No two people feels the exact same way about any film. Thus, Team Experience is pairing up to debate the merits of each of the awards movies this year. Here’s Chris James and Cláudio Alves on TÁR.
CHRIS: It’s no mistake that people mistook Lydia Tár for being a real person. There’s something authentic and substantiated about TÁR, Todd Field’s third film which centers around a complicated famed conductor. Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) doesn’t necessarily have delusions of grandeur, she simply has an inability to see anything below her ivory pedestal. As much as Field and Blanchett have a laser focused idea of this character, the movie never spoon feeds us the narrative. We enter her journey in media res, trying to piece together her home life, her work life and whether the visions in her head are delusions or real threats. It’s a refreshing and engrossing way of telling this woman’s story the way she would want it told, while leaving ample room for interpretation and opinion.
I could go on and on about my favorite movie of the year, as one often does. However, tell me Cláudio, why don't you love TÁR? What elements give you pause?
CLÁUDIO: To point out one's reservations about a colleague's favorite film of the year feels slightly gauche, if not outright mean, but that's the foremost idea of this series, so I should get over it. Moreover, I'm sure Todd Field would appreciate knowing his work caused split reactions. Of all 2022 releases, TÁR often feels like the one most carefully created to provoke its audience and lead it down divergent reactive paths. So much so that, at times, one wonders if the filmmakers know what they're trying to say, or avoid saying, about their protagonist. Do they achieve that maximum ambiguity consistently? I'm not sure. Moments like the tearful reaction near the end feel too forceful in their demand for sympathy, accidentally creating cracks all over the buttresses holding up the picture's nebulous idea of itself.
The attempt at unknowability is valuable, even if it fails. Moreover, I found that these efforts make TÁR the perfect example of a conversation starter in film form. It's something that I instantly value, no matter how many missteps it might commit while getting us to that point.
Indeed, to honor these conversationalist aims, I should probably answer your questions more promptly. To avoid laying out all my misgivings at once, let's start with one specific gripe: Why is this story set specifically within the music world? I find no evidence in the film that its creators fully explored their milieu, concluding that the same narrative beats could have been adapted to other artistic environments without losing anything vital. Cate Blanchett's real-life work makes one's mind wander to a TÁR set within the theater world, focused on the work with actors. I must assume Field and his leading lady would have more valuable insight into that environment, its particularities. To further that point, consider the use of Mahler's 5th, which feels underexplored, an affectation devoid of payoff beyond the most obvious movements.
CHRIS: Do not worry, Cláudio. There's no such thing as a perfect movie, so poke holes away. If I have to admit a fault in my beloved, there are some elements of the final act I take issue with. Yes, I applaud the final shot. To sublimate oneself with art means to become invisible as a person behind the work. It's incredibly tongue-in-cheek that she's gone from the greatest halls to a fandom convention, where IP is the star, not her. However, it's established earlier on that she can't write her own work, she merely conducts others. What I take issue with is the hints of remorse, namely vomiting outside of the massage parlor. It's not that the character can't possess any introspection. Instead, like the tear, that reaction doesn't quite square up with the persona that has been so effectively built up (and torn down) throughout the movie.
Once again, I must check myself since I am hardly a classical music scholar. I think your suggestion that the theater industry be the star is interesting. Personally, I feel like we have seen the tale of an actress with a God complex so many times over, that it would feel less novel. It's Margot Channing constantly in fear of meeting her Eve Harrington. What I love about her being a conductor is the way the job exposes the ways she is brilliant and limited. As a maestro, she gets to be the star of the show without being the person actually writing the piece or playing the instruments that produce the music. She's a conduit. That's why the reveal of her returning to Leonard Bernstein VHS' is so beautiful. She was never his muse, she was a mimic (confirmed by Todd Field). The specific ways where she's talented and overrated are dramatized really well in the musical world. Had theater, film or TV been explored, I worry we could be heading to naval-gazing territory. Dare we get another love letter to cinema?
Speaking of the world of music, I loved the rich cast of characters the movie builds out, even if it feels like the Cate Blanchett show. Nina Hoss takes what could've been a stock wife role and gives her so much agency. Her reaction shots are one of the few things that help us track what is reality and what are Lydia's delusions. Similarly, Noémie Merlant succeeds at bringing more depth to Francesca, Lydia's assistant. Watching her face barely break when Lydia informs Francesca that she will not be Lydia's assistant conductor belies Francesca's true motivations. She supports Lydia only as much as it furthers her own goals. In some ways, Francesca has prepared for this disappointment and is more than ready to hatch her plan B, exposing Lydia's secrets.
