Maria

I have to say director Pablo Larrain's 2024 entry into his iconic 20th-century women trilogy was a disappointment. It starts with the casting as Angelina Jolie may be too iconic herself to portray supreme diva Maria Callas, the least remembered of the trio, the other two being "Jackie" (2016) and Diana in "Spencer" (2021). Jolie conveys the necessary self-possession to carry off the regal image of the world's greatest opera singer, but physically she looks too skeletal to emulate convincingly the more robust figure Callas struck. Written by Steven Knight, the lugubrious, longish film covers the last week of Callas's life in 1977 Paris, a fictionalized account with inevitable flashbacks that cumulatively plays out like a ghost story. All the production elements like the burnished cinematography and set details are impressively handled, but Larrain's creative choices are more arguable, for example, the hallucinogenic images of choruses of people singing back to her in public spaces. There is the ambiguous role of an interviewer (opaquely played by Kodi Smit-McPhee) with the same name as her prescription medication who forces her to confront her legacy. Some of the flashbacks signal more intriguing elements to her story like her rather inchoate relationship with Aristotle Onassis, her traumatizing encounters with Nazis when she was a child, and an intriguing conversation with JFK (played by Caspar Phillipson cast in the same, somewhat inconsequential role in "Jackie"). Her cloistered existence is leavened only by two devoted servants played poignantly by Pierfrancesco Favina and Alba Rohrwacher. Still Jolie's star power has a showcase befitting of her singular talent to convey hubris and vulnerability at almost the same time.

I understand the criticism of this movie. The lip synching was indeed terrible. And the writer and director did Callas a personal disservice by focusing on this part of her life, when she was crazy and high and alone. But I don't believe a biopic has a responsibility to show a person's entire life. It can show a portion, if meaningful and true - which this was, even if it was unflattering. The sad decay of a brilliant life is a story worth telling, and this was told with tenderness.

The flashbacks could have added more value and depth by following a linear plot, showing the arc of Callas's career, her great love story and the many sides of her personality. They could have done more to educate viewers about who she was, the complexity of her character and her artistic process. But the director chose instead to play her life back as her own mind might have in those last few days: fragmented, intense last gasps. We see her grapple with pride and regret, asking herself if it was all enough. It's as much a movie about the act of dying as it is about her, and for that I found it beautiful.

Jolie did better than I expected, and I even think she looked like Callas in the black and white scenes. Too beautiful, but Jolie possesses a similar woundedness that translated certain elements sufficiently. While she captured Callas's tortured and demure sides, she did not capture her charisma, temper or ruthless perfectionism. It was a valiant attempt at a role no one could have played perfectly. Callas was untouchable in life, and knowing she still is in death made me love her even more.

In short, the movie was imperfect but its intention was sincere. A deep love for Callas came through that made it worth watching, if you can focus on the story being told instead of the story you wish were being told.

The surprise of this glum biopic is at the end credits that show the real Maria Callas. And she's smiling! She's laughing! She's even...gasp...having fun!! Amazing, since, with the exception of a scene toward the end where she's playing cards with her butler and cook, you can get old waiting for a light moment from this misery fest. And when director Pablo Lorrain isn't drowning you in doom (the film should have been titled "Death In Paris") scenarist Steven Knight is showering you with pretension in dialogue that is excessively florid even by the standards of folks who make their living in opera.

So once again we have a biopic of a creative near genius without the creativity or the genius. Just endless self pity and self destruction. If it were not for the considerable acting talents of Ms. Jolie this thing would be utterly unwatchable. Well, that's not really true. Cinematographer Ed Lachman's beautiful evocation of the city of light makes it eminently watchable. And the music, of course, is heart breakingly lovely. But then Lorraine and Knight have to go and muck things up again with their relentless rain cloud of a movie. Give it a C plus.

Just watched the film at a film festival. Our entire group was disappointed by what we watched.

The story line was paper thin to us, focused on the last part of her life, with major parts of the history around how events tied together left out. We would move from one scene to another without a clear link between sequences.

The focus seemed to center around Jolie posing for us, rather removed of the charm of the real Maria. I get it - Angelina is gorgeous but where was the spark?

I never felt like I connected with the characters and didn't feel bought into the film. There was a hollowness to this version of Maria Callas.

At the end of the film, as the end credits start, there are scenes of the real Maria Callas - full of personality and charisma - which were unfortunately not portrayed in Jolie's performance.

Gorgeous costume designs but that was it for me.

I am sure this film was made with great care and love, BUT what it lacked the most of, in my opinion is BREATH.

Opera singers learn how to controle their breath so to captivate ours. And I agree with the other less favourable reviews that the opening scene really was a bad example of lip-synching particularly because I could not see ms Jolie breathe!

Of course La Callas lived a glamorous life but to me the focus seemed to be more directed towards the visual in this movie.

This is a film that made me stop watching it to the end, and I am sorry for it. I too had high hopes for these two iconic ladies.