Movies for Breakfast TÁR Review

Cate Blanchett gives her level-best in a challenging, dense portrait of a woman’s fall from grace in Todd Field’s Tár.

Synopsis

Renowned musician Lydia Tár is days away from recording the symphony that will elevate her career. When all elements seem to conspire against her, Lydia’s adopted daughter Petra becomes an integral emotional support for her struggling mother.

Review
Tár is a simple tale of a revered composer-conductor’s fall from grace. A plot one would see as mundane if looking up the film’s synopsis from a distance. But not so mundane or out-of-touch for its elusive director Todd Field. With only three feature-length films to his name as a director (a sixteen-year gap between this film and his last – 2006’s “Little Children”), the winding, tense, tale of a woman’s meticulous self-destruction couldn’t be anything but par the course for the filmmaker. An elderly couple deals equally with grief for their son’s murder and anger at their son’s killer walking among them. A story of a man and woman beginning an intense affair – tired of their mundane, boring lives – is juxtaposed with the story of a recently released sex offender dealing with cruel adjustment and prejudice. Field has a way of taking these characters – a revered composer, a grieving couple, a cheating couple – their circumstances of woe and fleshing them out into a detailed portrait. By the time Tár ends, we’re not just more acquainted with who Lydia is as a person, we know her inside and out, we know who she is, how she is and we know all too well how she inevitably lost her way.

Tár follow its eponymous character, Lydia Tár, as she prepares for her upcoming performance of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5. As she participates in a live sitdown with The New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik, we get a glimpse into Lydia’s character – she is poised, takes her work (and herself) seriously and knows and understands the craft that comes with her position as conductor (“Time is the thing…you cannot start without me”, she tells Gopnik). In the same sequence, while we see Lydia at her highest in the front of the stage, flaunting her musical knowledge and understanding, we also get a glimpse of her personal kryptonite. There are two or so shots of this whole sequence being filmed from the back of a young woman’s head, set front-and-center of the screen. This is our protagonist’s kryptonite in her mission of perfection – an attractive young woman. Her personal assistant Francesca (Noémie Merlant, great) knows this and tries to keep her employer on-task and focused. This includes trying to warn and guard Lydia of the sins of her past Fellowship Program, come to form in a former student – Krista Taylor – who is increasingly becoming more of a problem, sending Francesca multiple emails asking her to get Lydia to call and speak with her. It is of course implied that there was an inappropriate relationship between Tár and this woman. This is where Field works his magic by peeling back the layers on our protagonist as she prepares for her big symphony and also reminds us of the harsh truth about “time” – it humbles us all.

While prepping and preparing for her big gig, we also get a glimpse of Lydia’s home life with her wife and concertmaster Sharon Goodnow (Nina Hoss, terrific, especially in her tense scenes with Blanchett) and their adopted daughter Petra. We see a different side of Lydia, a bit less poised, more relaxed and more caring. But something is still…off. Lydia has haunting dreams and strange hallucinations (while jogging or going about her day, she periodically hears a woman screaming off in the distance). She’s trying to finish writing her new musical piece and can’t get past the first few notes. She keeps hearing faint noises, walking around her apartment as if she’s searching for something – closure? Resolve? Remembrance or oblivion? On top of this, there is a young, pretty hopeful in her orchestra, Olga (real-life cellist Sophie Kauer, great in her debut performance) that takes some of Lydia’s attention as she preps and trains her orchestra. Francesca and Sharon know all too well what is happening and what could happen with Olga –she could become kryptonite.

There is a sequence in this film in which Lydia debates with a student on identity politics and not letting personal feelings about another artist’s indiscretions get in the way of art. In other words, separate the art from the artist. Is such a thing possible? Is it even more possible in the age of “cancel culture?” The film gives multiple answers to this question while also asking the audience some in turn. As Lydia’s world inevitably crashes around her, Field asks the audience if this fall from grace is fair. Has Lydia misbehaved? Yes. Has she done some horrible things? Depending on who you ask, yes. Is she an irredeemable monster? That question is not so easy to answer, neither has it been for multiple people who have been cancelled or exiled in any industry for inappropriate, power-abusing actions. By the film’s end, we see Lydia is a totally different space from when the film began. Is she humbled? Defeated? Changed? It’s up to our interpretation of which is correct or if it’s all of the above. One thing she is, and wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for the strength of Blanchett’s performance and Field’s writing, is that she’s human.

It’s an understatement to say this is one of Cate Blanchett’s best performances. She carries this film with gusto, slowly building on the intensity of her character’s slow-crashing world. She waves her arms in her conductor sessions more and more violently, session by session; becomes more and more haunted by the voices she’s hearing (sins calling from the past?); and carries a level of slight terrifying intrigue to her character’s mystique. One scene to note – Lydia confronts her daughter’s tormentor at school, telling the little girl if she hears about her daughter being bullied again, she will “get her.” It’s a tense sequence played off for comedy and slight terror, as at this point, the audience doesn’t quite know what this woman is capable of nor what she truly means by “getting” the child. This terrific performance is equally matched by the controlled direction and meticulous script of Todd Field. Again, it is an understatement to say this man’s place in cinema has been sorely missed. Field has a true knack for organically taking a character’s life and slowly unraveling it in ways that both shock and change its characters as well as its audience. As I stated before, Field brings a meaningful discussion of cancel culture to the table and asks its audience if an irresponsible, powerful person’s fall from grace is fair, if it’s fitting, is it’s necessary then finally asks – is it enough? A lingering question that I am still trying to answer as I write this article.

Closing Thoughts

Tár is a challenging film that tells a simple story of falling from grace in a dense, complex way. Director Field leaves many threads to be unwound in multiple viewings and studies of his tragic lead character. The sympatico relationship between Field and Blanchett is what makes Tár a strong contender for best film of the year. It’s a film that rewards its audience for their patience and attention, slowly becoming accessible to even the most anti-“classical music” filmgoer.

Trailer