CLÁUDIO: You may misunderstand my theatre suggestion. My idea would have been for Cate Blanchett to play a director in sinister reflection of her own work with the Sidney Theater Company. Though many pictures about theater obsess over performers and playwrights, they seldom consider those whose words aren't spoken aloud or get a chance to bask in the audience's gaze. I think you could achieve much of the same dynamic you have in this film if you switched Tár's role this way, maintaining that sense of limitation, the frustrations of being a conduit, a star... yet not a star. It would've certainly made the entire film less distant, more uncomfortable to experience in proximity to its makers – navel-gazing made painful for all involved.
Then again, one shouldn't lose time in the land of 'what if,' dreaming up a film rather than considering the one in existence.
Going back to the actual TÁR, I agree with your assessment that the suggested remorse of those final passages is at odds with the character shown thus far. So is the nebulosity of the setting, suddenly unspecified after hours carefully delineating the maestro's zig-zagging path between Berlin, New York, and New Jersey at long last. But that's another matter altogether. As much as I admire Blanchett, I can't say she solves that remorse conundrum in Field's script. However, since I firmly believe the text – as experienced through watching the film – is the project's Achilles' Heel, I won't blame the actress. But, of course, that doesn't mean I love her performance as much others did.
While feeling half of TFE's readership calling out my "blasphemy!", I must confess to never feeling surprised by any of the actress' choices in TÁR. There's dazzlement aplenty, a showcase for everything Blanchett does best, and a lot of fun to be had with the artist formerly known as Linda Tarr. Even so, it comes off as a collection of showy feats taken from a well-oiled repertoire, surfaces juxtaposed in palimpsestic fashion, faking an interiority rather than embodying such invisible worlds. Like Blue Jasmine, it wouldn't rate among my favorite Blanchett turns. That's another picture so tailor-made for the thespian that it half-sabotages the star at its center – a vexing paradox!
In any case, I'll heartily applaud when they play "Apartment for Sale" as Blanchett's Oscar clip (an unforgivable Original Song snub), but remain unconvinced this is the towering achievement of her career. I am much more impressed by Hoss and, to a lesser extent, Merlant for the very reasons you so beautifully articulate. Shout out to Sophie Kauer, whose gaze often juggles our understanding of Olga's awareness, and much love to Allan Corduner, who aces his big scene in a doozy of apoplectic outrage.
CHRIS: Now comes the time to stand up for Petra's Father himself, Cate Blanchett. I found myself frequently surprised by the choices she made. The opening interview gives us the perfect introduction to Lydia, she's a self aggrandizing blowhard. This is only further proven by her Julliard rant. It's very typical of Blanchett that she really says every word with purpose, making us feel the thought behind every overlong adjective. However, I loved the way Blanchett almost makes Lydia the butt of the joke, while never betraying the core foundations of her character. Nothing is more serious to her than her art.
We mentioned the "Apartment for Sale" scene (agreed that it should be Oscar nominated) but a moment right before that scene remains burned in my brain. I loved her reaction towards her neighbor's family telling her that her music is too loud. She nails this look of incredulity. How could someone not be amazed by her? As the movie goes on and things crumble around Lydia, I remain surprised at how Blanchett keeps Lydia's walls up. There's only a few moments of release, all that seem sudden and surprising. Even though it was teased in the trailer, I was taken aback by the way her face moves as she attacks her replacement conductor. Yes, the movie is tailor made for her, but I think it allows her space to push her strengths to a new level.
Let's turn our attention to the craft of the film. After all, the film begins with the credits, a fun choice for a movie about a woman who sees herself above her collaborators. It's pretty easy to highlight Hildur Guðnadóttir's score. A movie about the music world needs to have a top notch score, and Guðnadóttir really sells the feeling of unrest in Lydia's home, particularly. It's beautiful and haunting. I'm also just struck by Florian Hoffmeister's thoughtful cinematography. Lydia's grandeur really shines through his lensing of her. He also spotlights the fantastically grand, yet empty, concert halls throughout the film, made perfect by production designer Marco Bittner Rosser.
