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In Todd Field’s Tár, DEADLINE.COM/AWARDSLINE

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we meet Lydia Tár, a revered composer-conductor heading up the Berlin Philharmon­ic, played by Cate Blanchett. Nina Hoss, as Lydia’s wife Sharon, is concertmas­ter and first chair violin, and together they navigate the politics of their musical life while parenting their daughter Petra. But Lydia, who is at the top of her game, and readying for her career-pinnacle live recording, begins to self-destruct, forming an obsessive attachment to Olga, a young cellist, just as a troubling past entangleme­nt comes to light. The target of criticism from her students and a New York Post article, Lydia’s staff and Olga desert her. Then Sharon takes flight with Petra, and Lydia finally slides into the demise of both her personal and profession­al life. In conversati­on with Antonia Blyth, Blanchett and Hoss discuss the absence of objective truth, how change is built on open-hearted discussion, and the emergence of art from the raw, painful edge of experience.

You first met at a hotel when you were both by chance in Hungary working on separate projects. Did you talk about Tár then?

CATE BLANCHETT: It was just pure chance, wasn’t it? A little bit like the way this project came together. I sort of felt like we’d already met, but I don’t know that we had. Maybe it’s just because we had so many people in common and so many experience­s in common, so it sort of felt like it was fated somehow.

NINA HOSS: Yeah, I had the same feeling, like we knew each other. I must admit, I did have this one moment, I told Cate already, that I thought, ‘I mean, does she know what I look like?’ I had this moment. But then once that was over and we hugged each other, and it felt like we knew each other already. And I must say, that was like the process. It stayed like that. I had the feeling we feed off the same pot, so to speak. From the interest in theater, coming from theater, the interest in art of any sort, of also being interested in venturing out and working with different people and just expanding yourself in the way of how you want to collaborat­e. And I just felt it’s such a natural flow with each other that I never felt alien... It just felt like, “Yeah, let’s do good. Let’s find everything we can.” I don’t know, what do you think? BLANCHETT: Yeah, I think so. I think it just felt really organic. Our frames of reference, the types of work that we had gravitated towards up until now, had been eclectic and varied and wide-ranging. And I think the thing that I’ve always loved about your work is you’ve got such an amazing sense of ensemble. You, in a deep way, understand what it means to be part of an ensemble and that even the extraordin­ary work you’ve done leading films, like Barbara and all the work you’ve done with Christian Petzold, which I’ve so deeply admired, you’re very clear about your function in the story, and I think that’s the same with your work on stage. And so that’s something I really gravitated toward. And over the course of my career too, it’s like it’s not the size of the role, it’s the being part of the conversati­on. And that’s why it’s so great to create a dialogue with you, it’s because you interrogat­e a story in a really fascinatin­g way that makes me and everyone around you ask really fascinatin­g questions.

How did you build the dynamic between Lydia and Sharon, and how much did Todd discuss it with you versus leaving you to work that out? BLANCHETT: Maybe it’s understand­ing the deeper time, the rehearsal process that one goes through in the theater, that you have weeks and then the length of the run of the performanc­e to continue to layer the dynamics between characters. Not just to work out how you’re going to deliver your performanc­e or who your character is, but to layer the textures between people. And that’s what I love talking to you about, Nina.

In answer to your question, did we start talking about the characters straight away? We sort of did, which enabled us to talk about life and the challenges that we were going through. I mean, that’s the fantastic thing about this story that Todd has woven and the film that he’s created out of it, is that it asks so many enormous questions that the characters are grappling with, but that we’re all grappling with, that we don’t necessaril­y have answers to. And I think that meant that we continued to interrogat­e and ask questions about their relationsh­ip and who they were, who they thought they were. How had their relationsh­ip evolved? How estranged were they from themselves and from each other? And so, it was a continual process of questionin­g, wasn’t it? Todd obviously facilitate­d and set the ball rolling simply by writing the script.

HOSS: Yeah, I think by us both having read the story before we met by accident, and then just having the chance to speak in private, we somehow, without really digging into the characters straight away, we talked around it. I told you a lot about Germany and sometimes my struggles with the hierarchic­al systems and the patriarcha­l systems that we all live in. But Germany has a very specific thing that I can tell you, from this culture, where this story is set. And then on top of it, the classical music world, which is on its own already a very hierarchic­al

system or world. So, we talked about that.

But to find this dynamic between each other, I always felt, Cate was so... The moment she stepped on this podium, in a way, I was able, even during the rehearsals with the orchestra—and that’s how we started the whole film—i saw the whole character in front of me. I saw the beginning, the middle and the end. And I could just watch this Lydia in front of me, and see, what does that evoke in Sharon? Having had all the conversati­ons in Berlin beforehand. So, us meeting in Hungary, then having the rehearsals in Berlin, and Todd joined, and we really dug deep into also the background stories. What is the world all of these characters step out from? And what happened when they met? Why do they meet? Why are they fascinated by each other?

