OSCARS 2024: Maestro (2023)

What's your opinion about Bradley Cooper? I can't say I felt too passionately about him one way or another until recently. He started out as a fairly bland leading man type, in forgettable flicks like “The Midnight Meat Train” and “Limitless.” Bro-like turns in “The Hangover” and “The A-Team” defined his early stardom and seemed to be about where he was comfortable. Yet Cooper clearly had something to prove. He mugged his way through “Silver Lining Playbooks,” “American Hustle,” and “American Sniper” in such a way that showed his desperation to display his talent. It says a lot about my feelings towards Cooper that I didn't start to warm up to him until he started to relax a little, disappearing into roles like a CGI raccoon or a coked-up Jon Peters. However, those were just preludes. Cooper was assuredly not done showing the world his ability for greatness. And so “Maestro” was born, a passion project Cooper bore to the screen almost singlehandedly. A movie so overflowing with Capital I Importance that it was destined to become the most hotly debated title of 2024's Oscar season. Cooper's plea for greatness worked, with “Maestro” earning notices at multiple award shows before picking up seven Academy Award nominations. Is the mainstream press – who have been largely receptive to the movie – right? Or is “Maestro” as swollen an act of overburdened hubris as everyone on Film Twitter seems convinced it is?

The maestro in question is Leonard Bernstein, the beloved composer and conductor that is one of maybe two modern classical songwriters the average person can name. Bookended by an interview from the end of Bernstein's life, the film essentially begins with the start of superstar career, when he called in to conduct the New York Philharmonic after Bruno Walter fell ill. While writing “On the Town,” Leonard meets actress Felicia Montealegre. Despite Bernstein being gay, he finds a soulmate in Felicia. The two marry and have children, while Bernstein's career as a composer grows in prominence. Yet he's frustrated, seeking to conduct great music. This inner turmoil leads him to affairs, that drive a wedge between himself and Felicia. Yet they remain bonded, which only grows sturdier after Felicia is diagnosed with breast cancer and begins to face the end of her life.

Why do we make biographical movies, books, and so on? Presumably it is in order to gain insight into the minds and actions of people we admire. To learn what made them tick, what drove them to create or perform acts of greatness. “Maestro” begins with a quote from Bernstein, saying that “a work of art does not answer questions” but “provokes them.” This seems to be the approach Cooper has taken to Bernstein here. Because “Maestro” consistently, frustratingly keeps its topic at a distance. What drove Leonard Bernstein to compose and conduct? He makes some vague mention of striving for greatness but little further insight is provided. When we see him conduct, he seems to fall into a state of ecclesiastic euphoria. But why? Bernstein's background is mentioned in dialogue, his love affairs glimpsed in passing, his relationship with his children briefly illustrated, his drug abuse shown in one scene. Yet “Maestro” stubbornly refuses to provide insight for any of these actions. 

“Maestro's” chilly approach to its subject extends to what is, ostensibly, the main focus of the film. The film definitely wants to frame itself as a love story, between Leonard and Felicia. Yet the reason for their bond remains as understated as anything else in the movie. The two share a certain chemistry, sure, and we are presented with many scenes of them talking and chatting. Yet why does Felicia love Leonard? She know he's mostly interested in men, sexually. Yet is still offended when she catches him making out with random twinks. Why does Bernstein cheat on his devoted, loving wife? He bids a male lover farewell after deciding to marry Felicia, another moment that is vaguely defined. We see them argue and we see them comfort each other in the back half, after her cancer diagnosis. However, the spark between them – what either gets out of this relationship – is another element “Maestro” keeps just out of reach. Why Felicia puts up with his moods and infidelity and remoteness is never answered.

Matthew Libatique's cinematography definitely emphasizes the movie's approach. The players are often framed far off in the distance, away from the viewer. Leonard and Felicia talk under a canape in the garden, partially obscured from us. There's an especially ostentatious – some might even say pretentious – sequence where the two argue in a private room. They stand by a window, the balloons from the Macy's Thanksgiving parade going by outside, the camera holding still for several minutes as we watch them verbally spar quite a while away from us. When not holding on these far-off shots, the cinematography is full of flashy movement. There are multiple drawn-out, tracking shots, usually overhead shots that pass through doorways and walls as it follows the characters. Not to mention, the scenes set in the forties are in black-and-white, that most obvious visual indicator that what we are watching is high-minded art. 

The cinematographer is showing off. The sound design – mostly composed of Bernstein's pre-existing music, of course – is showing off. But nobody is showing off in “Maestro” as much as Bradley Cooper. He does everything an actor eager for an Oscar is supposed to do. He wears a fake nose and is plastered in old age make-up as the movie progresses. He applies a distractingly nasal voice. He spits out reams of erudite dialogue. And when Bernstein is conducting, he swings his arms around in rhapsody and contorts his face in utter exaggerated ecstasy. Carey Mulligan is like this too, vomiting monologues of twisting, stagey dialogue. But she's a better actor than Cooper and the entire motive isn't a delivery system for her ACTING, so she comes off a little better. 

Ultimately, what can you call “Maestro” but a massive act of hubris on Cooper's behalf? He directed, co-wrote, and produced this movie strictly as a vehicle for him to play Bernstein. The script is designed to leave so many empty spaces in Bernstein's characterization, that Cooper's frankly sweaty acting is meant to fill the blank spaces. Is this a tribute to Bernstein's genius or a vanity project for an Oscar-hungry A-lister? I know which I believe. I will give Cooper and “Maestro” this much though: He actually put the R.E.M. song in the movie. That made me laugh. “Maestro” is a handsome production, with strong make-up effects, pretty cinematography, and a handful of well-executed scenes. It would have to be, considering the movie and prestige attached to it. Yet a biography that brings us no closer to understanding its subject, as this one does, can be considered nothing but a failure. [5/10]