Eric, you may not post often, but when you do ::chef’s kiss::Eric wrote
Any movie that makes Jeffrey Wells understand that he is, in fact, dumb is by definition not bad.
That it also makes him seemingly un-ironically say that he felt "triggered"? As a very-much-dead-at-that-point Meryl said in Death Becomes Her, "These are the moments that make life worth living."
TAR reviews
Re: TAR reviews
"How's the despair?"
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Eric
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Re: TAR reviews
Any movie that makes Jeffrey Wells understand that he is, in fact, dumb is by definition not bad.
That it also makes him seemingly un-ironically say that he felt "triggered"? As a very-much-dead-at-that-point Meryl said in Death Becomes Her, "These are the moments that make life worth living."
That it also makes him seemingly un-ironically say that he felt "triggered"? As a very-much-dead-at-that-point Meryl said in Death Becomes Her, "These are the moments that make life worth living."
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Mister Tee
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Re: TAR reviews
I've been meaning to write about this since I saw it, over a week ago, but was restrained by feeling I didn't have the energy to give the film its significant due. This discussion prompts me to get some thoughts down before my memory fades, even if I still may not have the mojo to convey everything I took from the film.
Much as I hate to throw any credit Jeffrey Wells' way (his site has become a hive for disgruntled older white guys), his word for the film -- "immersive" -- is kind of key to the film's success. There are those who think the film takes too long to get started, by which they mean the "story" -- Lydia's fraught personal relationships and how they (maybe) threaten her undoing -- isn't pushed into high gear until we're past those opening set pieces, the interview and the master class. But that's assuming (in Robert McKee fashion) that the film is anxious to get to that conflict, that everything up till then is the film spinning its wheels. I think, contrarily, the film is giving us an enormous amount of important information about this character in those segments -- sometimes through the words, sometimes through the images that unfold as they're being spoken. The interview, to me, feels akin to that amazing lengthy opening of The Magnificent Ambersons -- seeming to be a straightforward history lesson, but conveying data in the margins that not only sometimes tells a different story, but occasionally subverts the story being put forward. This entire segment is indeed immersive -- the audience's attention might wander if the detail work weren't so splendid, so precise. As it is, I was completely held by it.
The master class offers a more direct conflict -- a student's perspective at odds with what the teacher is set on getting across -- which at first appears separate from the film that follows, but turns out to be pretty germane. And I agree with okri, that there's no clear signal whose side of that dispute Field or Blanchett agree with. (This is what frustrates Wells, who's persuaded himself "Wokeism" is a greater threat than white supremacy, and wanted Field on his side.)
The film that follows -- getting into the nuts and bolts of Lydia' relationships with her colleagues, how it all swirls around the effort to record Mahler's 5th -- continues to be immersive, primarily by focusing on Lydia's encounters, until we've seen enough that we begin to question our evaluation of her. I don't know how many of you were young enough to read Presumed Innocent when it first appeared in novel form. The remarkable thing about the book -- something the film couldn't quite capture -- was how it put us inside the mind of the central character, moved us through a series of circumstances in which we assumed that character's good faith, then suddenly confronted us with the question, what if all those things we've watched him do were not innocent; were, in fact, the actions of a guilty man? The book went in interesting directions after that, but it was that moment of reversal that stuck with me. And I think a similar thing was done in this film with the character of Lydia. We've thought of her, mostly, as a woman of strong opinions, who's no doubt had to step on a few toes to succeed as a woman in her field, who can do things that are audacious (like confronting the school bully), but whose behavior seems to spring from having clear vision and acting upon it, not from questionable or base motives.
But then, she rigs things so that new, young, attractive cellist comes into her orbit, and we start to question the belief we've invested in Lydia. We remember the way she lingered with the graduate student after the interview; the way she shooed Francesca away after her arrival back in Berlin, and then her urgent directives to delete the email trail; we hear from Sharon a withering takedown of her emotional investment in their seemingly strong relationship. The possibility emerges that maybe Lydia is a fairly terrible, maybe predatory person.
I have to say that 1) I don't think the film's final 15-20 minutes or so stick the landing, in a way that would make the film truly and fully satisfying -- this part of the film somehow feels, simultaneously, both meandering and rushed -- but 2) I'm not sure how I'd suggest fixing this, because there are things Field is trying to do with this part of the film that may not be achievable any other way.
