Director: Todd Field
Writer: Todd Field
Stars: Cate Blanchett, Noémie Merlant, Nina Hoss, Sophie Kauer, Adam Gopnik
Running Time: 2h 38m
Genres: Drama, Music
Todd Field’s recent film, Tár (2022), is an intricately composed psychodrama which elegantly manipulates motifs of power and the self. More than that, Tár certainly highlights Field’s ability to craft convincing characters of depth and wrangle with social issues, deservedly earning himself numerous nominations and accolades.
In fact, the success of this cinematic masterpiece almost rivals the reputation of its anti-heroine, Lydia Tár. From the very beginning, where the audience is thrust abruptly into one of her interviews, Lydia’s character is evident. She is a maestro – a prestigious title given to those who achieve the feat of becoming both a conductor and a composer – and a brilliant one at that. Her success in climbing up the rungs of the musical world manifest in her numerous prestigious appointments as a conductor, her EGOT title and her goal to conduct Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 in Berlin.
However, Lydia finds herself feeling trapped and suffocated, both in her personal and professional life. Allegations of sexual misconduct surface to haunt her and she attempts to suppress them, if only to maintain the perfect image imposed on her by herself and others. The audience, too, is isolated in her narrative, characterised by the numerous close-up and centred shots. Hence, we never really catch her in the deed, but the snippets of conversation and smattering of meaningful looks here and there imperceptibly convince the audience that indeed, something is amiss.
Lydia is portrayed intermittently as a hero and as a villain of her own making, and yet, the audience is always aware of her humanity. It is difficult to avoid feeling scorn at Lydia’s actions and the rampant destruction that she inflicts on herself. Yet, it is also hard to not be imbued with compassion when she cries while revisiting childhood memories. Indeed, this robust character study truly allows Tar to transcend common tropes of mad artists and the like to achieve a depth of its own.
As such, Lydia’s complex character underlines the social commentary injected into the storyline, giving the audience much to sit with after the film. One theme that stood out to me would be the question of whether one can truly separate the artist from their art. Lydia’s stance is clear: she pokes fun at modern day cancel culture in a Juilliard lecture, but later on we find this to be ironically prophetic of the crises she experiences. Field may not give us the answers to these questions, but nonetheless, there is much to think about.
Music forms the very foundation of this film, both as a theme and as a cinematographic device. (Tár is a film about a conductor-composer, after all.) I felt myself particularly moved by Elgar’s Cello Concerto, performed live by Lydia’s young protegee, Olga (Sophie Kauer). But more so, it was the artful silence that occupied the spaces between the sounds that truly struck a chord within me. As the audience witnesses Lydia’s spiral into paranoia, the aural environment changes as well. The stark contrast of her silent and almost sterile commutes to the auditory hallucinations that haunt her at night pull at the audience’s heartstrings, almost just as much the orchestral pieces.
In the end, Tár is more than the study of an artist - it is art itself. It compels viewers to grapple with Lydia’s reality, and in turn, face with our own.
- j