Voltaire, the great French philosopher and novelist, once admonished Mlle. Dumesnil, during the rehearsal of his play ‘Merope”, a tragedy in five acts. Madame Dumesnil, known for her seasoned performances, wasn’t getting her emotions right, and Voltaire, ever the uncompromising genius, kept pushing her to dig deeper into herself. At one point – unable to bear the taunt of Voltaire’s demands anymore – she threw up her arms in exasperation and cried: ” I can’t do this, Sir; you need the very devil in you to bring out such emotions as you ask.” Voltaire’s eyes lit up; he broke into a fierce smile and replied: ” Yes, Madam, that is it; you must have the devil in you to succeed in any of the arts.” Typical Voltairean response.
However insensitive this epigrammatic outburst may seem, Voltaire, himself carried as much of the devil in himself as any other artist of his age, and his rebuttal of Madame Dumesnil captured an essential truth about the nature of creativity and creators in general. Michaelangelo, Leanardo da Vinci, John Sebastian Bach, Mozart Ninjinsky, Hemmingway, and Hitchcock – to name a few, all had tormented inner lives and complicated relationships. They were driven by forces and compulsions beyond their control. The timeless quality of their work, however, often belied the tormented personal lives they led, especially when juxtaposed with the breathtaking surge of creativity that poured out of them. They possess a mysterious blend of strength and fragility, talent and weakness, conformity and dissent. It is these dichotomies, the paradoxical nature of their lives, that elevates their work in the eyes of posterity. We question how someone with so many contradictions and inconsistencies could be so gifted and creative. Perhaps we love their work more only because of their personal circumstances. For instance, would we have loved the music of Mozart as much as we do if we did not know that he composed most of his work in utter poverty? Perhaps yes, perhaps No. Similarly, only a few people knew of Van Gogh’s paintings at the beginning of the twentieth century. Today, it is hard to find anyone( even the least interested in painting) who doesn’t know about a little Van Gogh, and that is mainly because biographies and movies have popularized the story of his eccentric life punctuated by creativity and madness. Van Gogh’s life permeates his work and, in turn, has shaped our appreciation of it. Ruminations such as these, at its core, are philosophical questions about the nature of creativity itself. Creativity itself is a form of madness, a digression from established ideas. And unless an artist can break norms, think differently, and can live on his terms, his art may not contain that spark of originality. That is what Voltaire meant when the said, “You must have the devil in you”.
Bradley Cooper’s recent biopic “Maestro” showcases Leonard Bernstein – a maverick musician, an articulate and flamboyant genius whose life as one of the greatest American conductors was often at odds with his personal life and relationships. He was a man of contradictions, infidelities, and uncontrollable desires. He had the devil on him, yet there was something ethereal about his personality and his art. Those deep azure blue eyes, the distinctive long nose, the tall figure, the deep baritone voice, and the sweaty charisma and passion that he brought to his performances are deeply etched in canvas on public consciousness. He elevated the art of conducting music to new heights, transforming the experience of listening to music into a visual art. People flocked to his concerts to watch him conduct music. Bernstein’s visceral understanding of a composer’s intent transformed their symphonies into something else altogether. The works of Mahler, Mendelssohn, Bach, and others took on a renewed shape and form under his musical supervision. The flowing movements of his baton and the intense expressions on his sweat-drenched face enthralled everyone who was privileged to be in that orbit. In each performance, Bernstein lived the music he conducted, and it was as a conductor that he experienced his artistic consummation than as a composer or a pianist – both of which he was equally good at.
Cooper’s biopic is not exhaustive. It is essentially a story of Bernstein and the relationship he shared with his wife, the Costa Rican American actress Felicia Montealegre, for twenty-eight years. Sandwiched between this love story is the tale of a tormented man who couldn’t curtail his desires and relationships with other men discreetly. While Felicia understood that her husband had needs, and only when those needs were met could he bring out the genius within him, her only request was that he kept his dalliances away from public gaze for the sake of the family and the good of his creative talent. The dissipation of energy, which is common in men of extraordinary creativity, afflicted Bernstein, too. Bradley Cooper, as Bernstein, beautifully captures the man in all his dimensions. Camera work by Matthew Libatique, who worked with Cooper in his earlier film “A Star Is Born,” is simply brilliant. His subdued camera work is equally comfortable with the black-and-white images of Bernstein’s early years and the colorful, stylistic period that followed his success. The Bernsteins were wealthy and led an elite social life, and within richly anointed halls and corridors of their affluent New York home, the camera brings out the strained relationship between the husband and the wife. A glance, a turning away, or a casual gesture is enough to indicate a shift in the emotional scale. The couple doesn’t engage in elaborate fights, but they do have beautifully drawn-out arguments between themselves. The writing is so good. The biopic makes it clear that is Felicia who remains the anchor at all times, and Berstein is the wandering ship that constantly needs tethering and focus. Bradley Cooper’s much-talked-about prosthetic nose and his understanding of the material, especially the musical genius of Bernstein, help in bringing out an incredibly realistic portrayal of Bernstein.
