Tár

Kavanah (Conductor Unbecoming)

or

SNR (One Man's Ceiling is Another Man's Noise Floor)
 

Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) is a world-class conductor, having conducted "the five great orchestras" and is the first female conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic, she is an EGOT winner, composing for both film and stage, and with a teady contract with Deutsche Grammaphon, has her duties with many fellowships and programs around the world, teaches at Julliard, and is out doing press for her new book coming out called "Tár on Tár."

 

As the joke goes, she has a hard time keeping a consistent job.

 

She could tell that joke in several different languages, is world renowned, is a virtuoso concert pianist (even being able to imitate other virtuosos' playing styles) and does interviews with a breezy combination of expertise and modest self-deprecation, describing herself as a "U-Haul lesbian" married to her concertmaster Sharon (Nina Hoss), with whom she parents Petra (Mila Bogojevic), the six year old daughter. She was mentored by "Lenny" and, being an ethno-musicologist, is well-versed on music of all variations and cultures. She even makes Jerry Goldsmith jokes (how arcane!).

In her lectures, she is passionate and esoteric (but makes sure that she couches it with the common touch for the masses) and encourages her students to be fully involved, and embrace music free of strictures of time-period and cultural origin...or comfort. She really does deserve that "acute" accent in her surname vowel as she is, per the definition (Oxford—only Oxford): "having or showing a perceptive understanding or insight; shrewd." 

Well, maybe leave that last part out. Because she also fits the other definition: "(of a bad, difficult, or unwelcome situation or phenomenon) present or experienced to a severe or intense degree." Intense, certainly. Severe, but muffled in the language of the polite, business-like and the erudite. Still, having a well-considered background can't always save you from being ground in the gears. People can be dazzled by the highbrow, but they get defensive when only one of those eyebrows is raised.

The film starts with Tár being photographed on a cell-phone while snarky comments are posted back and forth. We then hear her encouraging a native singer while the technical credits play out over the screen. This is unusual; the long credits are usually saved for the back-page of a movie (here the cast is saved for last). It's an acknowledgment of just how many souls are involved in a "singular vision," which, despite Tár's fame (or the director's) and their image as ring-master, rely on the hired hands to bring it to reality.

We get an interview with her as part of a media blitz which provides a lot of background, then we see her talking to a smitten fan while her assistant Francesca (Noémie Merlant) checks her watch for the next "go-to" moment. We see her in lunches with associates, mentors, and patrons. We see her teach a conducting class where she instructs, informs, lectures, cajoles and condescends to her students until one of them just walks out in disgust. Meanwhile, there are the details—one of Tár's protégés has been trying to make contact her only to be ignored and spurned until the young woman commits suicide. Lydia instructs Francesca to delete all of her e-mails. Her daughter is being bullied at school, so Lydia drives her to school, singles out that child and threatens her (in German!) that if she does it again, she will "get" her, and if she tries to tell somebody in authority about it, no one will believe her. Then, there are suspicions that Tár is grooming a Russian cellist (Sophie Kauer); it's happened before and the consequences were dire. Tar's orchestras are in lock-step and sound harmonious. Her staff and associates and lawyers are starting to rebel.

Todd Field—this is his first film since 2006's Little Children—is closely associated—too closely, I think—with Stanley Kubrick. He appeared in Kubrick's Eyes Wide Shut and, while on-set, was subjected to the Kubrickian "grilling" of why he wanted to make a film of In the Bedroom (which he directed in 2001). Too much is made of the connection between the two as their "styles" are very different. But, Tár does share a certain thematic kinship with a thread running through Kubrick's films, that of people being too smart for their own good. Of brilliant people (and systems) being undone by character flaws or unanticipated consequences, or by the mere vagaries of Fate.

There is also the stringent way that Field refuses to "stack the deck" in his screenplay: you see the good in Tár as well as the bad and you see the good intentions and the bad consequences of the forces that undermine her. There's no judgment here. It's simply the environment in which the character operates, one that she has exploited to her gain and utilized to her detriment. One can rail against "cancel culture"—and those on the receiving end of it always do—but, there's always some hurt feelings and wounded pride mixed in when those in power come to the realization they don't have power over people's money or people's time (and how they spend both) and that, however high their intentions, they're just another stall in the marketplace of ideas.

Any artist must consider their audience—just as writers do—even as they bring their own ideas to the fore because nothing exists in a vacuum. If one is going to present music, one must consider the acoustics of where it will be played. And, as is made clear throughout the film, Tár never considers her acoustics, her surroundings. Little sounds annoy her—and the sound design of the movie is brilliant. In the majesty of her work, her interpretation, one wonders what she'd do to the person in the audience who coughs.

 

The film makes no judgment; it just tells a story. It's up to the viewer to draw their own conclusions on what's what. There will be arguments and counter-arguments. Everyone will have their own singular interpretation and reaction. There's no "right" answer, no matter how learned and studied yours might be. Or how prejudiced. For me, it brings up several uncomfortable ironies: how the cultured can be very uncultured when dealing with things that scratch people's sensitivities and how the liberal arts can piss off the disenfranchised and how the fringe can be very parochial.