What I think Field is trying to do in this section is twofold: first, to leave it ambiguous whether Lydia is fairly or unfairly accused. Her behavior with the cellist suggests she may have been predatory with earlier young women in her charge -- and Francesca seems like she might be a discarded conquest, who's now hanging around for scraps. But it's equally possible the suicidal young woman was exactly what Lydia says she was: mentally unstable and a bit of a stalker. The film even allows for the possibility that many around Lydia have conspired to bring this moment about -- Francesca, Sharon, even Mark Strong's Elliot -- and it could be they've arranged circumstantial evidence to bring her down. Flying through this last section -- skipping past confrontation scenes -- allows the film to stay in the gray area.
The other possibility I think Field is playing with is, that nothing in this last section actually happened -- that it's Tar hitting crack-up status, imagining her own downfall as punishment for all her life's sins. The film has made it clear that some things it's shown us are Lydia's dreams/fantasies -- the floating bed the most specific, but there are a lot of other things (the overnight metronome, the geometric design) that fall into "is this real, or is she imagining this?" territory. The over-the-top tackling of Elliot at the podium could work as an expression of rage, or, again, a paranoid nightmare. The way the film rushes through these scenes gave them a strong element of unreality, for me, and left me wondering how much of the latter portion of the film could be not meant to be taken literally.
There are interesting elements to the Asian-set finale. Lydia realizing she's being asked to pick a concubine might be crystalizing for her what she's been doing to the women she's chosen for the orchestra over the years. (And it's piquant that she's pushed toward number 5, the very symphony she's been so focused on.) The quick conversation about Apocalypse Now makes clear western dash-in-dash-out exploitation isn't the gift to locals some like to believe (it was one of Lydia's claims to fame, in the opening interview, that she'd opened up more remote parts of the world with her projects). And, finally, that ultimate image, that appears to be the source of Amy Taubin's high dudgeon. I think we're probably meant to think of this as a falling off for Lydia -- the once-mighty head of the Berlin Philharmonic conducting for a cult of sci-fi nerds -- but, on the other hand, we've just seen her reconnecting with those original thoughts from Bernstein, and maybe she's realizing it's all music, that this is fulfilling her life's bliss every bit as much as the glitzy major performances did. (Again: assuming any of this is actually happening.)
To jump out of interpreting-the-text for just a moment, and speak of the film's credits: Blanchett is just a force of nature, here; a great performance end-to-end. She might just win best actress on that basis alone, although I don't know the film as a whole is going to go over that big with Oscar folk. It's an amazing piece of work, but a challenging one, and a group that can say straight-facedly that CODA and Green Book are the year's best movies is going to have trouble with it. I can see nominations in the big categories (though I'm not sure Nina Hoss has quite enough of a part for a supporting nomination -- had her final confrontation with Blanchett gone on a minute or two loner, I'd feel better about her chances) -- but it seems to me Blanchett, riding a big critical consensus, is the only likely winner. (Though, for Christ's sake, a Sound nomination should be a no-brainer -- except for the troglodytes who run the branch.)
Much as I hate to throw any credit Jeffrey Wells' way (his site has become a hive for disgruntled older white guys), his word for the film -- "immersive" -- is kind of key to the film's success. There are those who think the film takes too long to get started, by which they mean the "story" -- Lydia's fraught personal relationships and how they (maybe) threaten her undoing -- isn't pushed into high gear until we're past those opening set pieces, the interview and the master class. But that's assuming (in Robert McKee fashion) that the film is anxious to get to that conflict, that everything up till then is the film spinning its wheels. I think, contrarily, the film is giving us an enormous amount of important information about this character in those segments -- sometimes through the words, sometimes through the images that unfold as they're being spoken. The interview, to me, feels akin to that amazing lengthy opening of The Magnificent Ambersons -- seeming to be a straightforward history lesson, but conveying data in the margins that not only sometimes tells a different story, but occasionally subverts the story being put forward. This entire segment is indeed immersive -- the audience's attention might wander if the detail work weren't so splendid, so precise. As it is, I was completely held by it.
