Lydia Tár… Prodigious woman. Renowned conductor. Selfish manipulator. Abuser of power. Tár tells the story of Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) as she prepares to record Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 with the Berlin Orchestra. Through the process, we see the self-inflicted unraveling of both her professional and personal life, caused by her belittling and controlling tendencies.
Tár on Tár
Cate Blanchett is at the top of her game in Tár. She embodies Lydia Tár with a masterful performance of both fiery passion and quiet scheming— emotionally and physically constructing a character with a superiority complex that will stop at nothing to get what she wants. This, of course, is largely due to the over-the-top snobbish writing, that nails the pretention of the character on the head. Blanchett not only takes that and allows it to work, but she conducts herself in perfect harmony with it— bringing the script to crescendo to incredible heights.
When I claim that Blanchett embodies Tár, I don’t say that lightly. The woman I watched on that screen was not Blanchett playing a character. She was Lydia Tár. I rarely see a performance so nuanced, that is so intentional in every word, gaze, and breath. Her tongue gracefully delivers expertise and bullshit alike with exquisite flourish; her eyes hide a past full of secrets; her hands wield rhythm like a weapon. And her whole body emphatically explodes with emotion in the company of music.
Tár the Manipulator
Lydia Tár is a talented conductor, but I’d argue a bigger talent is her affinity with words— specifically ones that inflate her own ego. From the very beginning we see a woman who speaks with eloquence and loftiness, not just because she needs to for precision of language, but because it helps her present herself as better than those listening. One of my favorite scenes in the whole movie sees Tár teaching a masterclass at Juilliard. Every single word, body expression, and camera movement, works in incredible harmony to create a sparring match with— no… a belittling of a student. It’s one of the best displays of the cacophony of Tár’s presented values, clashing with her own hypocrisy.
What transpires from that point on is an increasing realization of Tár’s internal calculating. There is always a selfish scheme behind her eyes, waiting for the right moment to say the right thing, for nobody else’s advantage but her own. She puts on a display of power and poise (and once, an act of weakness) to stay in control of every scenario. This is key in both her career and her marriage, but a more unexpected sad part is in her role as a mother.
Lydia seemingly doesn’t spend as much time looking after her daughter, Petra, as her wife does— but one of the few times she does in the film, she attempts to stop one of Petra’s bullies at school with a show of power. Is it warranted? Yes. Does she love Petra? I believe so, yes. But the way in which she does it, I can’t help but feel it was because of the rush she gets in belittling others— kicking them down into the dust beneath her. It left a big impact on me, because while it may have been out of love for Petra, it may have been evenmore predominantly ego-driven.
Tár the Haunted
As the preparation for the recording of Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 continues, Tár’s place in the limelight is put in jeopardy due to poor personal choices that have intertwined with her career— leading to a rapid downward spiral. As she’s dealing with the turmoil that she has less and less control over, she is faced with ongoing auditory hallucinations, mysterious occurrences, and weird dreams.
Her guilt (or perhaps the lack of) starts manifesting itself in these ways, psychologically haunting her. This added another dimension to an already thriving drama— one that I felt I could read into even more, upon repeat viewings of the film. Even if you don’t understand those parts of Tár, you’ll no doubt be able to appreciate when the film comes to a close with a final scene that is a killer punchline. It’s one of the most well executed— and hilarious— endings in a movie in a long while.
I’ve covered mostly everything, but there’s one more thing to go back and examine… and it’s going to sound outlandish. Remember when I mentioned the hallucinations?… the psychological manifestations of her guilt? The haunting? I say haunting for a reason. The more you read into the movie— the more you view it— the more you examine things closely… it appears to actually be a ghost story. This isn’t just a baseless theory I’m projecting onto the film. Look closely, and there will continue to be more dimensions to Tár than you had previously thought. It’s one of the most creative ghost stories I’ve seen, as it doesn’t present itself as one… but it’s there.
‘Tár’ – Final Thoughts
This film is truly a masterpiece. A ghost story wrapped in a comedy, wrapped in a drama— Tár seamlessly blends a character study with subtle comedic elements and spooky undertones, which altogether presents a perfect meta-commentary on power, manipulation, and guilt in the modern world. Blanchett delivers a career-best performance (dare I say, Oscar-deserving?) that brings gravitas and poise to an already masterfully written script. Unless you have a strong aversion to dramas, I cannot recommend enough for you to get Tár-pilled.
Tár is available to stream on Peacock in the US, and is in theaters in the UK. Check out the trailer below!