Were there any craft elements that stood out to you, Cláudio, either good or bad?
CLÁUDIO: Rosser's production design is a standout, for sure, as is Monika Willi's sharp cutting. They're the picture's MVPs and should receive all the accolades currently thrown at its script. The spaces are brilliant, as you mention, and I was particularly taken by their delineations of sterile modernity versus the mess of decay. The contrast between the gleaming surfaces of the high art world and the urbane rot Lydia finds herself in when pursuing Olga is majestic. It further amplifies one of my favorite bits of characterization through form – Tár, the person and the film, is all about the inability to surrender control. In all its lugubrious chaos, death is the biggest nightmare of all for what it represents and presents as, be it an off-screen consequence of abuse or a neighbor's body giving up the ghost before our eyes.
When the rest of the cinematic edifice forgets about music and Mahler, Willi's playful rhythmic shifts keep the notion of a varying symphony on the forefront of our mind. She juxtaposes the first half's distended takes with the storming shatters of Tár's downfall, as if the fabric of perceived reality is slipping away from her grasp and fundamentally expressed in timing. Notice how the take's medium length grows erratic, almost feral after the rigorous majesty of yore. This works well with the precise camerawork, where a matter as superficially simple as Blanchett's nearness to the shot's center axis becomes the basis for entire passages.
Hell, the (in)famous speech against the Juilliard student is, above all else, a game of personal control by proxy of the camera's gaze. The lack of cut is a sustained breath driving down a path of asphyxia, while the young man's jumping leg marks a vertical disruption to Tár's horizontal tracking. Does the later cancellation-inducing video denounce Field's shallow understanding of the culture he's analyzing? Maybe. But by God, it's worth it to get that fabulous demonstration of formal finesse.
CHRIS: Well it looks like we are wrapping it up with some TÁR compliments. As Lydia Tár never said, quit while you're ahead. It has been a pleasure discussing TÁR with you, Cláudio. I really enjoyed what you had to say, particularly on the war between sterile modernity and messy decay. Also, thank you for mentioning the "cancellable" Juilliard monologue. Watching that scene, the audience really feels like another member of the class, nervously taking in Lydia's dressing down of one of our own. It's funny to see that powerful scene called back in a TikTok, one of the straws that breaks the camel's back in terms of the public's perception of Lydia. The power, menace and shock comes from the relentnesses and pauses. Put into snackable bites, this EGOT ego-case is just another piece of fodder one can laugh at or discard.
If anything, this conversation has been a reminder as to why we need more films like TÁR. Having a prickly, yet engaging film with built-in contradictions can lead to great conversations. I'm happy we are leaving off while talking about the craft of the film, as the film is unfairly branded as The Cate Blanchett Show. She and Todd Field are the film's maestros, but every craft element fills out the orchestra to produce such a purely cinematic character study.
Any final thoughts on the film?
CLÁUDIO: My final thought is that TÁR is a comedy and would have worked better if it had leaned into that tone. I'm sure anyone who remembers the write-up where I once argued that The Seventh Seal is a comedy must be rolling their eyes, but, I'm being completely serious. Few things made me laugh harder in 2022 than the sound effect as Lydia plummets to the ground face first or the sight of an unhinged Blanchett with an accordion in hand. I may quibble with the picture's quality, its putative depth, but can't deny it's a piece of phenomenal entertainment, prickly and funny, eminently worthy of discussion even if you think it doesn't work.
Thank you so much for indulging my resistance in praising your favorite. Discussing this film with such an incisive defender of its merits was a blast. If and when TÁR nabs a slew of Oscar nominations, perchance a win or two, I'll be happy for it, knowing it'll delight you and other great writers whose opinions I respect regardless of our disagreement.
CHRIS: Thank you so much, Cláudio. About Tár as a comedy... it does feature some of the biggest laughs I had in theaters this year. Really appreciated our conversation on the film!
What side of the debate do you fall on for TÁR? Keep the conversation going in the comments.
- All Quiet on the Western Front - poetic or vacuous?
- Babylon - thrilling or interminable?
- Everything Everywhere All At Once - essential or exhausting?
- The Fabelmans - joyous or phony?
- Triangle of Sadness - facile or multi-faceted?
- The Whale - moving or just plain bad?