The master class offers a more direct conflict -- a student's perspective at odds with what the teacher is set on getting across -- which at first appears separate from the film that follows, but turns out to be pretty germane. And I agree with okri, that there's no clear signal whose side of that dispute Field or Blanchett agree with. (This is what frustrates Wells, who's persuaded himself "Wokeism" is a greater threat than white supremacy, and wanted Field on his side.)
The film that follows -- getting into the nuts and bolts of Lydia' relationships with her colleagues, how it all swirls around the effort to record Mahler's 5th -- continues to be immersive, primarily by focusing on Lydia's encounters, until we've seen enough that we begin to question our evaluation of her. I don't know how many of you were young enough to read Presumed Innocent when it first appeared in novel form. The remarkable thing about the book -- something the film couldn't quite capture -- was how it put us inside the mind of the central character, moved us through a series of circumstances in which we assumed that character's good faith, then suddenly confronted us with the question, what if all those things we've watched him do were not innocent; were, in fact, the actions of a guilty man? The book went in interesting directions after that, but it was that moment of reversal that stuck with me. And I think a similar thing was done in this film with the character of Lydia. We've thought of her, mostly, as a woman of strong opinions, who's no doubt had to step on a few toes to succeed as a woman in her field, who can do things that are audacious (like confronting the school bully), but whose behavior seems to spring from having clear vision and acting upon it, not from questionable or base motives.
But then, she rigs things so that new, young, attractive cellist comes into her orbit, and we start to question the belief we've invested in Lydia. We remember the way she lingered with the graduate student after the interview; the way she shooed Francesca away after her arrival back in Berlin, and then her urgent directives to delete the email trail; we hear from Sharon a withering takedown of her emotional investment in their seemingly strong relationship. The possibility emerges that maybe Lydia is a fairly terrible, maybe predatory person.
I have to say that 1) I don't think the film's final 15-20 minutes or so stick the landing, in a way that would make the film truly and fully satisfying -- this part of the film somehow feels, simultaneously, both meandering and rushed -- but 2) I'm not sure how I'd suggest fixing this, because there are things Field is trying to do with this part of the film that may not be achievable any other way.
What I think Field is trying to do in this section is twofold: first, to leave it ambiguous whether Lydia is fairly or unfairly accused. Her behavior with the cellist suggests she may have been predatory with earlier young women in her charge -- and Francesca seems like she might be a discarded conquest, who's now hanging around for scraps. But it's equally possible the suicidal young woman was exactly what Lydia says she was: mentally unstable and a bit of a stalker. The film even allows for the possibility that many around Lydia have conspired to bring this moment about -- Francesca, Sharon, even Mark Strong's Elliot -- and it could be they've arranged circumstantial evidence to bring her down. Flying through this last section -- skipping past confrontation scenes -- allows the film to stay in the gray area.
The other possibility I think Field is playing with is, that nothing in this last section actually happened -- that it's Tar hitting crack-up status, imagining her own downfall as punishment for all her life's sins. The film has made it clear that some things it's shown us are Lydia's dreams/fantasies -- the floating bed the most specific, but there are a lot of other things (the overnight metronome, the geometric design) that fall into "is this real, or is she imagining this?" territory. The over-the-top tackling of Elliot at the podium could work as an expression of rage, or, again, a paranoid nightmare. The way the film rushes through these scenes gave them a strong element of unreality, for me, and left me wondering how much of the latter portion of the film could be not meant to be taken literally.
There are interesting elements to the Asian-set finale. Lydia realizing she's being asked to pick a concubine might be crystalizing for her what she's been doing to the women she's chosen for the orchestra over the years. (And it's piquant that she's pushed toward number 5, the very symphony she's been so focused on.) The quick conversation about Apocalypse Now makes clear western dash-in-dash-out exploitation isn't the gift to locals some like to believe (it was one of Lydia's claims to fame, in the opening interview, that she'd opened up more remote parts of the world with her projects). And, finally, that ultimate image, that appears to be the source of Amy Taubin's high dudgeon. I think we're probably meant to think of this as a falling off for Lydia -- the once-mighty head of the Berlin Philharmonic conducting for a cult of sci-fi nerds -- but, on the other hand, we've just seen her reconnecting with those original thoughts from Bernstein, and maybe she's realizing it's all music, that this is fulfilling her life's bliss every bit as much as the glitzy major performances did. (Again: assuming any of this is actually happening.)