We were terrified, I think, Cate and myself, that we would start [the shoot] with the orchestra. And…

BLANCHETT: …And there we did.

HOSS: But at the end of the day, it was a blessing, I think, because we knew what the center was for both of our characters. It’s the work also, and the passion for the work. And in a way, it’s not so unlike our private selves. I think, I mean, for me, my job is my life also. And I felt the same while being around Cate. That it’s not just something we just do, we are just very passionate about it. We want to defend the characters, the story, the director who has a vision, the people, the ensemble. You’re just very much into it and you are willing to go quite far to get what you look for. And that’s why it felt very natural exploring this relationsh­ip with Cate.

BLANCHETT: And, I think too, because of the way that we met. It was in a moment of estrangeme­nt and crisis, and we were both sort of dislocated from our reality, and Todd wasn’t there. It was just happenstan­ce, chance, that we were able to table our fears and concerns and ask, I think as the audience does, all the quote-unquote dumb questions. We realized very quickly that that’s not what the film’s about. And so, we were able to put that aside and go much deeper into it, I think.

It’s interestin­g you talk about the music, Nina, because I think that was for both of us an enormous, “Ah.” It was like it took our breath away how vast the challenge was. Even though it’s not a film about classical music, it’s so rooted in that world, and there’s a deep authentici­ty that Todd was writing about, where no one was able to hide either from the camera, or from each other, or certainly not from the audience and not from themselves. So, it was very exposing, and it was great to start with that layer of questionin­g immediatel­y, I think. I don’t know about you, Nina, but I was so knocked off-center and startled by the questions, the big questions that the screenplay was grappling with. It was great to start with the minutiae and the seismic nature of it. It meant that the questions that we’re not only asking of the script, but the way that we were talking to one another, felt much more open, I think, than perhaps it would’ve been otherwise.

Of course, these characters, their life is music, it’s making sound. And they had been living in a silent world for almost two years, unable to do the thing that they love. And everyone had been in that place, and we were in that place. We were trying to make work and film our different projects in Budapest, but without any of the joy, or the structures, or the reason why we got into this business in the first place: the community and the connection; your relationsh­ip with all the people that you are working with. People were estranged from one another. So, I mean, you were an absolute life raft for me, Nina.

It’s really interestin­g that Lydia says, “You have to sublimate your ego,” but, ironically, it’s Sharon who has actually done that, and Lydia is the one that has, to me, not sublimated her ego. It shows how we project onto others the things we know are problemati­c in ourselves. And Lydia is almost a prisoner of her desires, of her ego and her status.

BLANCHETT: But is she doing it to herself? Sharon as the concertmas­ter is actually one of the most powerful people in the room. Sharon’s a kingmaker, or a queenmaker in this way, in many respects. And also, that we always think about power as being the most obvious outward expression of that power, the person on the metaphoric­al podium. But it’s not necessaril­y the case. I mean, Lydia’s life is run by the board, it’s supported by Sharon who asks the right questions and has the conversati­ons that make things possible. So, it’s a very symbiotic relationsh­ip. And I think that’s what I love about the relationsh­ip as a metaphor for how power actually functions and who benefits from power. It’s very, very subtle. And to that thing that you said, people often give advice to other people, the advice that they need to take themselves, you know?

There’s also, where does this fit into a #Metoo narrative? The idea of what it means to be a predator. What do we expect that to look like? How do we expect it to appear to us? BLANCHETT: I don’t know. I feel like it’s not... Once that word is said, it can’t be unsaid. Whereas, I think there’s a way of looking at this film where she’s also... You’re dealing with someone who has come to the end of a teaching cycle, who seems to be in an incredible position of power, that is at a high point in her career. And you realize that

paradise, the paradise that she’s found herself in, the position of power that she’s found herself in, it’s not this unassailab­le, unexamined ivory tower that she thought it would be when she saw the men all around her achieving those positions. It’s not the place she thought it would be, and it’s not the place her partner thought it would be either.

So, in a way, I wonder... There’s a way of looking at the film—and I’m not saying this is the way I look at the film, I think there’s many angles on it—that she herself wants to break it apart. There’s something willful in her own demise and destructio­n. Because in the end, she’s a creative force as much as she is a terribly flawed human being. That she knows that the only way, when you surmount the peak, is down. In order to keep working, the only way is down. And that is to be the architect of your own demise. And because she’s coming to the end of something, she’s about to turn 50. What more is there to quote-unquote, achieve.

She sees this young cellist at the beginning of her career. It’s always a man with a woman when you talk about a muse. But what actually happens between them? I think what is interestin­g about what Todd has written, is that no one ever knows, but everyone talks about what happens [between them]. Do you know what I mean? And so, it’s left to the audience to decide. In a way, it’s what happens when a rumor starts on the internet. What actually happened? But we go to the end point before we’ve examined what those possibilit­ies could have been. Because, can you tell me what happened?

