Tár

I saw the French Film Irreversible in a film class in 2007. It's a film notorious for its nauseating infrasonic sound mix and telling its story in reverse-chronological order (among other things). I remember the reverse order but not its sound mix; due to a DVD error, we watched the film mute.

A year earlier, director and writer Todd Field made his second and seemingly final film, Little Children. He's back with Tár, a film that opens with the end credits, sans cast, in reverse. I almost thought it was going the Irreversible route, but no, it's chronological. So, what's it about?

Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) is the conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic and a musical icon. She was mentored by Leonard Bernstein himself and she herself mentored, among others, this film's composer, Hildur Guðnadóttir. The film opens with a lengthy interview with The New Yorker's Adam Gopnik outlining her life and musical philosophy. Her warm public persona contrasts with her cold private one. She alienates a student at her Julliard class (in an equally lengthy scene) and is distant with her wife Sharon (Nina Hoss), their daughter Petra (Mila Bogojevic) and her assistant, Francessca (Noémie Merlant).

One of Tár's former students, Krista Taylor (Sylvia Flote), kills herself. She leaves behind allegations that she and Tár had an inappropriate relationship. This comes just as Tár and the Philharmonic prepare to record Mahler's Fifth. Tár tries to deny the allegations but along comes a new cellist, Olga (Sophie Kauer). She tries to start an affair with Olga, but it doesn't end well. Neither does her career.

Yes, its titular character is pretty much an abusive predator. But she's a charismatic one thanks to Blanchett's performance. She makes a strong case about looking past one's homelife in appreciating their arts during that lengthy class. We can at least side with her when that class is later re-edited online into her Worst Behavior Greatest Hits collection. She presents Krista as an obsessed fan, and we're inclined to believe her. Her relationship with Olga does lend validity to Krista's accusations, though. It's quite shocking to see her discard her coldness when she assaults her substitute conductor, Eliot (Mark Strong), on stage. She's there in practically every scene of the film's massive 158 minutes.

Tár's supporting women are more sympathetic than she. Francessca and Sharon both feel equally unappreciated by the "supreme genius" in their lives. They both get to call her out on it. Their sympathy barely fades even if the film gives them some selfish subtext for leaving her. Olga is quite likable; her giddy reaction to making the orchestra is endearing. We soon learn she's not so easily manipulated by her conductor's advances. Krista only appears in several fleeting instances. What we learn about her lets us pity her, though.

Editor Monika Wili and the sound team let us into Tár's crumbling mind. We hear the same unnerving ambient sounds she hears, some of which are never explained. We see her nightmares, some of which involves Krista, and another has her in a burning bed in a swamp. Her real world is perfectly bleak thanks to Florian Hoffmeister's cinematography. It makes one want to almost sympathize with her. On a positive note, the film's set list, whether it's Guðnadóttir's compositions or pieces she arranged, makes for a crisp soundtrack. 

Whether or not you enjoy Tár depends on whether you can stand its villain protagonist for so long. A lot of its scenes felt excessively long (the two I mentioned make up a bulk of its first half-hour). But one can almost feel something for its titular character. Her final scene is supposed to show her at rock-bottom, but let's say she can get some fan points with her venue. It's still playing in theaters now, though you can see it on streaming for $19.99 (it'll be cheaper and on home media in a month or so). I'll leave it to you when and where to see it.