To jump out of interpreting-the-text for just a moment, and speak of the film's credits: Blanchett is just a force of nature, here; a great performance end-to-end. She might just win best actress on that basis alone, although I don't know the film as a whole is going to go over that big with Oscar folk. It's an amazing piece of work, but a challenging one, and a group that can say straight-facedly that CODA and Green Book are the year's best movies is going to have trouble with it. I can see nominations in the big categories (though I'm not sure Nina Hoss has quite enough of a part for a supporting nomination -- had her final confrontation with Blanchett gone on a minute or two loner, I'd feel better about her chances) -- but it seems to me Blanchett, riding a big critical consensus, is the only likely winner. (Though, for Christ's sake, a Sound nomination should be a no-brainer -- except for the troglodytes who run the branch.)
Re: TAR reviews
Yeah, don't know where Taubin's coming from at all, to be honest. I thought the first hour was just magnificent. Full on "Greatest American Film since The Irishman/Little Women" territory. The screenplay was gratifyingly complex - the Gopnik interview, the scene with Eliot Kaplan, and the master class were all terrific (honestly, part of the reason I think Taubin's way off is that I'm not even convinced Field/Blanchett are on Tar's side during the master class). Both seemed so keyed into the psychology of Tar in a way I didn't think he had in him, to be honest.
I do wonder if Field was less interested in "the fall" than you would expect for a film of this nature. While credible, it seemed a little more rote. We already understand just how transactional and ambitious Tar is – do we really need the “visit home to see how far she came?” Francesca disappearing from the latter half of the movie is also a bit deflating. And that ending has me very mixed. I get that it’s supposed to be a huge fall for her, but as Sabin mentions, these events have become increasingly popular. The Danish Symphony Orchestra did a superb one for Game of Thrones, for example. Heck, the Berlin Philharmonic does one for Hans Zimmer fairly regularly as well. So it doesn’t feel like a huge fall from grace (and again, I’m not convinced that the film thinks of it as well.). But it does mean that the film is less cathartic than I would’ve liked.
The ensemble is terrific. I found it rather amusing that they cast an Emily Watson look alike to play the celloist (not the one Tar is infatuated with).
Completely irrelevant side note: the pre-show was so long I genuinely thought I stepped into the wrong theatre with a different (late) start time. And I don’t recall a screening where trailers were interspersed with non-movie related commercials. Did not enjoy that.
I do wonder if Field was less interested in "the fall" than you would expect for a film of this nature. While credible, it seemed a little more rote. We already understand just how transactional and ambitious Tar is – do we really need the “visit home to see how far she came?” Francesca disappearing from the latter half of the movie is also a bit deflating. And that ending has me very mixed. I get that it’s supposed to be a huge fall for her, but as Sabin mentions, these events have become increasingly popular. The Danish Symphony Orchestra did a superb one for Game of Thrones, for example. Heck, the Berlin Philharmonic does one for Hans Zimmer fairly regularly as well. So it doesn’t feel like a huge fall from grace (and again, I’m not convinced that the film thinks of it as well.). But it does mean that the film is less cathartic than I would’ve liked.
The ensemble is terrific. I found it rather amusing that they cast an Emily Watson look alike to play the celloist (not the one Tar is infatuated with).
Completely irrelevant side note: the pre-show was so long I genuinely thought I stepped into the wrong theatre with a different (late) start time. And I don’t recall a screening where trailers were interspersed with non-movie related commercials. Did not enjoy that.
Re: TAR reviews
The impression that I got was that she was conducting the score from some nerdy film native to (or popular in) that part of the world. Like a "John Williams Live" thing, the kind of thing you'd imagine she would detest because the people in the audience don't care about anything that she cares about. What it signifies IMO is both karmic retribution but also a new beginning. She'll wait it out, find more work, and stage a comeback as they all do. But you think it's the latter before you discover how nerdy it actually is. I'm not sure if Todd Field or Cate Blanchett grasp how respectable these performances have become in recent years (or at least popular).flipp525 wroteIs she conducting for some kind of Japanese cosplay convention? I was a little confused.Okri wrote
What are people's impressions of the ending?
