10/12 ForReel Score | 4/5 Stars

At the beginning of TÁR, the subject of the film Lydia Tár, exceptionally played by Cate Blanchett, is being interviewed about her illustrious career as she promotes her new book and prepares to record Mahler’s Fifth Symphony as the first female lead conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic. Regarded as one of the greatest conductors of her time, she discusses her philosophy on music, her perspective on gender bias in her field, and her take on time - how being a conductor is being one who wields time, where the units of measurement aren’t days and minutes, but rhythm and flow.

It’s hard not to be impressed with the poise she has and the prestige she’s earned for herself, and it’s entirely captivating to listen to Lydia discuss these topics with the full weight of her expertise informing each stretch of exposition she gives. But beyond the luster of Lydia’s career and achievements, there is a deeply flawed human being, and writer and director Todd Field has composed a distressing story to tell in TÁR.

Following this interview, the downward spiral for Lydia Tár slowly begins. As she focuses on her work, she’s plagued with the aftermath of her relationship with a former protégé, Krista. Lydia insists that Krista was a troubled and disturbed individual, but when news surfaces of Krista’s suicide, scrutiny ensues on what transpired between the two. Lydia’s trusty assistant and right hand woman, Francesca played by Noémie Merlant (Portrait of a Lady On Fire), is becoming increasingly disgruntled by how dismissive Lydia can be of her while also reeling from the news of Krista’s death. All the while, Lydia’s wife, Sharon, played by Nina Hoss, maintains a loyalty to her despite an abundance of evidence that indicates a less than virtuous persona. And then eventually, there’s Olga played by Sophie Kauer, the newest member of the Berlin orchestra whose talent and beauty quickly earns Lydia’s affection. Lydia’s status has allowed her to keep time - rhythm and flow - with her intricate work and her unscrupulous lifestyle, but at this point, it’s only a matter of time - days and minutes - before she has to face the music.

Cate Blanchett is phenomenal as Lydia Tár; a true force to be reckoned with. She brings a dynamic energy to the character, whether that’s in Lydia’s quiet yet potent intimidation factor, her expressive and bombastic conducting, or even her moments of uncharacteristic insecurity. Blanchett is commanding, especially in scenes with longer takes. In a one-take sequence where Lydia is guest lecturing a course at Juilliard, a student pushes back on her reverence of classical artists, expressing how their personal affairs lead him to choose not to study their work. Whether you agree with Lydia’s rebuttal or not, it is wholly engaging to watch Blanchett monologue through her assertion that this student’s perspective is misguided through this extended sequence.

But Lydia herself is not at all faultless. Although she is human in some of the best ways - an influential public figure, a devoted mother, and of course a musical genius devoted to her craft - she is also human in some of the worst ways as well. Manipulating, condescending, toxic, and often self-centered, her intellect and prestigious outward appearance masks the ugly truths about her true character - perhaps even from herself. All of this while also privately suffering from her own delusionality (making it ultimately ironic that she labels Krista as the disturbed one). She often hears things that may or may not be there; sounds, tones, and even screams that sometimes have a legitimate source (even if it’s not immediately disclosed) but oftentimes don’t. And periodic dream sequences depict the surreal and somewhat haunting presence of women whispering to her in a black void.

It’s clear that Lydia can have difficulty discerning what’s real - an apparent side effect of being so deeply entrenched in one’s profession. But what’s so incredible about the presentation of TÁR is how that effect is subtly passed on to the audience. In the moment, we can easily grasp the fact that Lydia is hearing things that may or may not be there, and Field plays with how many of these audible mysteries we get resolutions for. But we’re left to ponder less obvious effects of Lydia’s condition, like exactly how much of the Olga character was real and how much was simply Lydia’s superimposed imagination, born out of her infatuation with Olga? One pivotal scene in particular throws into question whether entire interactions or sequences with Olga are wholly fabricated by Lydia.

What is real and abundantly evident, however, is Lydia’s grooming tendencies and gross abuse of power. Behaviors that we as a society are all too familiar with in terms of powerful white men fall squarely in line with how Lydia operates. She bestows inappropriate favoritism onto those she finds personal interest in, surrounds herself with people and colleagues who are intimidated by her enough to willingly turn a blind eye to her behavior, and treats people as disposable when they don’t comply with what she wants. It's all done with such ease that we have to wonder if she even sees the wrong in her actions; it’s not ill-natured behavior to her, it’s second nature. We as an audience are challenged to grapple with our feelings on this destestible behavior being perpetrated by the type of marginalized individual - a female and lesbian in a role typically occupied by men - we in society are encouraged to celebrate the successes of.

It might be inevitable that some will question if Field was the proper person to tell this kind of story; as we continue dictating who has agency to tell which stories, it remains to be seen if a woke population will embrace an unflattering lesbian story as told by a man. But socio-political perspectives aside (and believe me, I’d love to continue more thorough conversations about this and other aspects of this film), Field instills numerous layers of context to assess and decode in this story. TÁR is one of those films where the longer I sit with it in my mind, the more I have to think about and mull over. It’s a rich character study and a bold approach to nuanced storytelling in film; a production composed by Todd Field like a true master at his craft.

MOVIE REVIEW: "TÁR" And The Fall Of A Maestro