Maestro Review: Lacks Depth Despite Bradley Cooper’s Passion

Despite Bradley Cooper’s direction elevating his own versatile performance, Maestro is mostly superfluous and scattered.

“A work of art does not answer questions, it provokes them; and its essential meaning is in the tension between the contradictory answers.” Are words we are confronted by as the opening of Bradley Cooper’s sophomore effort, Maestro, which commits to tell the story of the iconic Leonard Bernstein. A story which comes at a time when the sub-genre that generally finds favorable commercial success, but more often than not falls into the trappings of coasting of the trademarks of what has proven to be an enticing formula, but seldom offers singular artistic value.

Being so young into his directing career, Cooper clearly understands what strengths a veteran filmmaker brings in the form of innovation, or at least how much one can offer, and accepts that familiarity isn’t inherently a bad thing, but more so what one does within the storytelling framework that truly matters. Such intentions and the confidence of a seasoned storyteller can be found in Maestro: a personal piece on the conflicting balance between the art we’re compelled to create and the love of those who we cherish and inspire us to create such art.

Note: This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Maestro would not exist without the labor of the writers and actors in both unions.

Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper), on the cusp of becoming the first American-born towering icon of musical composition who would rise to historical prominence is granted the chance to conduct an orchestra in the stead of Bruno Walter, propelling him onto the stage where his exceptional talent is witnessed and can’t be denied.

As he rises in the ranks and amongst his peers, he meets his soon-to-be wife Felicia Montalegre (Carey Mulligan), who is just as passionate about her art as an actress, the pair is instantly taken by each other’s passions and charm. Nevertheless, as we witness their evolving relationship pre, during and post fame we witness as Bernstein’s fluid sexuality and affairs he has over the decades creates a tumultuous relationship affecting their careers and family.

Though the joys of marriage dissipate on the surface, the candle of passion flickers out so to speak, their deep bond is constantly tested but yet is never broken beyond amend.

Cooper once more dons the many tasks demanded from someone working in front and behind the camera: His direction of Maestro elicits a feeling of undeniable command behind the lens, as the imagery created in synchronicity cinematographer Matthew Libatique is breath-taking in the black & white sequences: not only managing to capture the smallest yet most tender of gestures, but also the grand magnificence of conducting concerts with electrifying exuberance. However, even the still moments have a real power.

The literal grandiosity of Bernstein’s professional achievements is reflected all the same with gorgeous wides capturing the many arguments of the couple, as if to respect the distance and privacy of these moments, emotionally bringing us closer to them thanks to the feeling we should not be watching. but the emotion still feels right up close. It’s a delightful filmmaking feat that displays the growth beyond his experience, one that manages to shine through a somewhat unbalanced, smothering conventional screenplay and it’s a welcomed delight to see his talents evolve.

Maestro co-writers Cooper and Josh Singer’s framework while offering some alteration within the expected subgenre, offering a shared focus between husband and wife contextualizing the vitality of their presence in each other’s lives, sneakily revealing itself to thematically revolve around the presence of a remarkable Carey Mulligan.

It however, becomes a tricky act to keep as the momentum more and more begins the dwindle and that initial spark dies off as the film progresses. The awkward scene compositions and (seemingly) increasingly slower pace become more & more apparent, undermining the soulful foundations of the relationship that fades from the spotlight to instead give way to more mundane scenes that expose the low points of the relationship, instead of lingering enough in each key moment to explore the complex emotions of their bond to any deeper level.

It grows less engaging as more character need to be brought into the narrative: from Bernstein’s children to his side hustle who he stubbornly insists on having revolve around Felicia’s life and home, rarely do he sit intimately with her struggling with her emotions and husband’s decisions. The sense of time and intimacy in their internal conflict is lost, despite the frequency of external ones. It’s disorienting, and much like A Star is Born, speaks to Cooper’s need to cut out or at least shorten elongated sequences that outstay their welcome or go so far as to repeat already covered beats.

Where Cooper doesn’t falter in Maestro is his performance: a versatile portrayal of natural, affable charisma is perfected through the years as Bernstein grows older, questionably wiser, and certifiably weary. Not just thanks to the sensational prosthetics, but Cooper’s on-camera journey as Bernstein believably captures the years passing by the music giant through profoundly expressive looks and an energy that juxtaposes that of his younger years, without ever losing that defining aura.

The sorrows he collection along the years is fully realized, be it through the effect his affairs have on how his children see him or the eventual cancer diagnosis of Felicia.

Cooper’s craft is never more convincing than in the third act, where his focus and entire reason of being is dedicated to stand by the woman he married, see it through the end next to her. To elaborate: Mulligan more than meets his match, even outdoing Cooper. Her own dreams and desires are compellingly manifested on screen and undeniably play a crucial part in the success Bernstein found, and it’s thanks to this the chemistry between the two is so beautifully organic.

It’s a relationship far more compelling than the script has time to explore but what works on paper is transposed to the execution by Mulligan captivating performance which carries in equal part the beauty and heartache one can’t help but be taken off their feet by.

It’s a shame that the second half of the film cannot sustain the emotional weight promised within its initial set-pieces: where emotional moments linger enough to matter and to be memorable, visuals are allowed to breathe and be experimental paying loving homages to the real works of Bernstein. Singular, distinct directorial flourishes that sadly dissipate to non-existence, bringing the arresting composition of the whole to feel disrupted as the pieces end up far outshining the whole orchestra with disrupted scenes that abruptly begin and end.

Cooper’s limitations are clear to the point he hasn’t outdone his previous efforts, but his passion is palpable in front of the camera, a quality that is infects his scene partners and the beautiful frames of this lifetime portrait.

Despite Bradley Cooper’s direction elevating his own versatile performance, as much as the touching work of a remarkable Carey Mulligan… Maestro is mostly superfluous and scattered in its trademark biopic storytelling without enough depth to the delicate, complex emotions of its soulful relationship.

FINAL GRADE: B-

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About Maestro

Maestro is a towering and fearless love story chronicling the lifelong relationship between cultural icon Leonard Bernstein and Felicia Montealegre Cohn Bernstein. A love letter to life and art, Maestro, at its core, is an emotionally epic portrayal of family and love.

Maestro In Select Theaters November 22 and on Netflix December 20.