Not sure what Amy Taubin is on about though. I don't see how it's racist.
"How's the despair?"
Re: TAR reviews
I thought she was conducting the score for a video game, but I'm not sure what the costumed audience was about, although apparently all of the costumes in that scene were real. I haven't read her review, but I'm guessing it was this final sequence that prompted Amy Taubin to call it one of the most racist films she'd ever seen or something along those lines.flipp525 wrote:Is she conducting for some kind of Japanese cosplay convention? I was a little confused.Okri wrote:What are people's impressions of the ending?
Re: TAR reviews
Is she conducting for some kind of Japanese cosplay convention? I was a little confused.Okri wrote:What are people's impressions of the ending?
"The mantle of spinsterhood was definitely in her shoulders. She was twenty five and looked it."
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
-Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell
Re: TAR reviews
What are people's impressions of the ending?
Re: TAR reviews
Watching Tár you almost immediately know that you’re in the hands of a pretty masterful filmmaker. It’s beautiful to watch and keeps a consistent tone and tension throughout its considerable length. The extent to which one will like Tár depends on how much you can tolerate a spare plot line (at least for the first hour or so), a fair amount of ambiguity, putting up with a filmmaker who f*cks with you a bit, and hanging out with a sociopathic character. Me, I thought it was pretty great. This is one, though, that needs a second viewing to pull in more details. There are so many great little details here.
In a way it’s a straightforward film, a character study of someone who lives in a rarefied world and falls from grace. Field just shows you her world and doesn’t cast judgment, leaves that to the audience. Blanchett, an incredible powerhouse here who really seems to inhabit this character, is at once attractive and repellent. She’s incredibly great in this.
Some have criticized this film because they don’t know what Field is trying to say. I like a piece of art that is a bit mysterious and ambiguous, that allows you to project onto it what you will.
I don’t think this will win Academy Awards save for potentially Blanchett because it’s not nearly mainstream enough. Hopefully it’s champions will get it a decent haul of nominations. Lots of terrific craftsmanship here.
In a way it’s a straightforward film, a character study of someone who lives in a rarefied world and falls from grace. Field just shows you her world and doesn’t cast judgment, leaves that to the audience. Blanchett, an incredible powerhouse here who really seems to inhabit this character, is at once attractive and repellent. She’s incredibly great in this.
Some have criticized this film because they don’t know what Field is trying to say. I like a piece of art that is a bit mysterious and ambiguous, that allows you to project onto it what you will.
I don’t think this will win Academy Awards save for potentially Blanchett because it’s not nearly mainstream enough. Hopefully it’s champions will get it a decent haul of nominations. Lots of terrific craftsmanship here.
Re: TAR reviews
TÁR feels like a filmmaker reborn. I haven't seen Todd Field's last two films since their theatrical run, and even though I was a fan of In the Bedroom I can't say I was desperately clamoring for his next film. I am now. While there are some elements I'm wrestling with in TÁR, this is exciting filmmaking from a director I must have written off as "He got over it." I read somewhere that it feels like Field took a page from his Eyes Wide Shut director and has made his Kubrick film. This certainly feels like a film about a brain. TÁR is about the excellent ironic conceit of a conductor losing her mastery over time. We come to learn a lot about Lydia Tár as a charmer and a genius, but mostly it's a study of a tyrant who thinks that she has stopped the world and doesn't need to change with it. She commits some errors of judgment that eventually lead to her hubristic downfall. It's only about cancel culture in the sense that it plays one or two supporting notes in it. It's more interested in the kind of person who has always existed, who gets to the top and thinks they're untouchable. The film doesn't really pass a moral judgment on her. I won't get into spoiler territory but there is a moment that comes to bite Lydia Tár in the ass later on the plays as one way when it is happening and another later on, which comments quite a lot on the phrase "I didn't happen that way." But it's not a moralistic portrait of a downfall. There's so much pleasure to be had in this film, from immersing us for so long in Lydia Tár's life which feels almost devoid of narrative engine for so long (correctly assuming her life is fascinating enough), from refusing to hold our hand through how characters speak in this world (either in English or not), and to the way that Lydia's life crashes down around her in a way that feels like her mastery over time has just been lost.
