Maestro - Review

Rating: 3 out of 5

BRADLEY Cooper's second outing as director (following his excellent debut, A Star Is Born) cannot be faulted for ambition - but proves to be a flawed biopic of the legendary composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein.

Adopting a fiercely non-linear approach in a bid to avoid the more traditional confines of such a movie, Cooper flits in and out of key moments in Bernstein's life, as if to give a flavour of this gargantuan character without ever really getting underneath his skin.

It's also directed with a bombast befitting one of the many symphonies he penned, hitting emotional highs at certain points, before drifting into occasional lulls during which some of his creative decisions can be called into question.

At its heart, Maestro offers a rigorous examination of Bernstein's complicated relationship with his wife, the actor Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan) - a love that arguably enabled Bernstein to ascend to the heights he scaled in spite of his bisexuality.

In doing so, it also examines his passion for music and for people, as well as the toll of having to decide which to prioritise throughout: to be a showman or husband first.

And then there are the demons that bedevilled both, the anxieties and depressions, and the egos that required keeping in check. In many ways, Cooper's film isn't afraid to delve deep into the warts and all aspects of fame and its repercussions (doubtless co-informed by the director's own experience of dealing with its highs and lows).

But by attempting to shoehorn such a rich, complex life into a film that also wants to tear up the stylistic template of so many biopics, Cooper's film sometimes gets in its own way.

Early on, there's an addictively enigmatic quality to it, which shines as bright as Bernstein himself - all delivered in a thrilling black and white that gives rise to one of several, genuinely virtuoso moments that the film delivers - a scene involving rehearsals for a ballet that would become On The Town, which unfolds into a fantasy sequence in which Leonard and Felicia end up dancing together.

But as the film reverts to colour and the challenges that Bernstein and Felicia begin to mount, the film starts to feel more bloated and less gripping. It's when stylistic choices, such as filming certain conversations and confrontations between them from afar, interrupt the momentum.

There remain some moments of genius - such as a grandstanding extended sequence of composing involving Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No 2, which shows Bernstein in all of his grandeur.

But as the film enters its final straight, there is a laboured feel that somewhat deprives it of its emotional potency, and which invites the feeling that - for all of its bravado - there is still so much missing from Bernstein's life. We, as viewers, haven't got to know or appreciate his genius as well as we might.

Cooper still deserves high praise for his work both in front of and behind the camera, having clearly given his all in service to his subject. And Mulligan is similarly towering. They strike sparks off each other.

But as much as there is to savour about Maestro (and that's a considerable amount), the film doesn't always leave you feeling as though it has hit all the right notes.