Master when Bradley Cooper ate Leonard Amber (**)

Master when Bradley Cooper ate Leonard Amber (**)

The actor-director turns the musician’s “biopic” into an outrageous display of himself through a melodrama essentially afraid of disrespecting anyone

From the beginning of the world, the first thing a child does with a pencil in hand, right after painting the wall, is conduct an orchestra. And that’s partly because there was a man who, on 1950s TV shows like “Omnibus,” attempted to throw himself off the altar without losing his pedigree (or yes, after all, he’s what it’s all about it works), to classical music.

Leonard Bernstein, we talked about him, he was everything. He was the most expressive conductor on the podium, popularizer, cultural agitator and tireless composer of symphonies, religious choral music, pagan musicals, soundtracks… But above all, he was simply Leonard Bernstein. In other words, a universally recognized and still recognizable symbol of the transformative power of creation.

maestro It is his more than expected biopic. At first it was Steven Spielberg who was supposed to take care of her. It’s enough to see the homage he pays him in his dazzling version of West Side Story to regret that the project didn’t come to fruition. In the end, Bradley Cooper called the shots (under the purported supervision of Spielberg himself, who is listed as a producer alongside Scorsese, among others) to fulfill what had by now become a mission, not just a project. He’s validated by his work as an actor and producer on A Star Is Born, his proven passion as an actor, and even his nose, which we’ll talk about in a moment.

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The result to advance the diagnosis, less heartbreaking than overly predictable. The risks of a project like this seemed obvious: a) turning the life of a single man into a hagiography excusing everything, after sanctifying him for being a genius after all; and b) committing the almost indecent act of using the character for personal display in order to position himself as the undisputed Oscar favorite of all years.

Bingo. Two fingers.

maestro She gallops across the screen so confident in her place in the world that she doesn’t hesitate for a second to touch all the buttons (excuse me) of fetén cinema (it’s a homage to the 50s): high-prestige black and white, movements of a very luxurious camera and pseudo-feminist notes that sound more like a request for unsolicited excuses than genuine conviction.

As for the latter, the chosen point of view already gives a hint: his relationship with his wife Felicia Montealegre (Carey Muligan). We are talking about a man who, as the film points out and his children to this day admit (they were the ones who attended the presentation at the Lido), was bisexual and so perfectly focused on his career and himself that he was, in fact, so perfectly composed was focused on his career and himself, a man.

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The film tries to deny itself as a saving saint, but in reality it is just that: a game. The character who draws the tape has all the apologies because after all, he was the best of us all. We say What is out of place is not that maestro He surrenders at the feet of his protagonist, but does so without even wanting to taking the wrong position of criticism…essentially wrong.

From a formal point of view, we face what is expected, both in bombast and in strict compliance with the rules of the most distracting classic melodrama: fall, redemption and even cancer.

Still, it’s what puts the viewer’s defenses on high alert the Bradley Cooper indigestion that audiences are exposed to from start to finish. There appears, in every way, at every age, with every make-up and in every attitude, a man who, like the pencil’s children at the beginning, knows he owns the ball.

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And then there’s the nose thing, which really isn’t. Makeup artist Kazu Hiro says he’s sorry. “I wasn’t expecting; I’m sorry if I hurt some people’s feelings. And in his request for an unsolicited apology, he’s taking the same stand as the film itself.

Keeping that in mind since the trailer was released There were rumors (tweeting more than talking) that we were dealing with a case Jew face. “What is it about a Jewish role being interpreted by a gentile and also being interpreted by a rabbi’s nose?” was the question asked by some, comparing Hiro’s work to the already extinct custom, except in the few Spanish parades of painting the black face of a white man, to let him pass for what he is not.

The family is fully supportive of the film’s work and criticism seems hard to defend unless we decide to go crazy. That we’re definitely in a characterization is a characterization. And that’s it.

so things maestro In summary, it’s two things: a movie, documentary evidence of cannibalism avant-la-lettre and avant-la-society-of-the-snow (Cooper eats amber), and one of Seinfeld’s best episodes, but this is different Story.


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