I'm struggling with what exactly Tár has to say about any of this and what purpose it serves. I can sense a discourse emerging about whether any of this would be tolerable as the portrait of a man's life becoming undone but what Todd Field is doing goes so far beyond a cancel culture scolding. In the end, I think it's a portrait of a hubris and survival. I'm torn about a few horror movie flourishes he uses here and there and what purpose they actually serve, but mostly I just found it to be an exciting experience.
Is this the best performance that Cate Blanchett has given? It's up there with Carol. I think Blanchett is one of those actors who always needs to be kept busy by something and this is a performance about a woman giving a performance, but she goes deeper into her character than I've ever seen before. She's very well served by Todd Field's filmmaking. I could see her winning an Oscar for this. It really depends on her competition but it feels like such a defining work for her. It's everything she's excelled at in the past but given a fresh spin. If Tár isn't too weird for voters or if Focus didn't open it too early, I don't see why she couldn't. I could see a supporting nomination as well for either Nina Hoss as Tár's ignored wife. She's a very sympathetic presence and has two very impactful scenes. I think her biggest hurdle will be that the focus is never on her for quite long enough. Even in her big scenes, we're always watching how Blanchett reacts. But it could happen. Noémie Merlant is also possible as Blanchett's secretary. Her role is understated but she's very sympathetic. Similarly, I think she might be off-camera for too long a stretch. There are good supporting performances from Sophie Kauer, Allan Corduner, and Mark Strong but none are on-screen long enough for nomination consideration but they're all very good. TÁR's best chances are nominations for Cate Blanchett and its remarkable sound design, but I think in a field of ten it should be able to break through for sure. I'd be surprised if it didn't have enough passionate fans. I think Todd Field should be considered a good bet for Best Director and Original Screenplay, although I could see a world where he's overlooked for one or the other on a fluke (both are deserved). It's a dazzling piece of filmmaking so I could see a cinematography nomination. It deserves mention for its editing and production design but I think those aren't flashy enough.
I'm struggling with what exactly Tár has to say about any of this and what purpose it serves. I can sense a discourse emerging about whether any of this would be tolerable as the portrait of a man's life becoming undone but what Todd Field is doing goes so far beyond a cancel culture scolding. In the end, I think it's a portrait of a hubris and survival. I'm torn about a few horror movie flourishes he uses here and there and what purpose they actually serve, but mostly I just found it to be an exciting experience.
Is this the best performance that Cate Blanchett has given? It's up there with Carol. I think Blanchett is one of those actors who always needs to be kept busy by something and this is a performance about a woman giving a performance, but she goes deeper into her character than I've ever seen before. She's very well served by Todd Field's filmmaking. I could see her winning an Oscar for this. It really depends on her competition but it feels like such a defining work for her. It's everything she's excelled at in the past but given a fresh spin. If Tár isn't too weird for voters or if Focus didn't open it too early, I don't see why she couldn't. I could see a supporting nomination as well for either Nina Hoss as Tár's ignored wife. She's a very sympathetic presence and has two very impactful scenes. I think her biggest hurdle will be that the focus is never on her for quite long enough. Even in her big scenes, we're always watching how Blanchett reacts. But it could happen. Noémie Merlant is also possible as Blanchett's secretary. Her role is understated but she's very sympathetic. Similarly, I think she might be off-camera for too long a stretch. There are good supporting performances from Sophie Kauer, Allan Corduner, and Mark Strong but none are on-screen long enough for nomination consideration but they're all very good. TÁR's best chances are nominations for Cate Blanchett and its remarkable sound design, but I think in a field of ten it should be able to break through for sure. I'd be surprised if it didn't have enough passionate fans. I think Todd Field should be considered a good bet for Best Director and Original Screenplay, although I could see a world where he's overlooked for one or the other on a fluke (both are deserved). It's a dazzling piece of filmmaking so I could see a cinematography nomination. It deserves mention for its editing and production design but I think those aren't flashy enough.
"How's the despair?"
Re: TAR reviews
I’m too tired to write out all my thoughts on Tar at the moment, which is just as well because I’m still sorting out a few thoughts on what exactly it’s saying and doing. But it’s far and away the fullest meal I’ve experienced at the movies this year.
