“Maestro” is a lot like composer Leonard Bernstein’s life – eclectic, disjointed, conflicted, loving.
More of a photo album than a biography, Bradley Cooper’s film hits key points without context. In the end, you should be able to come to some kind of conclusion about the relationship he shared with wife Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan), an actress and early-day influencer.
The famed musician (as he preferred to call himself) is on a fast track to success when we first meet him. He’s called to pinch hit for a conductor who’s ill. That begins the journey that includes several Broadway shows, a successful series of CBS specials and acclaim as one of the country’s key advocates for classical music.
Behind the scenes, there’s a much different picture. Bisexual, he has relationships with men and Montealegre. They marry; he still carries on.
While Bernstein (played by Cooper) never expresses remorse about the duality, he does try to be all things to all people. You can see it in the way he bores in when he speaks. Even interviewers get the Bernstein charm. Settling down, however, is impossible.
To convey those different moments, Cooper shoots scenes in a multitude of ways. It’s impossible to get too comfortable with any one method. Costumes, hairstyles and sets reflect that constant change.
Mulligan, however, is a rock, always there for him, always willing to keep the train on its tracks. She plays Montealegre like a Katharine Hepburn-era stage actress. Her mid-Atlantic accent suggests culture; her wardrobe confirms it. Even though others would like her to take a stand, she knows better and realizes life would be duller without Lenny in it. The performance is vital to understanding why Bernstein was able to do what he did.
While Cooper is more a product of hair and makeup (his demeanor isn’t quite as confident as the real Bernstein’s), he captures the man’s excitement and is masterful conducting orchestras.
Put into play with others (including Matt Bomer as a lover), he exudes that personality that made Bernstein a force. The talent was there, too. Cooper shows him working at a piano, obsessing over a score and becoming part of a production. His family times are equally intense but they don’t suggest he put them first. “In the moment” was his operational system. Only when Montealegre is diagnosed with cancer does he think about something other than his own needs.
Like Bernstein, Cooper delights in surprising. An opening shot takes him from his bedroom to the theater without cuts. A concert performance lingers longer than you’d expect. When he’s looking at someone, his eyes are paramount.
A work of art, “Maestro” gives its performers space to leave their own marks. Mulligan seizes the opportunity and comes away with one of the best performances of the year. Cooper is fine, too, but his talents soar behind the camera. Like Bernstein’s first conducting job, this shows the promise of a great, great artist.
