“Maria” (2024). Cast: Angelina Jolie, Pierfrancesco Favino, Alba Rohrwacher, Haluk Bilginer, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Stephen Ashfield, Valeria Golino, Caspar Phillipson, Lydia Koniordou, Vincent Macaigne, Aggelina Papadopoulou, Erofili Panagiotarea, Alessandro Bressanello, Sue Ellen Kennedy. Director: Pablo Larraín. Screenplay: Steven Knight. Web site. Trailer.

When one achieves greatness at his or her craft, it’s difficult to walk away when the skills behind it begin to fade. Moreover, facing the hard truth that one’s peak may indeed be irretrievably in the past can be even tougher to accept, no matter how passionate one’s desire might be for it. At times like these, we must often begin making new plans for ourselves and our future, and some of the options open to us may indeed hold considerable appeal, especially if they involve unfulfilled dreams. But what if we have difficulty accepting the reality of such circumstances? We might well be left drowning in indecision, not knowing what to believe, what to do or how to move forward in our lives. And that could be quite a quandary – even a tragedy – if we see that the clock is running out on us. Such is the dilemma faced by a great talent unsure of what she should do with the time she has left, as seen in the stirring new fact-based character study, “Maria.”

Soprano Maria Callas (1923-1977) (Angelina Jolie) was one of the greatest talents ever to have graced the operatic stage. The American-born daughter of Greek immigrants grew up in a volatile New York household. Her parents quarreled frequently, and her ambitious but cold mother, Litsa (Lydia Koniordou), freely expressed her disappointment that Maria wasn’t born a boy. This animosity would color the troubled nature of Maria’s relationship with her mother throughout their lives. This antagonism showed little change over the years, except perhaps when Litsa discovered that a young Maria (Aggelina Papadopoulou) possessed a beautiful singing voice, an attribute that she saw as a potential meal ticket for the family. This was especially true when Maria’s parents divorced and Litsa moved her children back to Greece in 1937, a time of economic hardship at the peak of the Great Depression and that only worsened when the country was overrun by Nazi forces in 1941.

Nevertheless, Callas’s talent was undeniable. She made a name for herself in Greece, then in the US and at last in Italy, where she blossomed into the grand dame of opera, a reputation that would come to characterize her throughout much of the next three decades. She became famous for performing the works of Donizetti, Bellini, Rossini, Verdi, Puccini, Beethoven and even Wagner. Her beautiful voice, graceful elegance and stunning appearance (the result of a dramatic but fruitful weight loss program) made her the preeminent star of the operatic world, every bit the embodiment of a bona fide diva.

Because her talents were in such demand, she was working much of the time in the years to come, thanks to the promotional efforts of her husband, Giovanni Battista Meneghini (Alessandro Bressanello), an older, wealthy industrialist who took over management of her career, an arrangement that was more of a business deal than a romance. During her marriage to Meneghini, however, Callas met and fell in love with Greek shipping tycoon Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer), with whom she had a prolonged and less-than-subtle affair, a relationship that led to her divorce from Meneghini in 1959. But, once separated, Callas’s romance with Onassis never led to the marriage she hoped for due to disagreements over what their future might hold, ending in 1968 with the tycoon’s marriage to former First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy.

Callas’s separation from Onassis would prove to be one of the great tragedies of her life, given that it didn’t lead to the sought-after marital and family bliss that she had thought it would. A life of domestic happiness was something she had longed for, perhaps because of its noticeable absence during her upbringing. In any event, the lack of such an existence left her with only her work. And, as she aged, as her talents began slipping away, she faced an uncertain future – one without a fulfilling personal life and one with questionable prospects for being able to continue to perform.

This is essentially where the film’s narrative begins, in 1977, not long before her death. Much of the picture tells her story through a series of flashbacks (photographed gorgeously in black and white) focused on key moments in her life and how those developments had led her to where she was now. At the time the film begins, Callas has become something of a recluse, living in Paris and having not performed in four years due to a decline in her vocal capabilities. She lives with her two domestics, Ferruccio (Pierfrancesco Favino) and Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher), who dutifully care for her at a time when her physical and mental health have begun to slide. They stand by her as she contemplates her future, trying to decide if she wants to attempt a career comeback or to settle into the quietly satisfying home life she has always craved but has never been allowed to experience. And they also surreptitiously watch over her during a series of interviews she has granted to an aspiring young filmmaker, Mandrax (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who’s producing a documentary about the artist with whom he’s quite obviously infatuated.

