Tár (2022) Film Review and Summary
SOLID 8/10
Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) is not always present. The titular character will probably strike a chord with modern cinema’s obsession with megalomaniacs; demonstrated by the revitalization of characters like American Psycho’s (2000) and The Dark Knight’s (2008) Joker; or modern figureheads like Walter White and Homelander from the series Breaking Bad and The Boys respectively. It is true that Tár often wanders within her own world that she orchestrates the same way she conducts a musical piece, but her controlling nature is so much more subversive and steeped in realism than the names I have mentioned.
The film starts with an interview of Tár that is so hyper focused on the conversation at hand, that a pin dropping could interrupt it. The host alludes to the concept that a composer is almost like the personification of a metronome, of which sets the pace. While Tár deflects and tries to invoke the nuances of performative art, this claim is certainly valid in terms of how the musician attempts to manipulate and rule those around her to the extent that it becomes abusive. This perspective on her behavior is clearly not a concern to Tár, as in a confrontation with her young daughter’s bully, she maintains the authority as an adult to establish that she can do and say whatever she wants without repercussions because who would believe otherwise? Unfortunately for Tár, we live in an era where everything done in the dark comes to light with the possibility of unprecedented explicit evidence.
Many of the film’s scenes have extensively choreographed dialogue, editing and camera work that accentuates the micro-interactions that occur within a surface-level exchange. One of the more powerful examples of this is when Tár is asked to teach a class at Juilliard and finds herself frustrated with one of the students’ socially progressive attitude towards handling the past. This disciple claims that it is too difficult to perform pieces by German composer Johann Sebastian Bach because of his documented history of misogyny and bigotry. Tár entertains this argument at first, but her frustration grows and she embarks upon a painstaking dismantling of this proposition by citing that the narcissism of sensitivity subjects one to the bore of conformity. After a few more tasteless remarks from the composer, the student walks out in disgust and Tár feels no remorse, a feeling that runs scarce for her.
Tár meticulously uses scenes like this to flesh out the complex nuances of the composer’s character. Facial expressions are of the highest importance, where we can constantly analyze the varying responses to Tár’s approach in everything from lunch-dates to practicing with her orchestra. All of these minute details that comprise simple interactions are the same aspects of life that Tár has overlooked, and which eventually returns to haunt her. Director and writer Todd Field wonderfully executes a slow-burning narrative that gradually divulges the misgivings that Tár’s facade of composure masks. Accusations of grooming and betrayal that potentially lead to a protégé’s suicide coincide with the publicization of the aforementioned Julliard fiasco, sending Tár towards a downward spiral of desperation for authority, but no true acknowledgement of her misdeeds. In a time where a figure like Harvey Weinstein used his power as jurisdiction for being above the law, or with Kanye West using his platform to circulate hate speech, it is important for a film like Tár to reinforce the fact that actions have consequences.
On a technical level, Tár exhibits a masterclass in editing that is reminiscent of my recently reviewed Tokyo Story (1953), where the camera will often linger on a frame or a character for an amount of time that would normally mark the end of the scene. Tár gives viewers ample time to scrutinize the moments unfolding in the same way that the characters themselves are able to. It goes without mention that Cate Blanchett’s performance is truly a tour de force of honing the idiosyncrasies and intricacies of a massively troubled and complicated character. Every scene featuring dialogue includes Blanchett in some form, and the film often requires her to verbally dominate each scene with restraint and searing articulation that contrasts the abrasive confrontations that made a similarly tortuous character like Whiplash’s (2014) Fletcher (J.K. Simmons) pop out of the screen.
Lydia Tár is ironically a silent but deadly authority figure. Although her profession is nothing but noise, her approach to life is calculating and full of exploitation of others. Tár is reserved and mild-mannered at first glance, but will very quickly deploy herself into flight-or-fight mode, where she’ll fight until she absolutely has to take flight. Field manages to ground the insurmountable accomplishments of a figure like Tár in reality by paralleling it to a contemporary perception that depicts the ramifications of society’s fair weather celebrity culture, but gives viewers enough room to interpret their own stance on the matter through the means of the composer’s fall from grace.