Venice 2024: Maria
VENICE
Pablo Larraín returns to Venice with a non-biopic on another iconic female public figure, concluding (for now) an ideal trilogy with Jackie and Spencer by depicting famed soprano Maria Callas in the final week of her life.
Struggling with illness – both in body and mind – and still grieving the loss of her voice, Maria embarks on a journey within the recesses of her own mind to make peace with the ghosts of her past and reclaim her story, too often told by others. Under Larraín’s direction, Angelina Jolie gives her all as Callas, managing to strike the difficult balance between being “La Divina” and being, only, human.
Despite what is an incredibly strong performance, with emotions often played out in the nuances of a facial expression, it somehow feels impossible for Jolie to ever truly become Callas, filling the screen with her own presence and reminding the audience at all times precisely who it is they are watching, and compelling them to draw parallels between the two women. Still, the pain of a life lived not wholly on one’s own terms is conveyed, playing beautifully in Maria’s relationship with her lavish Paris apartment and her faithful staff members Ferruccio and Bruna, with excellent performances by Pierfrancesco Favino and Alba Rohrwacher.
The rich but empty apartment, which despite moving the furniture multiple times is never quite right, becomes at once a space of safety and a stifling prison where memories of the past are overwhelmingly present. And yet, the outside world is no safer, as adoration and sharp criticisms can be quick to arrive as sharp blows from audiences who feel entitled to a piece of La Diva and demand compliance with their expectations. Paris only ever truly comes to life in the theatre of Maria’s mind, with orchestras playing and choirs performing arias, all awaiting the return of their prima donna.
The many undoubtedly beautiful shots and great performances contrast sharply with the screenplay, which often feels empty and devoid of substance. Callas has repeatedly been conflated with the characters she played, always only a diva, and she herself only ever appears to feel complete when performing for an audience but although the script goes to great lengths to establish this, it lacks the foundation to build a solid character beyond. Eventually, what lingers after the last note has played is that this endeavour resembles Maria’s apartment: beautiful but ultimately empty.