‘Maestro’ Review: Bradley Cooper’s Leonard Bernstein Biopic Is an Unconventional Work of Art

Gustav Mahler debuted his second symphony, The Resurrection, in 1895. Leonard Bernstein conducted the work with the London Symphony Orchestra and Edinburgh Festival Chorus at Ely Cathedral in England in 1974. And in 2023, Bradley Cooper's film Maestro tore the roof off the newly remodeled David Geffen Hall at New York's Lincoln Center with a powerhouse, show-stopping sequence highlighting this triumph at the 61st Annual New York Film Festival. 

For all who were there, in the same room where Bernstein reigned as the American emperor of symphonic music for decades, our molecules shook as newly installed state-of-the-art Dolby Atmos speakers throttled the undulating beechwood panels that surround the venue with Mahler's triumphant notes set to the words "rise again, yes, rise again." As Bernstein once described Hector Berlioz's Symphony Fantastique, it was a trip.

Cooper's Maestro, which most people will see at home on Netflix, is an unusual biopic. Besides the aforementioned performance at Ely Cathedral and his fateful understudy call-up in 1943, most of his most famous accomplishments go unrepresented here. There's no opening night gala of West Side Story, no monocle-dropping lecture comparing the Beatles to the canon of Western Classical music, no radical chic fundraiser for the Black Panther Party, no performance of Beethoven's Ode to Joy where the Berlin Wall once stood. Leonard Bernstein, the great composer, conductor, educator and bon vivant, is too good for the Wikipedia-style movie, and Bradley Cooper, who directed this film, co-wrote it with Josh Singer, co-produced it with legends like Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese and also plays the lead, is too nurturing of Bernstein's spirit to saddle him with one.

On the one hand, this is yet another movie about a tormented genius, but it has such a light touch it takes a moment to get on its wavelength. Bernstein is a man torn in two. Publicly, he was the great interpreter of Serious Music™ but also composed his own work. Furthermore, that work is split between more complex compositions and tuneful Broadway fare for popular audiences.

Privately, there was another battle — should he be a loving family man to his wife Felicia (Carey Mulligan) and three children (Maya Hawke, Sam Nivola and Alexa Swinton) or indulge as a libertine gay man in New York society? Early in their relationship, Felicia says she understands who Lenny is, and we presume an arrangement is made. But as time marches on (and Lenny frequently fails to be "discreet"), the relationship becomes frayed. 

Weirdly, very little of this is actually made explicit on screen. Maestro trusts the audience to fill in the ellipses and pay close attention.

Pros:

Cons:

Luckily, there's hardly a moment that isn't fascinating, and Cooper cuts together these observational scenes with long takes, few close-ups and overlapping dialogue. (Should you hear a film buff compare Cooper's second feature to the late Robert Altman, it is not altogether inapt!) It is also rip-roaring hilarious at times, like when a hungover Leonard Bernstein bursts into his corner apartment on Central Park West holding a stuffed animal and demanding to know, "Who abandoned Snoopy in the vestibule?!?"

While the movie does have a smidge of name-dropping early on (Aaron Copland, Jerome Robbins, Betty Comden and Adolph Green get some quickie cameos), Maestro doesn't actually have as much music in it as you might think, and not one of the typical speeches about, say, what makes Bach or Brahms so mesmerizing. 

Holding back on watching Bernstein conduct — a full-body contortionist's sport involving buckets of sweat and orgasmic faces — is an intellectual gambit that pays off. Imagine not showing the shark in Jaws until he finally arrives and swallows up the whole screen. 

Cooper really is terrific in the movie, beyond simply mimicking the great man to perfection. Though seldom articulated, his inner sadness plays out on his face, erupting into moments of joy around music or his family.

Equally remarkable is Mulligan, who somehow brings a spin to the played-out part of the put-upon spouse. Like Lenny, she keeps it all bottled in until she doesn't and gets her own blow-out scene — a lengthy single-take that crackles with spontaneity and even shuts the motormouthed Bernstein up for a moment. The two-time Academy Award nominee for Best Actress may as well start looking for her gown now.

There really isn't that much plot to speak of in Maestro, but the scenes of Lenny and Felicia together, and also alone, tell a fascinating story of how someone can simultaneously be loved and tormented. This is something that happens quite a bit in life but is rarely depicted in movies, and certainly not as well as it is done here.

Netflix does not have a surefire crowdpleaser on its hands. I can already hear my disappointed mother calling me, wishing this movie was "normal." But this is a movie about a great artist and, considering how effectively it tells the story in an unconventional way, it is a work of art. 8.8/10

In Theaters: Nov. 22 and on Netflix Dec. 20

Who is in it: Bradley Cooper, Carey Mulligan, Matt Bomer, Maya Hawke, Sarah Silverman, the music of Gustav Mahler

Who is behind it: Bradley Cooper (director and co-writer), Josh Singer (so-writer), Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg (two of several producers), Leonard Bernstein (based on a life lived by)

For fans of: Unusual portraits of great artists

Avoid if: You like your biopics delineated with facts