The butler remembers a normal day. Just one. We even know the date: it was in 1964. There were no more, apparently. Because living next to his beloved “Madame”, as she calls it in the film, means subscribing to the extraordinary. Absolute triumphs, some resounding failures. Ecstasy, collapse. Adored legend, an unrepeatable soprano, an all-powerful goddess. But also an insecure, fragile woman, disappointed by the one who was supposed to take care of her. A volcano of talent, strength and pain, always boiling over.
There were thousands of extraordinary days in the 53 years that the greatest diva in the history of opera spent on Earth. Her entire existence, in a way, was straight out of a movie. Mariaby Pablo Larraín, presented this Thursday in competition at the Venice Film Festival, chooses the epilogue: September 1977, Paris. When the voice that enamored him already betrays him. And the ovations of the theater are in his head. He confuses reality and fiction, perhaps he needs to mix them. Although deep down he knows the truth: it’s over. At the end of the screening for the press, the room was filled with applause. The film, the filmmaker, and its protagonist deserved it. Actress Angelina Jolie has long since become unmistakable. But here she manages to make the only thing that matters on screen visible: Callas.
Maybe, where it closes Mariaa new era begins for Jolie. Or, at least, a season of award nominations. She won three consecutive Golden Globes, between 1997 and 1999. But she was nominated for worst performer for four consecutive Razzies, between 2002 and 2005. At a certain point, the spotlight that followed her wherever she worked began to focus on other matters. Perhaps because of some failed film project. Because of her humanitarian missions with the UN. Because of the courage with which, in 2013, she revealed in an article in The New York Times who had undergone a preventive double mastectomy and breast reconstruction on medical advice. Because of her marriage and six children with Brad Pitt – who will also be attending the Mostra, days after she left. And then, because of the cross-claims that are still pending between the two after the divorce, which include the physical abuse that Jolie claims to have suffered at the hands of her ex-husband.
In Venice, there was only talk of art: cinema and opera. And of the return of a great actress, perhaps with her most complicated role. Certainly, the most ambitious in more than a decade. “In recent years, I have needed to spend more time at home with my family. And I have developed a gratitude towards the fact of being an artist, of being in this creative sector,” Jolie acknowledged in the morning in the press room, which cheered her. Although the greatest recognition came from Larraín: “Without her, this film could not have existed.”
The first question immediately pointed to possible awards for Jolie. But she was more interested in another verdict: “I didn’t want to disappoint this woman, her memory or the one who loved her.” To do so, she dedicated seven months of training to be able to sing opera. And she confessed that this responsibility made her nervous, even trembling. Her first performance was in a small room, in front of her children, with “the doors closed.” The last, at the Scala in Milan. Quite a journey for someone who, as a young girl, listened mainly to the punk of The Clash. The performer also learned from recordings of classes that Callas herself gave: “She said that you have to be disciplined and practice a lot the work as you have decided. And only at the end, when you are ready, can the character and the emotion come in. I tried to do something I had never done before.”
Jolie was the most questioned. She said she tried to go beyond the familiar Callas. The negative connotation she attributed to the word “diva” has changed thanks to the soprano. And, asked about the points of contact between herself and her character, she declared: “There are so many things I cannot say in this room… You can imagine them. I think I share with her above all her vulnerability.”
Faced with Jolie’s expected return, Larraín was rather returning home: he has become accustomed to the Venice festival. And, also, to bringing to the Lido his peculiar portrait of famous icons. Jackie Kennedy, Diana of Wales. Now, Maria Callas. He explained that he always admired her, while at the same time he was intrigued by her figure and the relative scarcity of feature films about her, or the opera: “How to make a film where the main character becomes a sum of the tragedies she recounted?”
The answer, again, is to avoid the most traveled path. They are named La traviata, Anne Boleyn. And, of course, that unexpected replacement in The Puritansin 1949, which marked the beginning of her climb towards eternity. Her ex-partner Aristotle Onassis and her troubled mother appear, her abortion is mentioned, as is her struggle with her physical appearance and weight, her Greek roots and her ties to Italy. All of this is part of the legend. “You are Callas,” they repeat to her like a mantra in the film. The Chilean wants to find out what it meant. Luck, but also condemnation.
Maria It tells of the loneliness of a woman surrounded by the public; the inner struggle of a fading star; the humanity and the wounds that stages and flashes They don’t see. A slow decline, like the rhythm of the film. The repetition of situations can even become boring: it serves, however, to infect one with what she felt. The photography, the staging and the soundtrack push the spectator into Callas’s mind. No matter how hard she struggles, the fall becomes inevitable.
Just as she accepts the end, the artist sings her aria freer: “My mother forced me to sing. Onassis forbade me. Now I sing for myself.” “Happiness never produced a beautiful opera,” she says at another point. So many years giving her life to grand stages; now act in the kitchen of her house and only her obedient servant applauds: “Magnificent!” But that was also the myth. At the end of the feature film, archive images of Callas parade. Although the greatest homage is projected before: trying to tell the truth.
The race for the Golden Lion has also revealed another particular vision on Thursday. The jockeyby Luis Ortega, has arrived with the blessing of the artistic director of the Mostra, Alberto Barbera: “One of the most original voices in contemporary Argentine cinema.” Indeed, the feature film proposes an unusual plot and vision: a rider caught between his desire to self-destruct and the mafia to which his career is linked.
The filmmaker starts off with a fast pace, dancing, a desire to entertain and surprise. And, little by little, beneath the artifice, the real theme emerges: the search for identity. “How many times do you have to die to free yourself from yourself,” Ortega told the press. The jockeyhowever, promises more than it delivers. And it ends up being a convincing, accomplished story, but more conventional than expected. Its intention to bring together two other identities is praiseworthy, and unusual: authorial and commercial. Although perhaps the most important thing about the film and the director was said by the Spanish co-star, Úrsula Corberó: “It has changed my life, really.” That is truly unique.
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