Maria ☆☆☆☆

Starring: Angelina Jolie, Kodi
Smit-McPhee, Haluk Bilginer

Direction: Pablo Larrain

There are effectively three stories being told in Maria. The first is the surface-level plot, the life of Maria Callas, told through that life’s final few days: the legendarily charismatic American-born Greek singer who beguiled the opera world with her exceptional voice and her dramatic private life, a foundational myth of the definitional diva. It is also the story of Pablo Larraín, the Chilean filmmaker who has become obsessed with making sumptuous, psychologically rich period biopics about regal 20th century women (Jackie, Spencer), and seems to be slowly building his own unique subgenre. The third and perhaps most compelling story is that of Angelina Jolie, in the title role, taking her first acting gig in three years, and her first leading dramatic role in over a decade. Her very presence here is a story in itself.

As Maria Callas, Jolie is staggeringly good. Perhaps the best she’s ever been. From the off, she is a riveting, commanding presence: delicate and devastating, her small frame dominating a large room, even as her loyal live-in staff worry about her weight loss. Jolie adopts a mid-century, mid-Atlantic accent, with which to deliver some witty, sharp-tongued dialogue gifted from Steven Knight’s insightful script. Depicted here, Maria is a diva above all others, the Platonic ideal. “Book me a table at a café where the waiters know who I am,” Callas demands at one point. “I’m in the mood for adulation.”

“As Maria Callas, Angelina Jolie is staggeringly good. Perhaps the best she’s ever been. From the off, she is a riveting, commanding presence: delicate and devastating, her small frame dominating a large room, even as her loyal live-in staff worry about her weight loss. Jolie adopts a mid-century, mid-Atlantic accent, with which to deliver some witty, sharp-tongued dialogue gifted from Steven Knight’s insightful script. It is, as much as anything else, a study of performance and fame, of how addictive and intoxicating it can be, a rich blessing and a terrible curse. Which is why it is so fascinating that Jolie herself has taken the role: this film is something of a comeback for her, having taken a deliberate break from acting after some difficult years in her personal life; her character in the film is also mulling a return to the glare of the spotlight. The parallels invite themselves. What is behind the need, the hunger for that glare, even when it punishes more than rewards?”

It is, as much as anything else, a study of performance and fame, of how addictive and intoxicating it can be, a rich blessing and a terrible curse. Which is why it is so fascinating that Jolie herself has taken the role: this film is something of a comeback for her, having taken a deliberate break from acting after some difficult years in her personal life; her character in the film is also mulling a return to the glare of the spotlight. The parallels invite themselves. What is behind the need, the hunger for that glare, even when it punishes more than rewards? What happens when your own iconography threatens to overshadow the human inside? “I took liberties all my life,” Callas archly observes at one point, “and the world took liberties with me.”

Some Callas-connoisseurs might quibble with the nuances of Jolie’s take, which by all accounts is less of a direct impersonation than something seeking the ‘spirit’ of Callas. She certainly makes for a convincing soprano; during the singing scenes, which apparently use a clever blend of both Callas and Jolie’s voices, it is never quite clear where the seams are. The easy temptation with a story like this would be to go big and, well, operatic, and there are certainly some sporadic, dazzlingly surreal hallucinations that feel plucked from a production at Teatro alla Scala — but on the whole this is a muted, autumnal affair, matching Maria’s mood. Unlike the wacky black-and-white horror-comedy stylings of his last film, El Conde (which depicted the Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet as a literal vampire), Larraín takes an understated approach, wisely getting out the way of his leading lady where possible.

Only occasionally does the film fall into biopic pitfalls. Kodi Smit-McPhee plays a television interviewer who appears to be a figment of Callas’ imagination, or a series of hallucinations — a device which conveniently takes us through the key events of her life. That includes a grisly moment in 1940 when she is forced to perform for Nazi officers during World War II — shout-out to Aggelina Papadopoulou for the tricky job of portraying a young Callas, despite little resemblance to Jolie — scenes that feel more forced and box-tick-y than the main 1977 narrative.

Any time that Larraín pulls away from Jolie, in fact, the film feels like it slightly loses its focus. There is perhaps too much emphasis on her ex-husband, the Greek billionaire Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer) — even if it does offer the tantalising prospect of a shared Larraín Biopic Universe (Onassis also married Jackie Kennedy, a previous fixation of the director).

What continuously both grounds and elevates the film is Jolie, her humanity, sensitivity and loneliness aching through the screen. She deserves to take home an armful of awards, and it would be a fitting end to this chapter of her story. But more than that kind of recognition, she deserves to be acknowledged as a kindred spirit to Callas: they are, this film confirms, two extraordinary women, whose fame shaped them, and in turn shaped their fame. La Diva Eterna lives in Jolie, with a performance as towering as it is understated: sad and soulful and heartbreaking. She has never been better. Brava!

-Courtesy: empireonline.com

Rating system: *Not on your life * ½ If you really must waste your time ** Hardly worth the bother ** ½ Okay for a slow afternoon only *** Good enough for a look see *** ½ Recommended viewing **** Don’t miss it **** ½ Almost perfect ***** Perfection