A Late Quartet contains no car chases or explosions. There are no girls in bikinis carrying big guns. Aliens do not invade.
It’s aimed at a mature audience — the kind who flocked to see The King’s Speech, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Quartet.
The film offers first-rate, mostly middle-aged actors in an intelligent screenplay that’s decently crafted, covers interesting but unfamiliar ground and has a worthwhile central idea. A Late Quartet dares us to care whether a string quartet stays together or not after 25 years.
Christopher Walken plays an elderly cellist who’s aware he’s suffering from Parkinson’s disease. When he tells the other members, they react in different ways.
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Ensemble cast (from left): Mark Ivanir, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken and Catherine Keener
The
first violinist (brilliantly played by the least-known actor, Mark
Ivanir) is a dry perfectionist, whose emotions are channelled into
classical music. With cold practicality, he simply sets about finding a
replacement.
The second violinist (an on-form Philip Seymour Hoffman) is more passionate — and more insecure and egotistical. He demands to alternate as first violinist.
His wife (the ever-reliable Catherine Keener) realises this would be a mistake, and wonders if they should disband the quartet — especially when she finds out her husband has had a one-night stand with a gorgeous young flamenco dancer he met while out jogging.
To undermine the group further, the couple’s highly musical daughter (played by the beautiful, soon-to-be-a-star Imogen Poots) develops a crush on the first violinist. Needless to say, her parents are unimpressed when he succumbs to her attractions.
As a pianist, I’m always irked when actors don’t even try to play the correct notes on pianos when they’re miming. Here, to my untutored eye as a non-violinist, the actors seem to have taken the trouble to prepare.
Their music may be played by the Brentano Quartet but the actors’ fingering and bowing are apparently extraordinarily accurate. Bravo.
The acting is pretty faultless, too. It makes a pleasant change to see Walken — usually typecast in sinister cameos — underplaying and thinking his way through a leading role.
Keener is as sympathetic yet spiky as only she can be, while the formidably talented Hoffman never descends to the shallow, award-hunting bombast that has diminished his recent movies. Ivanir is a revelation, and Poots — a blue-eyed English rose reminiscent of a young Susannah York — does her best with the least well-written role.
She succeeds in making her somewhat shallow character touchingly naive, which is no mean feat, as some scenes descend into soapy histrionics and bedroom farce through no fault of the actors.
The Israeli-American writer-director Yaron Zilberman is new to drama, and his inexperience shows in some awkward shifts of tone. He and co-writer Seth Grossman don’t have great ears for dialogue.
An obvious glory of the film is its music. Beethoven’s No.14, Op.131 is one of his most profound late quartets, and its colours illuminate the drama that develops, right up to the climactic concert.
The film does two other things miraculously well. First, it takes us behind the scenes and convincingly shows us how a musical ensemble works — or fails to work. Anyone who has performed music with other people — even in a rock group — will recognise themselves in these characters. Secondly, A Late Quartet cleverly dramatises its central message, which is that some combinations of people are much greater than they could ever be on their own or in another group.
This is an anti-individualistic film, a picture that prizes co-operation and self-sacrifice over personal ambition. That’s a rarity in cinema — and virtually unknown in a Hollywood product.
A Late Quartet may have a brief life in cinemas, for it has little appeal to the young. But even if it never reaches a cinema near you, my advice is to watch out for it when it is released on DVD.
High-quality movies aimed at grown-ups remain rarities — and this is one of the best.
It’s aimed at a mature audience — the kind who flocked to see The King’s Speech, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and Quartet.
The film offers first-rate, mostly middle-aged actors in an intelligent screenplay that’s decently crafted, covers interesting but unfamiliar ground and has a worthwhile central idea. A Late Quartet dares us to care whether a string quartet stays together or not after 25 years.
Christopher Walken plays an elderly cellist who’s aware he’s suffering from Parkinson’s disease. When he tells the other members, they react in different ways.
Scroll down for video
Ensemble cast (from left): Mark Ivanir, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Christopher Walken and Catherine KeenerThe second violinist (an on-form Philip Seymour Hoffman) is more passionate — and more insecure and egotistical. He demands to alternate as first violinist.
His wife (the ever-reliable Catherine Keener) realises this would be a mistake, and wonders if they should disband the quartet — especially when she finds out her husband has had a one-night stand with a gorgeous young flamenco dancer he met while out jogging.
To undermine the group further, the couple’s highly musical daughter (played by the beautiful, soon-to-be-a-star Imogen Poots) develops a crush on the first violinist. Needless to say, her parents are unimpressed when he succumbs to her attractions.
As a pianist, I’m always irked when actors don’t even try to play the correct notes on pianos when they’re miming. Here, to my untutored eye as a non-violinist, the actors seem to have taken the trouble to prepare.
Their music may be played by the Brentano Quartet but the actors’ fingering and bowing are apparently extraordinarily accurate. Bravo.
The acting is pretty faultless, too. It makes a pleasant change to see Walken — usually typecast in sinister cameos — underplaying and thinking his way through a leading role.
Keener is as sympathetic yet spiky as only she can be, while the formidably talented Hoffman never descends to the shallow, award-hunting bombast that has diminished his recent movies. Ivanir is a revelation, and Poots — a blue-eyed English rose reminiscent of a young Susannah York — does her best with the least well-written role.
She succeeds in making her somewhat shallow character touchingly naive, which is no mean feat, as some scenes descend into soapy histrionics and bedroom farce through no fault of the actors.
The Israeli-American writer-director Yaron Zilberman is new to drama, and his inexperience shows in some awkward shifts of tone. He and co-writer Seth Grossman don’t have great ears for dialogue.
An obvious glory of the film is its music. Beethoven’s No.14, Op.131 is one of his most profound late quartets, and its colours illuminate the drama that develops, right up to the climactic concert.
The film does two other things miraculously well. First, it takes us behind the scenes and convincingly shows us how a musical ensemble works — or fails to work. Anyone who has performed music with other people — even in a rock group — will recognise themselves in these characters. Secondly, A Late Quartet cleverly dramatises its central message, which is that some combinations of people are much greater than they could ever be on their own or in another group.
This is an anti-individualistic film, a picture that prizes co-operation and self-sacrifice over personal ambition. That’s a rarity in cinema — and virtually unknown in a Hollywood product.
A Late Quartet may have a brief life in cinemas, for it has little appeal to the young. But even if it never reaches a cinema near you, my advice is to watch out for it when it is released on DVD.
High-quality movies aimed at grown-ups remain rarities — and this is one of the best.