actual time of the story. The initial romantic "clicking" is breath-taking. She takes him to an empty theatre, with just one spot light shining directly at the movie audience. Then we see from different angles a scene of Felicity trying to have Leonardo rehearse some lines with her. Romantic dialogue, those are, at the height of which they kiss. The lights in the theatre are suddenly all switched on, followed by an apologetic stage hand saying that he is leaving and leaving them alone.
The fairy-tale romance gradually fades, but the movie does not really put the blame on her being in his shadow (in one scene, literally). Well, maybe a little, but not as much as you might expect. The real problem is that he is rather reckless with his extramarital pursuits, with both sexes, in fact. In one scene, he quips to a baby, "I had sex with both of your parents". The baby of course doesn't understand a thing and the parents don't seem to mind at all.
But in the end, when she is inflicted with terminal cancer, he stays by her side to the end. It starts with a scene in which the doctor explains to the couple their predicament in nerve-wrecking minute clinical details. She understandably is devastated while he becomes the steely shoulder carrying her along to the bitter end. This is the most difficult part of the movie to watch, not the least of which because of Mulligan's heart-wrenching performance.
The success story takes on a different rhythm. Without much ado, the opening of the movie plunges directly into a phone call inviting Bernstein to fill in at the New York Philharmonic for tonight's conductor who is down with sudden ailment. The rest is history, as marked by a review likening the successful debut to "right next to Hitler bombing Poland".
In an interview later in his career, he intimates that while he is composer, conductor, moviemaker, teacher and maybe many more, it can all be crystalized into one thing: his love of music. Whenever he is doing music, he is happy (and excels, one may add). When asked about the difference between a composer and a performer, he has some insightful views: they are just the opposite, one extrovert, the other introvert. He sometimes feels that he is schizophrenic.
The pinnacle of "Maestro" is the re-creation the finale 7 minutes of Bernstein's conducting the London Symphony Orchestra's performance of Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony No. 2, at Ely Cathedral in 1973. For a brief moment I was tempted to describe the scene here, but wisely decided against it. What I would like to describe is this. Only after the electrifying movement of the baton finally come to an end, the penning camera moves to bring Felicity into view, her face radiant with joy. He approaches her briskly and kisses her passionately, and she murmurs in his ears "There is no hate. There is no hate in your heart." Cooper took years of extensive conducting coaching for this project and re-created an amazing Bernstein on screen. Elaborate prosthetics also helps. Mulligan is a natural, in whatever she portrays. In this movie, she convincingly radiates charm in her youth, as well as heart-breaking vulnerability in her final year, in equal measures.
While there is a good-size supporting cast, I'll only mention Maya Hawke who plays the couple's daughter, a relatively minor role. She may not be that well-known, except to fans of "Stranger Things", delighting them with her brilliantly constructed comic persona. More worth noting, of course, is her parentage, Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman. I did not notice it watching "Stranger Things" but in "Maestro" her resemblance to her mother is very noticeable.
The "celebrity gap" between Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) and Felicity Montealegre (Carey Muligan) is considerably wider. While Bernstein is a towering icon, Felicity (I intentionally forego is not exactly a Montealegre household name, although she is an accomplished stage actress. The movie does not overly dramatize this discrepancy. It might even be seen as two separate stories, one about Bernstein's huge success, and the other about the rocky path the couple tread through their life together.
The love story (as the rest of the movie) starts in black-and-white and ends with color, with matching aspect rations synchronizing with those used at the actual time of the story. The initial romantic "clicking" is breath-taking. She takes him to an empty theatre, with just one spot light shining directly at the movie audience. Then we see from different angles a scene of Felicity trying to have Leonardo rehearse some lines with her. Romantic dialogue, those are, at the height of which they kiss. The lights in the theatre are suddenly all switched on, followed by an apologetic stage hand saying that he is leaving and leaving them alone.
The fairy-tale romance gradually fades, but the movie does not really put the blame on her being in his shadow (in one scene, literally). Well, maybe a little, but not as much as you might expect. The real problem is that he is rather reckless with his extramarital pursuits, with both sexes, in fact. In one scene, he quips to a baby, "I had sex with both of your parents". The baby of course doesn't understand a thing and the parents don't seem to mind at all.
But in the end, when she is inflicted with terminal cancer, he stays by her side to the end. It starts with a scene in which the doctor explains to the couple their predicament in nerve-wrecking minute clinical details. She understandably is devastated while he becomes the steely shoulder carrying her along to the bitter end. This is the most difficult part of the movie to watch, not the least of which because of Mulligan's heart-wrenching performance.
The success story takes on a different rhythm. Without much ado, the opening of the movie plunges directly into a phone call inviting Bernstein to fill in at the New York Philharmonic for tonight's conductor who is down with sudden ailment. The rest is history, as marked by a review likening the successful debut to "right next to Hitler bombing Poland".
In an interview later in his career, he intimates that while he is composer, conductor, moviemaker, teacher and maybe many more, it can all be crystalized into one thing: his love of music. Whenever he is doing music, he is happy (and excels, one may add). When asked about the difference between a composer and a performer, he has some insightful views: they are just the opposite, one extrovert, the other introvert. He sometimes feels that he is schizophrenic.
The pinnacle of "Maestro" is the re-creation the finale 7 minutes of Bernstein's conducting the London Symphony Orchestra's performance of Mahler's "Resurrection" Symphony No. 2, at Ely Cathedral in 1973. For a brief moment I was tempted to describe the scene here, but wisely decided against it. What I would like to describe is this. Only after the electrifying movement of the baton finally come to an end, the penning camera moves to bring Felicity into view, her face radiant with joy. He approaches her briskly and kisses her passionately, and she murmurs in his ears "There is no hate. There is no hate in your heart." Cooper took years of extensive conducting coaching for this project and re-created an amazing Bernstein on screen. Elaborate prosthetics also helps. Mulligan is a natural, in whatever she portrays. In this movie, she convincingly radiates charm in her youth, as well as heart-breaking vulnerability in her final year, in equal measures.
While there is a good-size supporting cast, I'll only mention Maya Hawke who plays the couple's daughter, a relatively minor role. She may not be that well-known, except to fans of "Stranger Things", delighting them with her brilliantly constructed comic persona. More worth noting, of course, is her parentage, Ethan Hawke and Uma Thurman. I did not notice it watching "Stranger Things" but in "Maestro" her resemblance to her mother is very noticeable.