Maybe what they mean is that it’s unbelievable. More than one critic has noted how unusually melodramatic this moment seems. He pays her no mind, not even as she rushes the stage, tackling the hack they’ve brought in to replace her. And now, somehow, we are backstage at the climactic performance, and somehow Lydia is there too, standing next to the trumpeter while he fanfares. She loses her position, loses her chance at the Fifth. Sharon kicks her out and withholds their daughter. Olga abandons her at her hotel for someone more fun. Protesters picket her poorly attended reading in New York. We are in Lydia Tár’s point of view now, in her subjective space, and all is unraveling with shocking speed, including possibly her mind. She loses the support of her foundation, her access to a private jet. Her performance score for Mahler’s Fifth disappears without explanation. A story in the New York Post accuses her of grooming multiple young women. “Right from the first moment, I know exactly what time it is,” she says, with supreme confidence, “and the exact moment that you and I will arrive at our destination together.” In the film’s final act, Lydia loses that right arm, loses her confident control over time, and a film that was up till now conducted at adagietto, like the slow movement of Mahler’s Fifth, picks up.Ī video of a charged encounter at Juilliard goes viral, oddly edited from multiple perspectives, even though no one in that rehearsal room seemed to have a phone out. It’s that right arm, Lydia tells Adam Gopnik at the film’s beginning, that marks time.
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