"How's the despair?"
Re: TAR reviews
Okay, standard preface: he's awful, his opinions are wacky and no indication of the mainstream, I don't know how he continues to keep his website going in 2022...
But this is what Jeffrey Wells thinks of Tar:
I’ve been scrambling and struggling since late Saturday afternoon, trying to understand what Todd Fields‘ Tar is conveying or not conveying (is it anti-cancel culture or is it slyly condemning Cate Blanchett‘s brilliant but callous conductor and more or less saying “well, she made her bed”?), and venting with friends about how I found Field’s decision to obliquely hint at plot developments occasionally infuriating.
Key HE passage: “This movie is so beautifully made, such an immersive pleasure, and yet so infuriating I could just punch a refrigerator.”
A friend believes that “the film’s elliptical quality is one of the things I absolutely adored about it…it kept me on the edge of my seat. And it’s what made me hungry to see it again (and I hardly feel that way about movies anymore).”
I feel the same way — I’m so upset by my negative reactions to aspects of Tar (while loving so much of it) that I want to sit through it again so I can (hopefully!) settle some of my issues.
Another friend insists that “the information you need is all there. It’s elliptical…but it’s not ambiguous. Some might disagree about this or that, but I think you’d find viewers disagreeing on what happened in many scenes in Bardo, a movie you seem to be cutting a thousand times more slack than this one, even though — sorry — it is borderline unwatchable.”
The focus in Tar is (a) the magnificent work and lifestyle of Cate Blanchett‘s Lydia Tar — I wanted to move into this movie and live there and never come out — but primarily (b) the fanatical determination of “Millennial robots” (as Lydia calls them) to destroy careers of people they see as cruel and abusive.
It’s mainly about a faintly alluded to, stubbornly non-dramatized relationship between an ambitious student and Lydia, a powerful God-like figure in her realm, and how it went wrong and why, and how this resulted in a kind of blood feud — a deliberate act of career assassination and a form of sexual harassment.
But who rejected who exactly, and why do reasonable intelligent viewers of Tar have to argue about this hours later and still not be certain about what happened?
All kinds of exposition is deliberately left out of Tar, and it’s triggering. I’m sorry but Tar takes forever to get going (at least 45 minutes if not longer), and once it does it’s too elliptical, too fleeting, too oblique, too teasing and (I guess) too smart for its own good. It made me feel dumb, and I really hate that.
But I loved the flush world of brilliant, arrogant, confident Lydia. Not to mention the textures, the autumnal Berlin atmospheres, the perfect scarves, the dinners….I wanted to live in it forever.
The bottom line is that Field can’t be bothered to tell a story in a way that most people would find satisfying. He doesn’t show the stuff that we’d like to see and be part of, obviously because he feels that’s the most interesting way to deal the cards. But not for me. Elusive narrative games and coy hintings and teasings and dingle-dangle maneuvers…nope. Maybe if I watch it again it’ll somehow come together?
I’m terribly unhappy about how Tar played for me. It’s made me almost miserable.
But this is what Jeffrey Wells thinks of Tar:
I’ve been scrambling and struggling since late Saturday afternoon, trying to understand what Todd Fields‘ Tar is conveying or not conveying (is it anti-cancel culture or is it slyly condemning Cate Blanchett‘s brilliant but callous conductor and more or less saying “well, she made her bed”?), and venting with friends about how I found Field’s decision to obliquely hint at plot developments occasionally infuriating.
Key HE passage: “This movie is so beautifully made, such an immersive pleasure, and yet so infuriating I could just punch a refrigerator.”
A friend believes that “the film’s elliptical quality is one of the things I absolutely adored about it…it kept me on the edge of my seat. And it’s what made me hungry to see it again (and I hardly feel that way about movies anymore).”
I feel the same way — I’m so upset by my negative reactions to aspects of Tar (while loving so much of it) that I want to sit through it again so I can (hopefully!) settle some of my issues.
Another friend insists that “the information you need is all there. It’s elliptical…but it’s not ambiguous. Some might disagree about this or that, but I think you’d find viewers disagreeing on what happened in many scenes in Bardo, a movie you seem to be cutting a thousand times more slack than this one, even though — sorry — it is borderline unwatchable.”
