Todd Field’s Tár
(2022) begins wide, dark, and puzzling. A dense, overlong array of
film credits are difficult to read because the words, including the
title, are printed in small white letters on black and appear slightly out of focus. Most of
the action that follows is shot in subdued natural light that makes
Gordon Willis’s dark victory in The
Godfather (1971)
seem like an eternal sunshine of a spotless mind.
But
bright and clear are text communications via smartphone and emails on
laptops, particularly social media chatter targeting
the film’s title character Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett). Tár is a
world-renowned classical music conductor and composer at the top of
her game. The at first off-putting intrusion into the film of our now
ubiquitous cyber-life is far from for nothing.
Interviewed
at the beginning by actual New Yorker staff writer Adam Gopnik, this
imaginary figure is established as a
brilliant musician with a career of nearly superhuman achievement.
The first woman conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic, now conductor
of the New York Philharmonic as was her idol and one-time teacher
Leonard Bernstein, and also like
Bernstein a teacher of
young conductors at the famous Juilliard School conservatory in New
York. But the shadow of Tár’s
celebrity is half-lit with
complexity and contradiction.
In
a scene pivotal to the story, Tár leads a seminar at Juilliard. In
this master class for conductors shot in a long single take, Tár
challenges a self-identified BIPOC student named Max (Zethphan D.
Smith-Gneist), proud to assert his ignorance of Johann Sebastian Bach
based on the 18th century German composer’s ideological
incompatibility with currently fashionable personal identity tags. (MP wonders how former
Juilliard student Miles
Davis would have
responded to that.) Tár
uses the Socratic method to try to open her students’ ears and
eyes, to provoke and encourage them to think to her level, to pay
attention. But this confines
her to a different
space from Max and maybe
all his classmates. Passionately focused on music, she
hardly can be accused of personally attacking students whose names
she barely knows; she scarcely leaves roadkill. But her “Millennial
robots” take her comments and criticisms personally and vengeance
shall be theirs. Also like Socrates, Tár has protegée-lovers, young
women musicians because she is a lesbian, as teachers, professors,
and artists have for centuries even predating the ancient Greek
philosopher’s time. But this also stirs woes in this overpopulated
era of the personal. Tár
is established comfortably in Berlin with her wife, Sharon Goodnow
(Nina Hoss), principal violinist for the Berlin Philharmonic; the
couple have a small child, Petra (Mila Bogojevic). She travels with a
personal assistant, Francesca Lentini (Noémie Merlant), a young
conductor-protegée. Sharon appears to accept that Tár’s
protegée-lovers are part of the package. However, Krista Taylor
(Sylvie Flote), a former American protegée, seems not to share Tár’s
“traditional” understanding of how these relationships work.
Krista obsessively pursues Tár
online and sends her gifts such as a first edition of Vita
Sackville-West’s 1920 novel “Challenge” (written
at the height of Vita’s passion for Violet Trefusis).
Tár
works out that her former protegée’s first name is an anagram for
“at risk” while her ear and eye wander to replace her current
protegée-lover.Tár is a musical
genius who clearly knows her business which is tough and highly
competitive. We see her thrive as much making music as mastering the
politics of running an orchestra. But her tone-deafness to the
personal and to the spirit of the time makes this story intensely
compelling and dramatic.
What
is a Tár? The
musician’s origin is not a part of her celebrity biography and
remains vague until much later in the story. The accented “á” in the name could make it Hungarian: In that language it means “warehouse”. One
supposes that Tár is a native speaker of American English; she
speaks a good fluent German; as part of her training, she also
travelled to study the music of certain indigenous people in South
America. She as though emerged from a background of dark “tar” to
embrace her celebrity, concealing
a personal present
half-lit a shade out of focus amid spoken half-tones. In
describing her views on conducting in an early interview, Tár said:
“Keeping time is no small thing. Time is the thing… Right from
the beginning, I know what time it is.” Effectively directing an
orchestra may be all about controlling the clock. But when Tár’s
time spins out of joint,
movement gets the best of her.
This later-day
Socrates’s hemlock may be Chinese epic action movie music. But
music is her
life and her passion. Blanchett in this intense role brings off Tár’s
apologia
pro sua vita
by keeping her true to her code—something her detractors never
will
know for themselves.
Or
as Socrates concluded:
“Which
one of us on either side is going toward something that is better? It
is not clear, except to the gods.”
Tár
2022
U.S. (158 minutes) Focus Features/Standard Film Company/EMJAG
Productions. Directed and written by Todd Field; music by Hildur
Guðnadóttir; cinematography by Florian Hoffmeister; editing by
Monika Willi; production design by Marco Bittner Rosser; costume
design by Bina Daigeler; produced by Field, Scott Lambert and
Alexandra Milchan.