CALLAS AS TOLD BY DIRECTOR PABLO LARRAÍN
A year after his fantasy film about dictator Augusto Pinochet (The Count), the most famous of film biographers tackles a legend of classical music, Maria Callas. A portrayal of the singer's life, sublimely brought to life by Angelina Jolie's understated performance.
After Jackie (about Jackie Kennedy) in 2016 and Spencer (about Lady Diana) in 2021, Chilean director Pablo Larraín turns his attention in Maria to another iconic figure of the second half of the 20th century: the legendary opera singer Maria Callas (1923-1977). This film concludes his biographical trilogy. Especially since, in this personal account of Callas, we almost encounter Jackie on several occasions, as one of the important men in Maria Callas's life was the Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis, the second husband of President Kennedy's widow. Moreover, as a subtle nod to this connection, we even see Kennedy, played by the same actor (Caspar Phillipson) in both films. This is the Larraín cinematic universe.
Maria begins with the diva's death one September day in her Parisian apartment. In the present day, Larraín's eleventh film then recounts her final days in the capital, surrounded by her butler (Pierfrancesco Favino) and her maid (Alba Rohrwacher), who love and watch over her like an adopted family. We witness the suffering of the singer's tumultuous end, her addiction to medication, her hallucinations, her desperate attempt to regain her voice, and her profound loneliness. With its disjointed flashbacks and (fake) archival footage, Maria's style is reminiscent of Mathieu Amalric's highly successful Barbara (2017), another biopic about a prominent voice.
Like the French director, Pablo Larraín offers us, rather than a futile attempt at an exhaustive biopic, an evocation of the life and persona of his heroine. Angelina Jolie is not made up to look like Maria Callas, and while there is a certain resemblance, one might be surprised, at the beginning of the film, to recognize primarily the features of the American actress. But cinema is a pact of illusion. Wigs and other digital effects are unnecessary: we quickly accept having before our eyes a calm and weary diva, sad and melancholic. A dignified and subtle role, perfectly suited to its interpreter.
Similarly, Paris isn't always Paris. Sometimes, Maria seems to be walking the streets of another city that resembles it somewhat, but not quite. And for good reason: some scenes were filmed in Hungary. Like the interior of that magnificent theater just steps from her apartment in the 16th arrondissement, with its organ and neoclassical architecture, where the opera singer comes to rehearse every day. It represents an unnamed theater, but there's no point looking for it on the streets of the Left Bank: it's the Budapest Opera House (for the exterior) and the Academy of Music (for the interior). But Pablo Larraín's film never pretends to be anything other than fiction.
Even the actual shots of Paris, featuring the Eiffel Tower or the Pont Alexandre III, mostly resemble those slightly outdated 1970s postcards you find in the booksellers' stalls along the Seine. A vintage Paris for a vintage icon. There have already been numerous documentaries about Callas, including the excellent recent Maria by Callas (2017) by Tom Volf. But this latest film is different. It's a kind of tribute to Maria Callas, akin to a poem. Like an aria.
MARIA DE PABLO LARRAÍN
RELEASED IN THEATERS ON FEBRUARY 5, 2025