I have no idea. You’re right.

BLANCHETT: But yet, we call her a predator because then that enables us to sit in a really comfortabl­e dynamic and say who are the goodies and who are the baddies in the story. And what Todd has written is that no one is entirely guilty, and no one is entirely innocent.

Yes, we need to make things black-and-white all the time. Why do you think we do that? BLANCHETT: Because I think we’re encouraged to have an opinion. We’re encouraged to say, “This is what we think,” to have a definitive place. And I think that has happened in times that require really nuanced discussion­s, because there are seismic changes that are happening, that must happen, to changes in the way that we operate. The societies, the fragile democracie­s that we live in, we have to examine them. We must tear them apart in order to put them back together in a much more inclusive and respectful way. But it doesn’t help us, I think, in these difficult, and challengin­g, and exposing times to have either-or narratives.

What do you think Nina?

HOSS: What stuck with me, what you said, what I’m still thinking of, is when you say that Lydia is not the one who obliterate­s her ego. And I think she is the one who understand­s that concept really well, and that’s what is so fascinatin­g to someone like Sharon. Because that is what a real creative person, an artist, does. What Cate spoke about now, what Tár may be, because we don’t want to interpret anything, but maybe she pushes things towards that moment that her life might fall apart, because that’s where art happens. Even in her life, she creates a room that opens up possibilit­ies again, even if you have to start at the bottom again. But it’s something where art happens in these moments where you put yourself at risk, where you forget what you know, where you are out there to risk and to discover.

She’s the head of an institutio­n that asks things from her that are pretty rigid. And then it’s a question, whose advice do you listen to? And then maybe you make the wrong decision because you think you owe someone something. That’s also, for me, this film. Sharon is part of this institutio­n more than Tár. Tár is much more of a guest. But Sharon sits in this institutio­n, she made her way through the German classical music world, she knows it inside out. She knows all the politics and she can make it work. And the drama for this relationsh­ip is, I think, that Lydia, at a certain point, thinks Sharon can’t do anything for her, and she doesn’t let her in. It might have not been that kind of a scandal because Sharon’s the better politician. But then [Tár’s] ego takes over. And that, for me, was this moment where Sharon says, “Enough. You won’t ever listen to me. I have to protect our family and my career because your ego is now up there, not for a piece of work, not for art, not for a symphony, but for yourself. You forget about what I can do for you. It’s a team. And maybe you want to destroy it, for whatever reason, but I have to take responsibi­lity in this moment.”

What do you hope people might take away from seeing this film? And what’s some meaninful feedback you’ve received? BLANCHETT: The most wonderful compliment that I’ve received is that people who have thought, ‘Oh, I don’t know anything about this world,’ have come out, not kicking and screaming, but they became curious. They want to go straight back in and see it again. And the second time that they’ve seen it, they’ve had a completely different reaction to it. So, I think it’s very startling and confrontin­g, the film, in ways that are quite unexpected. I hope that they will ask more questions than they will answer, because I think that that’s what the film encourages. I think open-hearted conversati­on is what we so desperatel­y need. And I never want to tell an audience what to think. I don’t think the film patronizes an audience, it’s not a message film.

For me, the message is what you said earlier, which is, “There is no definite here, there’s no black-and-white,” and that’s important. HOSS: It’s like a Chekhov play in a way. He asked questions. There is no judgment per se. You’re being thrown to this side, to the other side. You have to rethink your own judgments. You thought you think a certain way, and then all of a sudden... So, you are being challenged in the best possible way. And like Cate said, when I listen to what people talk about when they leave the film, firstly, there’s the reaction that they want to see it again because they think they missed something. I can say it from my own experience also. And you watch it maybe three times, and every time I come out and I have another aspect, I see Lydia in a different way, I see the world we’re in in a different way. I take something else out of it. And so, I think if you watch this film, you’re being, in the most beautiful way, challenged in your own point of view and your judgements, but also you can dive into this world, which is also incredibly fascinatin­g.

And mainly what Cate said, it’s that I hope it starts a conversati­on, and I think it does. And that is, I think, what we all try to achieve. BLANCHETT: The truth’s made up of many perspectiv­es.

 ?? ?? Nina Hoss and Cate Blanchett in Tár.
Nina Hoss and Cate Blanchett in Tár.
 ?? ?? Blanchett as Lydia Tár.
Blanchett as Lydia Tár.
 ?? ?? From left: Hoss, Noémie Merlant, Todd Field, Sophie Kauer and Blanchett in Venice.
From left: Hoss, Noémie Merlant, Todd Field, Sophie Kauer and Blanchett in Venice.
 ?? ?? Hoss and Blanchett at the New York Film Festival.
Hoss and Blanchett at the New York Film Festival.

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