by Elisa Giudici
MARIA © Pablo Larraín
MARIA by Pablo Larrain
In Pablo Larraín’s unofficial trilogy of melancholic 20th-century female icons, Maria finds itself positioned somewhere in the middle. Maria is better than Spencer but falls short of Jackie's excellence...
What ultimately holds the film back is the very element that likely secured its production and will likely linger in the public consciousness: Angelina Jolie's portrayal of Maria Callas. The movie star never fully convinces as she struggles with the mimicry required to capture Callas, failing to evoke her essence. The most telling sign of this miscast is that Jolie never fully disappears into the role. Instead, we’re constantly reminded of Jolie herself, the modern-day diva, rather than becoming absorbed in the Divine Callas. Moreover, Jolie seems unable to convey a crucial aspect of Callas’s character—a woman who was once unattractive and overweight, who transformed into a swan yet continued to carry the insecurities and self-reproach of her past. Jolie, by contrast, embodies someone for whom beauty has always been a given.
In moments where Jolie's performance does become more convincing, it’s often due to the strong presence of those around her, like the highly effective Turkish actor Haluk Bilginer as Aristotle Onassis or Kodi Smit-McPhee as an unconventional journalist. At some point, it will be worth examining the role of journalism in Larraín’s American films, especially how the journalist extracting the protagonist's true confession becomes a mythical figure, transcending the usual conventions of the profession.
MARIA © Pablo Larraín
It’s a pity about the miscasting because everything else in the biopic is truly exceptional. Steven Knight, who is known for either spectacular successes or failures, nails it here with a suggestive, allusive screenplay filled with rich, sophisticated, and memorable dialogue. Edward Lachman’s inspired cinematography—following his triumph with El Conde—bathes Jolie in a soft golden light, contrasted with cold, precise black-and-white scenes. Most notable, though, is Larraín’s meticulous direction. He has become a master at elevating films that might otherwise falter without his touch. In this film, he even takes on the role of camera operator, demonstrating his expertise in movement and angle. The opening shot alone, where the camera gracefully crosses the threshold of an elegant Parisian living room filled with characters whose significance only becomes clear later, showcases Larraín's absolute skill as a storyteller.
What makes the film even more fascinating is its subtle connections to the other two in the trilogy. There’s a scene where Maria Callas meets JFK, and the two realize together that their respective spouses are cheating on them. There’s even a brief appearance by Jacqueline Kennedy (not played by Natalie Portman). Add to this the involvement of the Onassis family, which is inevitably linked to the final chapter of Diana Spencer's life, and the film becomes an intriguing piece of the puzzle in what could be called the 'Larraín Cinematic Universe'.
POOJA, SIR. Official Still.
POOJA, SIR by Deepak Rauniyar
This might sound like a flaw, but it’s actually an indirect compliment: one of the clear limitations of the Nepali film Pooja, Sir is that it’s unmistakably a product of a place without a deeply rooted cinematic tradition. The lack of infrastructure might hinder those striving to make an ambitious film.
Director Deepak Rauniyar looks to Hollywood for inspiration, adopting the established cinematic language familiar to filmmakers and audiences alike. Musically and thematically, Pooja, Sir adheres to the conventions of genre: a tough, incorruptible cop fights to save innocent lives and ensure justice isn't manipulated by the powerful. Here's the twist: the cop is a lesbian woman, buzz haircut and masculine appearance, who insists on being called "sir."
The film carries a palpable urgency to tell a story about the systemic discrimination affecting the Madhesi people, an ethnic group marginalized by the rest of the population. While Rauniyar's movie may lack the nuance to explore complex questions about the nature of justice and the challenges of identifying the true victim in certain situations, it compensates for that with heartfelt commitment. Cinematically, Pooja, Sir has its limitations but the portrait it paints of Nepal is compelling and worth watching.