Review: Maestro

By John Corrado

★★★ (out of 4)

Following his 2018 directorial debut A Star is Born, Bradley Cooper now turns his attention to the life of New York composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein in the biopic Maestro, casting himself in the leading role.

The film spans decades in the life of Bernstein from the 1940s to the 1980s, beginning with him as a young conductor being given the chance to conduct the New York Philharmonic through fate, when the regular conductor calls in sick.

But the story mainly focuses on the closeted Lenny’s relationship with his wife, actress Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), over several decades. The two meet at a dinner party, one of several New York high society gatherings depicted in the film.

Along with the assorted musical sequences, these house parties inform the narrative structure, as their marriage becomes complicated by his affairs with a myriad of men in his orbit. But the film still shows their relationship being built on love, even if certain desires needed to be fulfilled elsewhere. Leonard is presented as somewhat openly bisexual, with the suggestion being that Felicia knew when she married him. “I have slept with both your parents,” Cooper’s Bernstein coos to clarinetist David Oppenheim’s (Matt Bomer) new baby, after kissing his old boyfriend on the lips in front of Central Park.

The screenplay, co-written by Cooper and Josh Singer (Spotlight), presents Leonard and Felicia’s relationship as a series of interludes with jumps ahead in time, offering snapshots of moments and conversations in their life together. As gorgeously crafted as these parts often are, they don’t always quite flow together into a whole. At times the approach feels too stately and detached (aside from the errant kiss or post-coital cuddle, the film is also mostly sexless, though this is perhaps done in keeping with the films of the different eras that it tries to emulate).

If the screenplay doesn’t go as deep into Bernstein’s career or creative process as it could have, the film is carried by the strength of its performances. Mulligan brings both confidence and vulnerability to her portrayal of Felicia, displaying more naked emotion as the film goes on. The cast is rounded out by Maya Hawke, who enters the picture like a firecracker as the adult version of their daughter Jamie, and Sarah Silverman as Leonard’s sister.

Aided by slight prosthetics, and makeup work that allows him to believably play the character from young man to geriatric, Cooper disappears into the role of Bernstein, especially in the showstopper conducting scenes. The thunderous centrepiece is a recreation of Bernstein conducting Mahler’s Second Symphony at Ely Cathedral. The camera moves around the church to capture his waving arms and flop sweat as he furiously conducts the orchestra, with Cooper having trained for years to get the movements right. It feels like the pinnacle of the actor’s performance here, and perhaps also his filmmaking.

Cooper’s direction shows confidence throughout, as the film moves from black-and-white to colour and switches between both 1.33:1 and 1.85:1 aspect ratios to signal the passage of time. The film is entirely scored by Bernstein’s own music, with familiar pieces coming in at key moments (like the theme from West Side Story). There are a number of beautifully orchestrated scenes, including a musical interlude featuring dancers dressed as sailors from Bernstein’s musical On the Town, that unfolds as a fantastical dream ballet.

This is all captured through excellent cinematography by Matthew Libatique, who offers some striking shot compositions. Some scenes unfold in intimate closeups, while others keep the characters at a safe distance in master shots, like an argument framed from across the garden. The performances are further highlighted by the use of long takes, including a key scene in an apartment that unfolds with the camera locked off across the room, allowing us to observe the full body language of the two leads, as the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade floats by the windows outside.

Produced by Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg (who initially planned to direct it, but reportedly offered the film to Cooper after screening A Star is Born), Maestro is a very different artistic statement from Cooper’s debut. At times it feels more like an art film influenced by European cinema than the standard American biopic. But in curating this collection of moments from his life to recreate, Cooper’s film perhaps gets at some deeper truth about Bernstein and his marriage. It shows maturity for him as a filmmaker, including some supremely accomplished elements.