‘Maria’: Pablo Larraín Paints a Melancholic Portrait of Maria Callas Through a Towering Angelina Jolie

Alci Rengifo

The greatest among us can sometimes be complete enigmas. We would like to know what makes them tick. There may be clues along the way, but it can remain as mysterious as the nature of talent itself. Chilean auteur Pablo Larraín likes to be an observer of such mysteries when he profiles famous women. His “Maria” imagines the final days of opera icon Maria Callas like an eyewitness to the slow, flickering fade of a giant. As with his other portraits, psychological moods matter more than a strict loyalty to the facts. The true life of this film is Angelina Jolie in an admirable performance as Callas. The real woman was a famous force of nature and Jolie prefers to channel Callas for this role rather than imitate. This is her Maria Callas and the role proves more intriguing than the film’s sparse script.

As if believing history is already a spoiler, Larraín opens on Sept. 16, 1977, when Callas is found dead in her Paris home. He then loops back to days shortly before her death to build up to that fateful heart attack. The Greek-American diva we meet, known as La Callas to admirers, feels past her prime. She has not performed in a long while and spends her time reminiscing on the past, surrounded by her butler Ferruccio (Pierfrancesco Favino) and housemaid Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher). Ferruccio is loyal and kind but annoys Callas by keeping track of her pill intake, while pushing her to see a doctor. She is more absorbed by the arrival of a documentary filmmaker, Mandrax (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who wants to do a deep set of interviews chronicling her life. He also happens to be named after one of the medications she is currently taking. While speaking with Mandrax, Callas wanders Paris and loses herself in a haze of memories, many intensely focused on her years-long love affair with Greek tycoon Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer).

Presumably, “Maria” caps what is meant to be a unique trilogy about famous 20th century women by Larraín. His last two were “Jackie,” about Jackie Kennedy (Natalie Portman) in the wake of her husband’s assassination, and “Spencer,” starring Kristen Stewart as Princess Diana enduring Christmas with the royals. It says something that each film received a Best Actress Oscar nomination with Jolie nearly guaranteed one for her work here. “Maria” departs from the others by focusing on a great artist as opposed to a figure of political power. Larraín, himself an opera fan, takes on a more sumptuous approach in imagining his subject’s environment. Everything looks like a stage in Callas’ world, from her gorgeous home to the rich outer Parisian surroundings. Flashbacks gorgeously recreate her performances before returning to the colder reality of her lonelier twilight. One standout sequence, shot sensuously by cinematographer Edward Lachman, has Callas and others standing in the rain in the wardrobe of “Madame Butterfly.” As expected, great music cocoons this film but expressively. Selections of Callas recordings of “Casta diva” and “O mio babbino caro” are not mere highlights but soundscapes of her emotional state. 

The flow of this film helps mask its shortcomings. “Maria” is far from an actual biopic. You already have to know the history to comprehend the references and names floating around the story. A good place to start is the immersive 2017 documentary “Maria by Callas” by Tom Volf, which captures in grandiose fashion the larger than life personality and biography of the diva. Larraín also tends to be a rather cold director, prone to composing gorgeous images while seeming content to just display his subjects. His Callas suffers from being on a pedestal, while torturing herself with insecurities and the lasting scars of her affair with Onassis. She goes to a bar and demands the owner not play one of her records, because she cannot stand their technical perfection when music should be sung from the gut, in the moment. At attempted rehearsals that authenticity escapes her, something is keeping La Callas locked in. Only small glimpses hint at her infamous moments, as when a tourist walks up to her in an outdoor café and casually reveals she cancelled a performance he had purchased tickets for. The real Callas did indeed suffer from nerves and exhaustion, famously walking out of a Rome performance that dogged her career for years. She was also a tigress with a hot temper, though the Callas in “Maria” is the subdued aftermath. 

Where there is heart in the film revolves around Callas and Onassis. Monochrome flashbacks show us the famous Greek tycoon pursuing Callas at first like a trophy, shamelessly inviting her to a boat party despite knowing both she and him are already married. Nothing is explored about her first marriage to Giovanni Battista Meneghini (Alessandro Bressanello), who can only look on helplessly while the charming shipping magnate pounces on his famous spouse. Onassis, played with fun accuracy by Turkish actor Haluk Bilginer, boasts that he knows he is ugly, but he always gets what he wants, even if he has to steal it. Surrounded constantly by pressure and adoration, Callas likes the cocky yet down to earth approach of Onassis. Of course, we all know he will later cast his eye on another famous woman, Jacqueline Kennedy. There’s an apocryphal scene where Callas meets President John F. Kennedy (Caspar Phillipson) in a cafe, never intimidated by who he is and chopping him down to size when she learns Onassis has already invited Jackie to his boat. Callas was sober about the world but was also a blazing romantic at heart, as anyone who has read her love letters can attest. Heartbreak was something truly ruinous for her psyche. 

It is Jolie through her eyes and measured, powerful delivery that keeps “Maria” engaging beyond Larraín’s combination of melancholic and lush visuals. A woman who has also known great fame and the fright of the pedestal, you can sense Jolie very much connecting at least with this version of Callas. She trained for months to do some vocals, though real recordings of the prima donna are flawlessly used as well. What the script by Steven Knight, who penned “Spencer,” doesn’t say, Jolie brings across fully. A wonderful highlight is the moment Onassis is dying in bed and Callas pays him a final visit, openly sharing about their love and the strange, confusing choices we make in life that go against what makes more sense. Onassis can’t bring himself to really explain why he married Jackie Kennedy and Callas can only accept fate. In fittingly operatic fashion, it all crescendos with Callas singing in a final, hallucinatory performance where all she has left to do is express it all through what made her famous. Such moments are rare but memorable in “Maria.” Larraín’s film may fall short of a completely satisfying experience. We don’t need clichés like the documentarian who may turn out to be a mere figment. Yet, its sketches are always intriguing. Maria Callas deserves her broader story to be told in all its operatic glory, but she was also human, and being human, even at great heights, can get very lonely.

“Maria” begins streaming Dec. 11 on Netflix.