Maestro
Directed by Bradley Cooper
Written by Bradley Cooper and Josh Singer
Starring Bradley Cooper, Carey Mulligan, Matt Bomer, Maya Hawke
Rated R
Runtime: 2 hours, 9 minutes
In theaters November 22, On Netflix December 20 

by Ryan Silberstein, Managing Editor, Red Herring

Maestro, the Leonard Bernstein biopic directed and co-written by Bradley Cooper–who also stars as the titular character–is almost aggressive in stating its themes. If only the rest of the work lived up to its stated mission. Early on, when Lenny first meets Felicia (Carey Mulligan), his future wife, he reviews both of their ethnic and economic backgrounds. He says they are both “composites” and that they may struggle because “the world wants us to be only one thing.” Sadly, Maestro is as reductive to its subject as he feared. 

Firstly, the things not featured: composing West Side Story, Bernstein’s symphonies, Young People’s Concerts television program, and his political leanings. Those coming to Maestro with limited knowledge of Bernstein’s work (looking at you, fellow Millennial Tár fans) won’t leave feeling more illuminated about it. When you learn that Cooper spent six years learning how to conduct music to prep for this movie, that effort seems wasted. There are some great musical moments–including a dance number from Fancy Free/On the Town, and snippets from Bernstein’s oeuvre scattered throughout–but not enough. As we see late in the film, Bernstein worried about classical music fading out of the culture within his own lifetime, and sadly, Maestro will not even register as any sort of corrective about why his works are important. 

Rather, this story focuses almost entirely on the relationship between Bernstein and his wife. That is absolutely a valid approach for a biopic, as focusing on the domestic life of Neil Armstrong in the shadow of his mission to the moon worked well for Josh Singer’s First Man script. Here the execution is severely lacking. The biggest glaring issue is that Cooper and Singer use Bernstein’s sexuality as a synecdoche for every issue in the composer’s life and marriage. He is depicted as a polyamorous bisexual, demonstrating a clear physical attraction to Felicia over the entire course of their marriage, but also having repeated physical affection for men from the opening scene through to the end. Again, none of that is a problem by itself but conflating Bernstein’s infidelity and his bisexuality is problematic, conforming to well-trod biphobia rather than fully exploring both sides of his marriage. When Felicia voices her concerns to Lenny or his sister (Sarah Silverman), it is framed as her understanding that her husband needs to have affairs with men in order to have some sense of fulfillment. That may be sore spot for Felicia, but when an argument happens during the Thanksgiving Day parade, she complains that ‘he takes up all the oxygen in every room,’ suggesting that her issues in their marriage are far more than just his need for other partners. But these other issues are never visibly dramatized. We see Lenny and Felicia being romantic and seemingly happy until we don’t. There’s very little narrative arc being suggested, and the effect is an oversimplified and traditional view of someone who was both complicated and progressive.

But we never hear this from Bernstein himself. He never comments, only ever acknowledging these affairs in vague terms and almost always in reaction to Felicia’s pleas for him to be discreet. She doesn’t want their children to know, even as their oldest daughter Jamie (Maya Hawke) is plagued by rumors and gossip about her father. No oxygen is given to Bernstein’s inner turmoil over his need to be closeted, or how it may have impacted his work. Unlike Priscilla, this isn’t all told from Felicia’s perspective, so it feels like a deliberate choice to exclude them. Bernstein feels flattened here, and thus the last few segments of the film–which ought to be the most impactful–provoke more comedic irony than empathy.