TWENTY MINUTES IN

Twenty minutes in to Todd Field's Tár (2022) and I already had to stop and take a break to mull it over as it had me kind of buzzing like the cinematic equivalent of a post-coital, or in this instance, pre-coital, cigarette. If I only watch this isolated twenty minutes and nothing more it would already be my personal choice for film of the year.

But why am I so convinced of its quality so early into its running time?

Within just a few initial scenes of the film, spending time with the central character Lydia Tár, I felt like I'd woken from a woke culture coma and returned to a long forgotten atmosphere of intelligent, sophisticated Mankiewiczian dialogue in cinema, that rare occurrence where the audience isn't patronised with ham fisted political or socio-cultural messaging. My mind was immediately stimulated in a way that went beyond even the best Sorkin screenplay which often has a tendency to be the tonal equivalent of 'Being John Malkovich' with almost every character sounding like Aaron Sorkin talking back to himself. With the exception of his screenplay for Steve Jobs (2015) which I rate highly, Sorkin has become a sort of parody of his own signature style in recent years.

Mind you, I could only hope to be such a parody myself.

Sometimes when I pick up a book that is so well written, I often quickly close the cover and and revel in the suspended feeling of satisfaction and excitement, daring to hope it can sustain its brilliance to the end, maintaining the initial high expectation of inspiration set in its first few pages all the way through to the last page.

In those moments where you contemplate just the mere fragment of a work of creation, its potential masterpiece status remains forever poised on the brink of being realised. If you walked away forever and never returned to that book or film could you be truly satisfied? Just think, you would never have your heart broken by it that's for sure, no expectations unfulfilled.

But we all know, like Orpheus, we can't help but look back, perpetually intrigued to see how the story ends. And there we have both the paradoxical joy and tragedy of the human impulse to see how the tale plays out. We even do it with our own lives as they unfold before us, both trying to write the destiny of our journey and at the same time navigating our way through the unexpected surprises, jump scares and pitfulls that are often beyond our control.

And like great love affairs, our relationship with art and culture can either be short lived or long term.

So now I'm going to go back and watch the remaining two hours of this film and either have my hopes dashed or my great expectations realised.

Fingers crossed!