Set in a Berlin shrouded with dull hues of grey, from Lydia Tár’s industrial and cold-looking house that she shares with her partner Sharon and their adopted daughter, Petra, to the perpetually rainy streets, Todd Field’s Tár immerses us in an unsettling atmosphere.
Before meeting Tár, a fictional (though this might seem otherwise through Field’s convincing narrative) world-famous and female conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic, the viewer is exposed to her commanding voice amidst the scrolling credits. This is followed by an up-close shot of the Maestro, as she is called by her orchestra, looking beyond the camera whilst a journalist introduces her countless achievements to an audience eager to meet her, including ourselves. Once on stage, Tár dominates the interview, almost monologuing, with witty comments about her art and process, at one point referencing her role model, American conductor Leonard Bernstein who taught her about the meaning of the Hebrew word “kavanah”. Having already situated us in contemporary society, Field capitalises on this with the interviewer recognising the echo between “kavanah” and Kavanaugh, the Justice of the Supreme Court accused of sexual misconduct by several women, only one of many hints towards Tár’s behaviour and her subsequent downfall.
Interpreted by the talented Cate Blanchett, who received the Volpi Cup after the film’s premiere at The Venice International Film Festival in September 2022, Lydia Tár comes to life, as stated by Field, “This script was written for one artist, Cate Blanchett. Had she said no, the film would have never seen the light of day”. The taunting psychological drama recounts the lead-up to a recording of Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 performed by Tár’s German orchestra, a feat that would elevate her to an unreachable status. Accompanied by an eery, proliferating soundtrack, the tone is evident from the start, Tár’s interaction with a fascinated fan, interrupted by her lurking assistant amounting to indiscrete favouritism for a young Russian cellist proves to be problematic when a scandal concerning an ex-student of Tár’s, Krista Taylor, comes to light. Despite her efforts to hide what we can vaguely assume was a transactional sexual relationship that ended badly, the news of Taylor’s suicide results in a lawsuit against the conductor. Throughout this, at first subtle, building tension, the filmmakers make us question how they want us to react – is the class that Tár gives at Julliard in New York City supposed to be a parody? Is it an accurate representation of reality? Even at the end, there is no clear communication as to whether Tár’s fate is fair, it is left up to the audience to decide.
In the final scenes of the film, Field tactfully depicts Tár according to everything she is not. Initially represented as a bit of a clean freak and suffering from an acute awareness of noise, it is symbolic to have her end up in the chaos of an East Asian city conducting an orchestra that, as the camera pans out, is the side act for what seems to be a cosplay intervention.
Image Credit: “Cate Blanchett” by Eva Rinaldi Celebrity Photographer is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.