Lydia Tár

Tár is a fictional biopic which dramatises the upper echelons of the classical music world and follows the exploits of the titular Lydia Tár, principal conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra. Directed by Todd Field and starring Australia’s Cate Blanchett, the film follows Tár as she is embroiled in a series of allegations suggesting a pattern of inappropriate relations with her students. Depending on who you ask, Tár is a story about cancel culture after #MeToo, a tragicomedy of Shakespearian proportions, or another film capitalising on stereotypes about lesbians as predators.

I could talk about any of these things, but the most urgent story it tells is about power. Tár is a study of how power is maintained through control, the people complicit in its mechanisms, and those silenced by it. Tár may be a fictional biopic, but the story it tells about power is very real.

The film starts with Blanchett’s Tár explaining the role of the conductor as lead of the orchestra: You cannot start without me. I start the clock … The reality is that from the very beginning... I know precisely what time it is, and the exact moment we will arrive at our destination together. The association between film directing and conducting is obvious, but less obvious is how the film uses time. Watching Tár is watching power be conducted. Tár keeps people in time as a form of control, and, of course, as a form of power.

Tár is suggestive of a type of figure endemic to high powered circles – someone who carries the habit of lying, manipulating, and using others for gain with unusual ease. Figures such as Tár have the luxury of orchestrating their own reality. Tár conducts the people in her life as she conducts her musicians from the podium. She keeps people in time.