Biopics of public figures who rose to prominence in the 20th century are not impersonation contests, yet there’s inevitably a treasure trove of archival footage of the real-life person available on YouTube et al., and I would gently request you check out a few video clips of Leonard Bernstein in advance of seeing Bradley Cooper’s elegant and soaring and beautiful “Maestro.”
To be sure, it’s practically Movie Law that modern-day biopics feature an end-credits scene in which we see footage of the subject, and “Maestro” fully embraces that trope — but if prior to seeing the film you watch just a few slices of TV shows featuring Bernstein playing the piano, delivering a lecture, giving an interview or conducting, you’ll find it’s the perfect appetizer to lead into Cooper’s brilliant performance, in which he captures the look and mannerisms and speech patterns of the great Bernstein without ever delving into an impression. It’s the best acting work of his career.
Following Cooper’s assured directorial debut with the deservedly acclaimed remake of “A Star is Born” (2018), “Maestro” solidifies Cooper’s standing of a skilled filmmaker who this time around embraces a number of stylistic flourishes that augment but never overshadow the story, whether he’s switching from silvery black and white for scenes set in the 1940s and 1950s to bright colors reflecting the late 1960s and 1970s and beyond, playing with aspect ratios or creating a luminous fantasy dance sequence that serves to portend certain future problems.
The production design is exquisite, whether we’re in the Connecticut countryside or Bernstein’s enormous duplex at the Dakota (made famous in Tom Wolfe’s magazine piece, “Radical Chic: That Party at Lenny’s”). Attention to detail is nomination-worthy, whether we’re talking about the consistently impressive hair and makeup (the early nonsense about Cooper’s prosthetic nose proves to be just that: nonsense) or the devotion to historical accuracy, e.g., when Bernstein and his wife, the actress Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan, doing spectacularly passionate work), sit down for a remote interview with Edward R. Murrow, and the dialogue is a verbatim re-creation of the actual TV piece, yet still carries a dramatically impactful punch.
“Maestro” announces its intentions to indulge in fantastical elements from the get-go, in an almost dreamlike sequence set in 1943, when the 25-year-old Bernstein, an assistant conductor at the New York Philharmonic, gets a call informing him that in just a few hours, he’ll be filling in for an ailing Bruno Walter. In a flash, Lenny rips open the curtains to let the sun flood in; says a hasty goodbye to his lover, the clarinetist David Oppenheim (Matt Bomer); dashes down the hallway, and arrives at Carnegie Hall. We then cut directly to Bernstein’s joyous, almost giddy expression as he basks in the glow of a triumphant evening. We’ll go ahead and say it: A star is born.
Although Cooper (who co-wrote the screenplay with Josh Singer) makes creative use of some of Bernstein’s most famous compositions and more than occasionally shows him at the piano or with baton in hand, it’s established early that “Maestro” will be at least equally if not more so focused on Bernstein’s three-decades-long relationship with Felicia, from their meeting at a swank, showbiz-folks party in 1946 through a 25-year marriage that produced three children and was filled with love — though Bernstein’s numerous affairs with men and his unbridled selfishness created great strife and suffering for Felicia.
As Felicia tells Bernstein early on, she knows exactly who he is and has no illusions about that, but after years of Lenny getting ever more careless about flaunting his relationships and embarrassing Felicia, she explodes with rage at a Thanksgiving Day Parade party at the apartment. With a gigantic Snoopy balloon floating by the window in surrealistic fashion, Felicia explodes at Bernstein, telling him, “Your truth is a f---ing lie! It sucks up the energy in every room.”
Before that relatively late moment, however, we revel in the sheer entertainment value of watching Bernstein’s multi-faceted career soar, highlighted by the aforementioned fantasy number in which Lenny joins the sailors dancing onstage in a number that would become “On the Town.” That also serves as a reminder to Felicia and to the audience that while this is a time when gay artists wouldn’t dream of coming out, Lenny was Lenny, and forever would be. (There are also moments of dark humor, as when Lenny runs into Oppenheim and his wife and their newborn in Central Park West and says to the baby: “I slept with both of your parents!”)
The film also does a fine job of addressing Bernstein’s depression, which he characterizes as “melancholy,” and the sometimes painful lengths he had to go to in order to spare his children. A scene in which he tells his college student daughter Jamie (Maya Hawke, wonderful) that she shouldn’t believe the rumors about him being gay is heartbreaking to watch. At Felicia’s urging, Bernstein is shielding his daughter from the truth because he knows it will be devastating to her, but we can see on his face how much it hurts him to tell this lie.
Cooper’s work is nuanced, but he doesn’t shy away from the BIG moments, including a triumphant re-enactment of Bernstein conducting Mahler’s “Resurrection” symphony at Ely Cathedral, which ends on just the right note — Lenny embracing his long-suffering wife, whom he truly did love. When we see the older Bernstein giving a TV interview after Felicia’s passing and speaking of how much he misses her, there’s no doubt theirs was a true love story
Unconventional, to be sure, but real and lasting. “Maestro” is sure to garner multiple Oscar nominations, and deservedly so.