We will never know what the real Bernstein thought or felt, and that is why great art is necessary to show what could have been possible. Bradley Cooper succeeds in sketching Bernstein’s emotional dilemmas, sexual tensions, artistic blocks, feelings of inadequacy, and a profound sense of under-accomplishment (surprisingly common among geniuses )- through well-staged sequences and beautifully crafted dialogues. The focus of the film is obviously on Bernstein’s extraordinary ability as a musical conductor. Though Bernstein has composed some incredible film music (West Side Story is the most popular), his serious pieces haven’t gotten the attention it probably deserved. Only recently has there been a revival of Bernstein’s non-film compositions. But it is as a conductor that Bernstein’s art remains unsurpassed; whether it be Mahler, Mozart, Bach, Sibelius, or Tchaikovsky – there isn’t a piece in the classical repertoire that has not found a fresh interpretation through the musical lens of Bernstein. His performances across the world were sold-out events. Bradley Cooper pays tribute to Bernstein’s art as a conductor in a dramatic six-minute sequence in the movie during which Bernstein is shown conducting Mahler’s second symphony ( the Resurrection Symphony) with the London Symphony Orchestra at the Ely Cathedral, England, in 1973. The whole sequence is a single shot with the camera hovering in and around Bradley Cooper as he recreates Bernstein’s performance during the final movement of that grand symphony. I read that Cooper trained under Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the director of the MET orchestra, to ensure his performance was as close to Bernstein’s as it could be. The effect is wonderful. Those six minutes will go down as one of the most dazzling musical sequences in modern cinema. The beauty of Mahler’s incredible composition detaches itself from the screen and stands before us, resurrected in time and space. I read that Bradley Cooper spent the last six years practicing for these six minutes. This is cinema at its best, and the actor has managed the almost impossible act of recreating Bernstein’s genius as a conductor.
Carey Mulligan, the talented English Actor, matches Bradley Cooper’s histrionics in each frame. She plays the role of Felicia with clinical efficiency. Carey Mulligan imbues her role with an authenticity that gives the biopic its emotional resonance. It was a known fact that despite Bernstein’s habitual sexual escapades and infidelities, he loved Felicia profoundly and dearly. Bernstein also understood that she completed him in a way no woman or man ever could. She was not only his moral compass but also his greatest admirer and muse. There is a scene in the movie when Bernstein, after prolonged procrastination, cloisters himself in a room, completes a piece of music, and walks out, triumphantly, with reams of the completed musical score in his hands. He looks for his wife to share the good news; she is not to be seen anywhere. The camera switches angles and catches her running towards the pool and diving into it, fully dressed. It is almost as if she was waiting for Bernstein to finish his creative task. Before she took the dive. No amount of persuasion could have made Bernstein focus; the resolve to do so, she knew, had to come from within himself. And when she knew he had the resolve and finished the score, the joy was too much to bear. Jumping into the pool is the only option for an emotional catharsis.
The movie does have some noticeable flaws, though. For one, the characters are not as well-developed as one would have liked. The focus of the story leans toward Bernstein, with Felicia shown as the second fiddle, which is a biased view of the relationship between them. It is a well-known fact that Felicia lived a rich social and professional acting life herself. I don’t think her life was sufficiently captured or given enough screen time in the biopic. Interestingly, we have noticed this bias In Bradley Cooper’s directorial project. He tends to be more male-heavy in the treatment of his themes. In his previous film, ” A Star Is Born,” the role of Jackon ( played by Bradley Cooper), the struggling musician, was given more weight than Ally ( Lady Gaga), which was not the case in the original version of the movie. Something for Bradley Cooper to think about, I guess. The other observation I have is that the film was made to win the hearts of the Academy Awards Committee. The structure, the studied performances, length, and screenplay are tailored for Academy Award nominations. And I am sure a few nominations will definitely come by, along with a few awards as well. And lastly, not enough time was spent exploring Bernstein’s time with the Clarinetist David Oppenheim, an essential relationship in his life. The few scenes between them are far too short and fleeting to leave an impact. Bernstein never really got over his relationship with David, and his lifelong search for the right man may have had its roots in this relationship.
On the whole, “Maestro” is a fantastic cinematic experience, a measure of what films can do for us. I had planned to watch the movie in the theater in November, but I somehow missed it. Netflix is now streaming the film. I strongly recommend the movie for this holiday season—a must-watch for all those who love meaningful movies.