Jay Rohr
Maria takes a tick to sink in. This tragic, almost fatalistic, attempt to present an operatic biography of a legend occasionally captivates. Masterful moments throughout the movie often overshine any inadequacies. It’s easy to miss the obvious flaws thanks to a stellar lead performance. Criticism may seem like nitpicking. However, the imperfections are what keep this potent drama from being a masterpiece as it staggers too close to being Oscar bait.
The film follows the final week of legendary opera singer Maria Callas, portrayed by the equally iconic Angelina Jolie (Gia). Nonlinear elements allow the movie to jump around her life as she reflects on the past. Her most frequented memories involve a love affair with wealthy shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer). Meanwhile, many events unfold as Callas recounts aspects of her life to a hallucinatory news crew. Though this gives the impression of autobiography, it’s more the tragedy of someone dealing with regret.
Much of Maria centers on her sadness which looms not only over every aspect of her life but the movie as well. The film is an examination of lost love, the claustrophobic qualities of celebrity, sexist objectification, and addiction. Yet, despite being on the verge of tears in almost every scene, Jolie plays the part with imperious restraint. Such contrasts make for a truly marvelous performance as her expressions and vocal intonations belie certain statements. Her acting gives the dialogue more depth than it has on paper.
The shame then is that screenwriter Steven Knight provides very few interesting interactions. Most of Maria unfolds thanks to exposition dumps courtesy of the titular diva. The audience doesn’t get to know characters or events they’re told about them. We then watch Callas strolling around or listening to records of past performances. And the more obvious it becomes that no other role really matters in this movie the more the film starts to feel like blatant Oscar bait.
Although captivating, Angelina Jolie occupies the screen constantly — Maria never wants us to stop thinking about her. Perhaps that’s the point but as the film becomes a repetitive series of events the narrative dulls. Its most fascinating insights are expressed by the movie’s middle.
Meanwhile, Maria follows the standard biopic formula. From tragic childhood to heartbreak, addiction, and breakdown, the only thing missing is a real look at the height of this legend’s career. Tastes of it tickle the ear thanks to records, but Maria’s memories rarely return to those times. When they do, cinematographer Edward Lachman gives them a brighter color palette than the muddy present most of the movie inhabits. It isn’t exactly a stroke of genius to have the idealized past more vibrantly colored, but even predictable poetics have their charm.
That’s often the biggest flaw in Maria. The movie strives for a higher level of visual style either its budget or its filmmakers are incapable of accomplishing. Director Pablo Larraín frequently tries to craft surreal, operatic moments. Unfortunately, his sense of opera seems to primarily be that the music gets louder. There is no subtle beauty or grandeur to these momentary hallucinations, simply choruses shouting songs or orchestras bombastically blasting audiences deaf. There’s nothing near the quirky charm of Patricia Janečková performing “Les oiseaux dans la charmille” or the intensity of Diana Damrau. Larraín’s presentation is nothing more than an aria of depression twinged by a fatalistic acceptance of irrevocable decline.
Maybe that’s why, in the same way arias are self-contained segments for one voice, Maria is mainly a vehicle for Angelina Jolie. That isn’t to say the rest of the cast doesn’t deserve notice. Pierfrancesco Favino (Padrenostro) and Alba Rohrwacher (I am Love) as Ferrucio and Bruna are heartbreaking, devoted servants watching a beloved person decline. Haluk Bilginer (EastEnders) gives some charm to Aristotle Onassis though doesn’t shy away from the character’s toxic qualities. Kodi Smit-McPhee (X-Men: Apocalypse) is fine as the journalist Maria hallucinates, although it’s easy to imagine others playing the part. In addition, the character’s name Mandrax is so eye rollingly ridiculous they might as well have named him Quaaludes.
Sadly, the cast is just here to give Angelina Jolie an excuse to act. As such, she eclipses every other performer. Her Maria Callas is a marvelous interpretation of the legend. The implications of her lines frequently make a viewer aware there is more being said than what’s obviously spoken. She bristles at the paradoxical delight and discomfort of being objectified. She is broken yet held together by sheer will. In the past, she gracefully navigates the piggish unpleasantness of obvious chauvinism, while the closing days of her life have her spitting that stored up fire at similar fools. Jolie conveys all this as well as other aspects with an ease that could only come from someone deeply connected to the role.
Despite a 7-month training period, learning to sing like a proper opera star, those portions are harder to criticize. Depending on the interview, Jolie is either lip-syncing, especially in the flashbacks to the glory days, or there’s some kind of vocal Frankenstein using both voices. Whatever the case, the sound engineering doesn’t always blend the audio well, and Jolie often looks like someone having a very strained lip-sync session. While her singing seems wonderful, it doesn’t come close to the bel canto style Callas was famous for. Her fluid shifts in volume, tone, and intensity just aren’t there which is partly the point as Jolie’s lesser quality is supposed to be indicative of the singer’s decline. It’s almost like Angelina was set up to fail at mimicking a master to heighten the tragical portrayal of lost talent.
Maria is a tragedy about a legend in decline never really accepting life’s regrets. Unfortunately, it doesn’t say anything new about its myriad themes. Despite a once in a lifetime masterful performance by Angelina Jolie, Maria doesn’t offer much else. Pablo Larraín can’t conjure the opera he seeks. But he does give a star her space to shine.