The focus in Tar is (a) the magnificent work and lifestyle of Cate Blanchett‘s Lydia Tar — I wanted to move into this movie and live there and never come out — but primarily (b) the fanatical determination of “Millennial robots” (as Lydia calls them) to destroy careers of people they see as cruel and abusive.
It’s mainly about a faintly alluded to, stubbornly non-dramatized relationship between an ambitious student and Lydia, a powerful God-like figure in her realm, and how it went wrong and why, and how this resulted in a kind of blood feud — a deliberate act of career assassination and a form of sexual harassment.
But who rejected who exactly, and why do reasonable intelligent viewers of Tar have to argue about this hours later and still not be certain about what happened?
All kinds of exposition is deliberately left out of Tar, and it’s triggering. I’m sorry but Tar takes forever to get going (at least 45 minutes if not longer), and once it does it’s too elliptical, too fleeting, too oblique, too teasing and (I guess) too smart for its own good. It made me feel dumb, and I really hate that.
But I loved the flush world of brilliant, arrogant, confident Lydia. Not to mention the textures, the autumnal Berlin atmospheres, the perfect scarves, the dinners….I wanted to live in it forever.
The bottom line is that Field can’t be bothered to tell a story in a way that most people would find satisfying. He doesn’t show the stuff that we’d like to see and be part of, obviously because he feels that’s the most interesting way to deal the cards. But not for me. Elusive narrative games and coy hintings and teasings and dingle-dangle maneuvers…nope. Maybe if I watch it again it’ll somehow come together?
I’m terribly unhappy about how Tar played for me. It’s made me almost miserable.
"How's the despair?"
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Mister Tee
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Re: TAR reviews
Hanks is an interesting case, because, while he was the favorite for the Oscar in both (consecutive) years, it wasn't because he had huge support from the classic critics' groups (which still had sway, then): he didn't win a single prize from the three old-line groups (he'd won LA in 1988, and would later win NY in 2000 with Cast Away). The first win was based largely on nice-guy-actor-does-drama/plays-sympathetic-AIDS-patient (in a surprisingly popular film), and the second was for the worldwide commercial phenomenon that was Forrest Gump. Neither really match what I'm talking about here with Blanchett, whose Blue Jasmine win was clearly due to critical acclaim, with TAR feeling like it might do the same for her,mlrg wrote:Tom Hanks?Greg wrote:Sally Field?Mister Tee wrote:How many such cases are there, of an actor being the winner-by-acclamation for two different leading roles? Vivien Leigh immediately comes to mind; are there any others?
There are actors who've clearly met the "acclamation" criterion once -- George C. Scott, Nicholson in Cuckoo's Nest, DeNiro in Raging Bull, Cage in Leaving Las Vegas -- but the closest to doing it twice would be Day-Lewis in My Left Foot and There Will Be Blood, for which he swept the critics' awards. However, for the first, he was something of an upset Oscar winner, having lost the Globe to Tom Cruise. (If you're thinking Lincoln, while he was clearly unbeatable for that, he wasn't a critics' automatic, having lost LA to Joaquin Phoenix.)
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Mister Tee
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Re: TAR reviews
For Norma Rae, definitely yes -- she swept the three classic critics' groups, plus NBR and the Globe. But Places in the Heart didn't win her any of those except the Globe, and her win was more in the, Well, someone has to win, and this is the film we like best.Greg wrote:Sally Field?Mister Tee wrote:How many such cases are there, of an actor being the winner-by-acclamation for two different leading roles? Vivien Leigh immediately comes to mind; are there any others?
A remarkable thing about Leigh (which I only learned today when I went looking): she won both NY Critics and the Oscar both times out, and only (ON EDIT) two actresses (the sisters: Fontaine in Suspicion, DeHavilland in The Heiress) won both in all the years in-between.
Last edited by Mister Tee on Fri Sep 02, 2022 1:33 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: TAR reviews
Tom Hanks?Greg wrote:Sally Field?Mister Tee wrote:How many such cases are there, of an actor being the winner-by-acclamation for two different leading roles? Vivien Leigh immediately comes to mind; are there any others?