Review: Maria

Image courtesy of Netflix.

Director Pablo Larrain's third film in his unofficial trilogy of iconic women facing loneliness and life changes focuses on opera diva Maria Callas (portrayed here by Angelina Jolie) as she grapples with losing the thing that has long defined her - her voice and ability to sing.

The other two films in Larrain's trilogy were "Jackie," my favorite of the three, which followed Jackie Kennedy in the minutes and hours after her husband's assassination, and "Spencer," which chronicled a few lonely days and nights in the life of Princess Diana around the Christmas holiday. 

In many respects, "Maria" feels the most like a chamber piece, although there are a handful of scenes in which she ventures into cafes - where she openly tells waiters and bartenders that she's there to be adored, and not for the cuisine - or the odd recitals, which become increasingly painful for her.

But most of the picture is spent in her luxurious Parisian home, where she spends much of her time hanging out with her dedicated maid Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher) and manservant Ferruccio (Pierfrancesco Favino), who double as her only friends. The trio plays cards and Bruna humors Maria by telling her that her voice still sounds good as she flips an omelet. Occasionally, Bruna and Ferruccio move Callas' massive piano to various spots in the apartment due to whichever way her whims are moving her.

The picture's story - mostly set in the apartment - includes two framing devices: an interview with a reporter named Mandrax (Kodi Smit-McPhee), which is also the name of the medication that she's on and who may or may not be real, and her fateful romance with shipping magnate Ari Onassis (Haluk Bilginer), who is careless with Maria's affections.

This is the first Jolie performance in some time that I can recall and it's among her best. It's a challenging role and the camera is trained on Jolie at nearly all times. Maria is portrayed as somewhat of a diva, albeit one who is self aware. She bosses Ferruccio around, but there's always a sense of playfulness involved, and he doesn't seem to take her demands to heart. Callas is also a tragic figure and Jolie's work here is never anything less than deeply felt.

Whether we are seeing the real Callas here - again, there's a sense that much of what is going on in the film is a result of whatever illness she is suffering or the medication that she's taking - or whether she remains a mystery to us completely is left to the imagination. 

Similar to "Jackie" and "Spencer," the film is much less interested in biography - and certainly not hagiography - than it is in a situational examination of its character's psyche at a specific moment. As such, "Maria" is an engrossing and moving experience.