Review: TAR

Image courtesy of Focus Features.

Todd Field's stunning "TAR" - the director's first feature in 16 years - is sure to make a few ripples and, indeed, there are already debates as to not only what the film means but also where its stance lies on a controversial topic - cancel culture - that it occasionally tackles. I say occasionally because based on some of the discourse around the film, you'd think that's all that it's about. It's not.

More interestingly, many reactions to the film are of the knee-jerk variety. Some people are convinced that the film is anti-cancel culture, while others are convinced that it it's for it. But among the many things that make the film so fascinating is that it's less interested in taking a side in the debate - although the picture seems to have some opinions on the matter - but rather forcing the viewer to come to terms with where they stand on the matter. 

Or, as acclaimed maestro Lydia Tar (Cate Blanchett), the film's prickly lead character, tells another character during one of the film's tenser moments, music - and all great art, for that matter - is all about the questions posed, and often not so much the answers.

The film asks us to watch the spectacular downfall of Tar, whom we first meet as she's taking part in a culture festival being held by The New Yorker and being interviewed by that publication's Adam Gopnik (playing himself). Lydia expounds upon her work and mentor, the great Leonard Bernstein, and mostly dodges questions about being a trailblazing woman - who is married to a woman (Nina Hoss) - in a line of work predominantly and historically populated by white men. During her introduction, she's mentioned as being among a small handful of people in the EGOT club - which refers to those who have won the Emmy, Grammy, Oscar, and Tony.

But something is off and it's starting to make Lydia's uncomfortable. For starters, she's been particularly sensitive to noises - whether it's the patter of shoes on a staircase, the sound of a scream in a park when she's jogging, the ticking of a metronome, or a doorbell - and the introduction of these sounds are almost as jarring to the audience when they suddenly arrive. Lydia needs to escape the noise of the world to do her work - and her music is seemingly the one way she's able to do so, but she appears distracted.

We learn from interviews and discussions that Lydia had to erase part of herself to become part of the hierarchy of the classical music world - she has worked for the Cleveland, Philadelphia, Boston, and New York symphonies and is currently working on a project with the Berlin Symphony to record Mahler's challenging "Symphony 5" - and during a class she teaches where she reigns supreme, she tells the students that a conductor must "obliterate" oneself in front of an audience. She describes the process of learning the "intent" of a composer, and then learning to engage in a dialogue with them - but ultimately giving in to their vision.

During one particular Juilliard class early in the film, her vision is not shared by a student whom she calls upon - and eventually begins picking upon. The student - who describes himself as BIPOC pangender - says that he doesn't listen to the works of Bach because of the composer's philandering and because he can't relate to the cisgender, white male classical music world hierarchy. Lydia argues with the student - often condescendingly and dismissively - and makes some remarks that sound pretty bad when she later realizes that someone recorded and edited them to make them come off worse than were intended.

Lydia's assistant, Francesca (Noemie Merlant) quits and mysteriously disappears after Lydia fails to promote her when a position opens up in the symphony. Worse, the reason for her quitting also appears to have been driven by Lydia's request for Francesca to delete old emails between her and a young woman named Krista who was a Tar protege, possibly a lover, and has now committed suicide. Rumors that Lydia grooms young women and dangles promotions in exchange for sex also float to the surface.

"TAR" is intriguing not because it tackles the hot topic of cancel culture and not because it asks the viewer to pass judgment on Lydia, whom it must be noted is not necessarily portrayed sympathetically. On the one hand, her cruelty toward others - a fellow composer, assistants, members of the symphony she is conducting, etc. - makes it difficult to muster symphony when her acts finally catch up with her. On the other hand, is the work of an artistic genius simply dismissed once it's determined that they're not such a great person?

During one scene, a revered colleague has lunch with Lydia, and she tries to gently break the news that her past behavior is being scrutinized. However, she uses the example of other artists who have fallen out of favor for similar transgressions, prompting her lunch date to remark, "What do private and personal failings have to do with the work?" 

Likewise, in the scene that is sure to create the most controversy - the argument with the student in class - the film appears to be simultaneously skeptical of the white- - and mostly male- - dominated structure in which Tar has become a major player as well as the concept to debunk a musician such as Bach because he too was a part of that structure.

Field's first directorial work was the emotionally brutal and excellent "In the Bedroom," which he followed with the Tom Perrotta adaptation "Little Children." His latest is not only likely his best film to date, but also his most visually accomplished. Field played a small role in Stanley Kubrick's "Eyes Wide Shut" and his proximity to that director appears to have had some influence, as "TAR" often visually bears resemblance to a Kubrick picture in its style and enigmatic nature. Blanchett, already one of the greatest living actresses, gives one of her finest performances, appearing in nearly every scene of the movie and dominating every one of them.

The film's ending could be read as either a cruel joke or merely an exclamation point on just how much Tar cares for the work she does and how far down she's willing to go to be able to do it. A scene in which she watches a Leonard Bernstein clip at her childhood home a short while earlier might provide a clue. As I'd mentioned before, "TAR" raises a lot of questions - and isn't as much concerned with answering them as it is forcing the viewer to question where they stand, all while watching a fascinating and highly accomplished chronicle of a difficult artist's slow motion crash. This is one of the year's finest films.