Audiences expecting a rote, by-the-book treatment of Callas’s story might be somewhat disappointed by how director Pablo Larraín has presented it here. As in two of his previous works, “Jackie” (2016) (about First Lady Jacqueline Kennedy) and “Spencer” (2021) (about Princess Diana Spencer), the filmmaker serves up more of a character study than a straightforward biography. Larraín explores what makes his protagonist tick, showing the factors that shaped her character, a thematically interpretive approach designed to reveal more about her nature than offering a standard recitation of the names, dates and places that were part of Callas’s life. This becomes apparent in the somewhat unconventional, nonlinear format of the film, one that routinely switches back and forth between the black-and-white flashbacks and the events of the day in which the primary events are set. In addition, because the film profiles the life of an artist, these narrative elements are intercut with performance sequences showcasing some of Callas’s greatest operatic moments, some of which are presented conventionally and others of which are surrealistic or symbolic in nature (particularly the emotive overture and postlude segments, performances quite likely to move viewers to tears). This approach may not be what audiences were presuming at the outset, but what they get is probably more than what they might have anticipated.

Given how Callas’s story is told here, then, one might legitimately ask, what qualities is this film designed to bring out about her? This is where the examination of the perils of uncertainty comes into play. As the foregoing summary explains, and as the picture’s narrative illustrates, “Maria” explores the role that this issue played in her life, especially in shaping the core of her being and worldly existence. And, to understand how those qualities fell into place, it’s vital that we look at the beliefs she held about her life and self, as they steered the direction in which events unfolded. Those who may question this notion – both for the protagonist as portrayed here and in their own lives – should give this issue serious consideration, as it’s fundamental to the functioning of the conscious creation process, the philosophy responsible for the manifestation of our world. It’s unclear whether Callas was aware of this way of thinking, but, as this film depicts the materialization of her life, it becomes apparent how the role of one’s beliefs – whatever form they might take – ultimately impacts the nature of one’s existence.

As noted above, the key nature of the beliefs involved here centers on matters of uncertainty, and that notion can be particularly problematic when it comes to shaping the reality we hope to create. This is perhaps best evidenced by Callas’s indecision on whether to attempt a comeback or retreat into the contentment of a quiet personal life. As the film shows, however, she’s conflicted about which option to pursue.

Callas obviously sees the merits in both possibilities but seems unable to pick which lifestyle she wants for herself. The acclaim likely to accompany a return to the stage is undoubtedly seductive, but, given her long absence from the stage, she would have her work cut out for her to prepare for it. Indeed, would she be up to the rigors of such an undertaking? By contrast, embracing a life of relative seclusion would provide her with the peace of mind and personal satisfaction that have long eluded her, something she genuinely craved at many times in her past. But could she realistically give up the attention and admiration she had grown so accustomed to as a diva?

Callas’s inability to make a decision about seemingly equally viable options, unfortunately, leaves her stuck in place. And, as a result, neither possibility emerges. This kind of stagnation reflects one of the three underlying conditions chiefly responsible for preventing successful manifestations from occurring: inherent contradiction. Callas appears to believe in the viability of both possibilities open to her, but, because they collectively call for innately conflicting conduct and supporting beliefs, they cancel out one another and inhibit the manifestation of both choices. Stalemates such as this are indeed frustrating and unsatisfying to anyone who experiences them, because they clearly keep us from moving forward, leaving us with lives that are anything but fulfilling. Such conditions are particularly maddening to someone like Callas, circumstances far from what someone of her notoriety and stature is accustomed to experiencing.

Contradiction alone is not what’s solely responsible for these conditions. The other two underlying influences – doubt and fear – are also present here. And they, too, can be intrusively meddlesome in the flow of the manifestation process, given that they’re each forms of belief in themselves.

Doubt, for example, clouds Callas’s thoughts about which course to pursue. When it comes to her comeback efforts, for instance, she participates in a series of informal rehearsals to test the waters where her voice is concerned, some of which don’t go as well as hoped for. And, when outsiders hear excerpts from those sessions and share their observations with members of the press, Callas is confronted with hostile questions from them, making her doubt the viability of her proposed comeback.

Similarly, when Callas ponders a retreat into private life, she’s reminded of how events unfolded in her previous relationships. When Callas met Onassis, for example, Meneghini didn’t put up much of a fuss when she began paying attention to her would-be suitor, a reaction that prompted her to wonder how much her husband really cared for her. And, after her divorce, when she began her involvement with Onassis in earnest, she grew doubtful about their future together when he showed hesitancy about having a family. At the same time, she also had questions about the nature of their relationship, given that she sought to keep up her career despite his pressure to treat her more like a possession than as a partner. In her mind, just because she was willing to be a wife and mother didn’t mean that she wanted to give up her artistic calling, that she was eager to continue perceiving herself as an individual in her own right, that she didn’t want to abandon her own sense of personal sovereignty. Despite all that, however, she was terribly hurt when their relationship ended and Onassis began courting and eventually marrying Jackie Kennedy.

