Jolie hits the high notes in flat rendition of ‘Maria’
Director Pablo Larráin continues to indulge his obsession with iconic 20th-century women with “Maria,” his strange, lumbering ode to troubled opera star Maria Callas. It stars a never-better Angelina Jolie in a comeback of sorts that vividly reminds us what she’s capable of when she puts her mind to it.
While Jolie is soaring to lofty heights, Larráin remains earthbound indulging in another of his rote biopics set during a traumatic week in the life of an international idol under assault for not meeting the public’s unrealistic expectations. With “Jackie,” it was Jacqueline Kennedy (Natalie Portman) in the days before and after the assassination of her husband, Jack; and with “Spencer,” it was Princess Diana (Kristen Stewart) during a fraught Christmas celebration at Sandringham House in which her marriage to Charles was nearing its ugliest.
No different for Callas, who we meet in the throes of a mental breakdown during the final week of her life. Frail and popping an array of prescription pills, Callas is prone to hallucinations and odd behavior while clinging to hopes of a comeback from a long hiatus perpetrated by a faltering voice. Steven Knight’s script doesn’t say it, but you don’t need to be a shrink to see that she’s suicidal. And given the unanswered questions surrounding her death in 1977 at the age of 53, those suspicions are warranted.
If she did take her own life, was she abetted by her maid, Bruna Lapoli (Alba Rohrmacher), and chauffer, Ferruccio Mezzadri (Pierfrancesco Favio), both of whom were conveniently away from Callas’ Paris apartment at the time of her death? Interestingly, both allegedly stood to inherit said flat and a chunk of the diva’s vast fortune. But if there was anything nefarious involved, Larráin and Knight aren’t letting on.
They’re more interested in the mounting psychological obstacles Callas encounters during her coda, a time they speculate was spent on re-examining her triumphs – as the title character in “Anna Bolena” in Athens in 1957 – and bitter disappointments – her failure to land the love of her life, Ari Onassis (Halik Bilginer), who spurned her to marry Jackie O. Given Callas’ one degree of separation from Mrs. Kennedy, I was prepared for Portman to make a cameo, ala the famous crossovers in the Marvel Universe. Alas, it was not to be.
What we get instead is an extreme level of opulence, courtesy of cinematographer Ed Lachman and set decorators Guy Hendrix Dyas and Sandro Piccarozzi. Paris also plays an essential role, but the real beauty of “Maria” rests in Jolie’s unexpectedly marvelous portrayal of a reclusive star, not unlike herself, who burned out and retreated in an act of self-preservation. Sadly, Callas was never afforded the comeback Jolie makes in “Maria.”
For the first time in years, she’s fully engaged, becoming Callas inside and out, causing you to marvel at how closely the two divas resemble each other. Going in, I didn’t think I would be sold on Larráin’s daring casting choice, but all I can say is, Wow! Like Callas, Jolie is beautiful, aloof and mysterious, all in a good way. Whether it’s her convincing lip-synchs of Callas’ greatest hits (all identified by title and composer on screen) or emitting an air of superiority over anyone entering the singer’s orbit, including someone as intimidating as Onassis, Jolie nails it with such strength and vulnerability that it elicits awe and empathy.
Shame she’s constantly undermined by a script that relies so heavily on biopic tropes. It’s great that Knight, who also penned the equally unfulfilling “Spencer,” narrows the focus down to a week in the life, but he dilutes it with a series of disorienting flashbacks to Callas in her younger years. Some of these blasts from the past are essential, like Callas’s mother pimping out a teenaged Maria (Aggelina Papadopoulou) and her sister, Yakinthi (Erophilie Panagiotarea as an adolescent; Valeria Golino as an adult), to horny German soldiers. But others aren’t all that compelling, such as the night Maria met Ari at a celebrity bash.
I also could have done without Kodi Smit-McPhee as the proverbial journalist digging for what few secrets Callas still harbors, if any. Heck, is Smit-McPhee’s Mantrax even real? Given that his surname is also the name of Madam’s drug of choice, I think not. But even if he were genuine, he’s nothing but a distraction. Callas’ life is tragic enough without Larráin’s superfluous accoutrements.
Perhaps it’s because Larráin places so much emphasis on his movie’s aesthetics that it fails to pack the emotional punch it intends. It’s certainly not the fault of Jolie, who gives us a Callas you won’t soon forget; albeit in service of a film that loses its mojo well before the fat lady sings.
Movie review
Maria
Rated: R for a sexual reference and some language
Cast: Angelina Jolie, Pierfrancesco Favio, Alba Rohrwacher, Halik Bilginer, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Stephen Ashfield and Valeria Golino
Director: Pablo Larráin
Writer: Steven Knight
Runtime: 123 minutes
Where: In theaters Nov. 27 before streaming on Netflix beginning Dec. 11
Grade: B-
