Maestro

Dazzling cinematography, classical music, and a giant Snoopy… What could go wrong? Maestro follows legendary conductor Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) throughout his famed life. But instead of focusing on all the projects and work that we adore, it chooses to take a deeper dive into his marriage with Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan). Maestro is also the sophomore directorial feature by Oscar nominee Bradley Cooper, following his fabulous 2018 hit A Star is Born. I was enamored by both his directorial vision and his performance in that film, beyond excited to see what Cooper would do next. I’m disappointed to report that Maestro is a bit of a letdown.

One thing the Netflix original does have going for it is its masterful crafts. The dazzling cinematography captured by Matthew Libatique mixes both black and white visuals with scenes in color. Libatique’s camera movements are so captivating that it genuinely steals the show. The makeup work done on both Cooper and Mulligan, the costuming, the production design, and the sound design are all also masterfully done. 

Much like the titular Maestro, Cooper is a jack of all trades. He directs, writes, stars, and produces Maestro. However, unlike the titular Maestro, Cooper’s adeptness at each varies wildly in this film. His best addition to this film is his direction, which is a massive step up from A Star is Born. In tandem with the aforementioned gorgeous cinematography, Cooper captures the beauty of conducting, knows the perfect places to put a camera in pivotal scenes, and pushes his ensemble skillfully to evoke certain reactions out of them. 

Where Cooper falls short, however, is in his messy screenplay. Cooper worked with Josh Singer to craft a script that would have benefited greatly from a faster pace. The narrative begins in the middle of Bernstein’s rise to fame, but throughout the 129-minute drama, the story is often bogged down by a much slower pace that kills some truly well-done and captivating moments. The plot at times can feel very jumbled, as it simultaneously attempts to do too much while also not doing quite enough. The editing in Maestro has its moments, like the occasional seamless transitions between scenes that complements the cinematography wonderfully, but quite frequently has odd cuts that take you out of the film. 

While Cooper’s direction is mesmerizing and his screenwriting is haphazard, he is merely solid as the leading role. He does ooze charisma and have an infectiously bright smile during the younger scenes of Bernstein, giving the man this ambition and creativity that radiates off the screen. I also admire Cooper’s commitment to the role, as he does radically change his voice, mannerisms, and visual look to transform into Bernstein. I was especially impressed by him near the closing moments of the film. In this scene, Bernstein is conducting an orchestra in a church-like setting. The entire sequence is glorious, from the production elements that make this moment so immersive to the always remarkable cinematography. However, Cooper’s kinetic energy in these moments is magnetizing, and it’s impossible to take your eyes off of him during this scene. That being said, overall it does feel like Cooper is checking every box to finally receive that illustrious Academy Award after his many failed attempts. The motivations behind the performance were a bit too palpable for me to fully connect with it. 

I am also mixed on Mulligan’s performance. The first half of the movie she is regarded as a typical supporting wife role. In these scenes, Mulligan communicates so much with her eyes and facial movements but is not given very much to do. You can easily buy into this romance and clearly see Montealegre falling head over heels. Towards the middle of the film, though, we can start to see Mulligan’s performance transform into something much weightier. Tension between the lovers arises, and the built up anger inside of Montealegre is in full force through Mulligan’s self contained performance until one pivotal scene that showcases why Mulligan is a master of her craft. During this moment, she gets to explode, commanding the screen in an impressively well-filmed and directed sequence. Cooper makes a bold choice to film it all in one wide shot without ever zooming in. The audience can barely make out the actors' facial emotions and are relegated to having to listen to their arguing words and vocal tones. This only heightens Mulligan's portrayal in this sequence. Then, for the final 30 minutes, her performance transforms once again. This time, she is given very little material to work with and has to commit to a certain acting style that did not click for me much. Mulligan’s final take on this character is unfortunately significantly weaker than her first two. 

All in all, Maestro is a well-crafted film with an abundance of Oscar prospects and passionate fans on the festival circuit. Regrettably, I am not one of them. While its technical elements astounded me with their ability to immerse me in certain scenes, I was overall dispassionate about the film. It failed to make its mark on me due to the disruptive rhyming of the screenplay. If Maestro dove even deeper into the couple's drama, showcased more musical moments from Cooper’s Berstein, or gave Cooper more room for creative directorial choices, I would have appreciated it more. Alas, like a mediocre orchestra performance, this film won’t stay with me at all. 

6/10