Maestro

Bradley Cooper's directorial debut (A Star is Born) hinted that a stellar director may have been introduced and now his second film as director and lead cements this status. Maestro shares the captivating life of legendary American composer and conductor, Leonard Bernstein, utilizing an impressionistic style that achieves a challenging task —distinguishing itself from conventional biographical films.

Maestro reveals itself in the gorgeous black and white, square aspect ratio and lush romantic style of its years before it digs deeper into the expanded, quite colorful life of Bernstein. The artistic flair continues from the symphonic emotions of early relationships to its dizzying climax that makes last year's Tar (2022) seem suddenly tame.

Cooper stars in the lead role as he did in 2018's A Star Is Born. Similarly to that film with Lady Gaga, he gives the most powerful scenes to his female co-lead, Carey Mulligan (Promising Young Woman, Drive, An Education) as actress Felicia Montealegre and wife of Bernstein. This is not a typical "wife" part as Mulligan delivers the most emotionally demanding scenes of her stellar career.

As someone who has overplayed his CD of Leonard Bernstein's New York, I was curious to learn the story of the man who brought us West Side Story's unforgettable score. Unexpectedly for me, the film takes a distinctly personal approach, delving into the intricacies of Bernstein and Montealegre's marriage. While we catch glimpses of the virtuoso in action on the podium, which Bradley Cooper tackles with fervor, I wanted a deeper exploration of the man responsible for West Side Story, Candide, and the most monumental symphonies of the last century.

That being said, and reviewing the film they decided to make, Maestro unfolds as a compelling narrative of an unsettling relationship, probing the fundamental question of what love truly is and whether various manifestations of it can unveil something transcendent.

From the sweeping youthfulness of their meet-cute to an On The Town-inspired musical flourish (that somehow Cooper pulls off) to their revelations to each other, as a Macy's Thanksgiving Parade float passes by their window, Maestro stands as an indelible portrayal of two lives intricately intertwined.

Cooper, hidden in both prosthetics and a talented transformation, is almost miscast as I found myself observing his disappearance into character and director choices for his own close-ups multiple times. Luckily, the success of the full film nullifies that critique.

In a nutshell: Cooper orchestrates this personal story with high style and a bravado performance as both actor and director.

Where to watch it: In theaters now, where it should be seen and heard. On Netflix December 20. Caution: it's not a holiday movie.

Would it be better with Olivia Colman: Of course.

Award potential: This film will do well at Golden Globes where Cooper is famously adored, but will continue on through SAG and Oscars in acting roles. Cooper's competition is tight for director when pitted against Scorsese Nolan and Gerwig — but I believe this daring vision-realized will land nominations for Oscar's Best Picture, Director, Screenplay, Actor and Actress.

The Ten Buck Review: Worth ten bucks.