Taken together, these memories about her professional and private lives figured largely in her belief outlooks, fueling her consciousness with considerable doubt and everything it can do to derail her plans for materializing her hopes and dreams. What’s more, comparable effects were similarly induced by the power of fear and how it can hinder what we seek to create. Even though Callas was not one to necessarily show her innermost feelings outwardly, she experienced them nonetheless, and the foregoing incidents personally and professionally undoubtedly had to have inspired their share of anxiety, further enhancing the influence of doubt and contradiction already in place. It’s no wonder, then, how Callas came to wrestle with their combined impact in the form of such overpowering indecision.

To make matters worse, this crushing uncertainty spawned a number of undeniable, if unintended, side effects. This became apparent in the health issues Callas was experiencing in the film. She had become heavily dependent on prescription medications, some of which may have been related to the weight loss program she underwent, a regimen whose effects some believe might have contributed to the decline in her vocal abilities – and the disappointment that accompanied that, a serious impact on her mental well-being. She also felt that she was beginning to experience hallucinations, a development that troubled her deeply but that she only confided to her sister, Yakinthi (Valeria Golino), in an anxious, tearful confession.

To be sure, Callas had supporters at her side through all of these trials and tribulations, most notably her trusted servants, Ferruccio and Bruna. She also had a sympathetic ear in Mandrax, as well as her physician, Dr. Fontainebleau (Vincent Macaigne), and pianist Jeffrey Tate (Stephen Ashfield), the accompanist at her rehearsal sessions. But, regardless of all the shoulders she had to lean on, the onus of this situation was on Callas herself, and it was up to her to resolve it.

That, of course, depended to a great degree on whether she wanted to resolve it. And that, in turn, would have required Callas to make a decision on what she wanted to do. In the end, it could be argued that that’s exactly what she did, in her own way, even if her “resolution” wasn’t part of her original palette of options. The crippling indecision she was contending with may have ultimately been more than she was capable of handling, leading her to pursue another path, one that embodied an alternative set of beliefs that many of us likely would not have chosen but that nevertheless provided her with a solution to decisions she was ultimately unprepared or incapable to make. Unfortunately, such choices carry consequences that may be more daunting than we realize, too, so we should weigh our options carefully in such situations. In the end, indecision truly might be difficult to deal with, but is avoiding it altogether the right answer? Only we can decide that for ourselves.

As this film so aptly illustrates, Callas lived a life full of triumphant highs and agony-ridden lows, as well as times in which she struggled to distinguish reality from suspected fantasy. It gives us pause to wonder how someone so gifted could also be so tormented. As in director Pablo Larraín’s previous films “Jackie” and “Spencer,” “Maria” provides viewers with yet another offering about a strong, powerful woman who lived an extraordinary but turbulent life, the third installment in a captivating cinematic trilogy. In this case, as in all three pictures, the filmmaker accomplishes this by delving into the mind of the protagonist, showing us what was unfolding in the individual’s inner being, the source of what transpired (or failed to do so) in her life and why.

What separates this release from its two predecessors is the career of its protagonist, whose broad range of operatic performances is beautifully captured in an array of captivating sequences. It also showcases Callas’s reputation for being a prima donna, but it does so without going over the top. In fact, some have criticized “Maria” for being too subdued in its portrayal of the grand dame. But I personally appreciated the restraint exercised here, an approach that prevented Callas from being turned into a caricature or cartoon. This outcome is largely made possible by the positively stellar Golden Globe and Critics Choice Award-nominated performance of Jolie, who has turned in her best work in years in this offering, a comeback of sorts of her own. Add to this the film’s superb production design, Critics Choice Award-nominated costume design, gorgeous Oscar-nominated cinematography and capable supporting cast, and viewers have an opportunity to witness yet another fine work from an underappreciated director who, in my opinion, is one of the best auteurs in the business these days. Admittedly, the film’s screenplay could have used some work, especially in the depth of its back story, but I’m willing to forgive that in the face of everything else this release has to offer. That’s particularly true in its highly emotive opening and closing sequences, musical montages that are sure to move anyone who doesn’t have ice water running through his or her veins. Indeed, pay no heed to the nitpickers when it comes to this one and savor it for all it’s worth. The film is available for streaming online.

Indecision can be a nagging circumstance to contend with. I frequently encountered it myself in my youth in dealings with relatives who were often paralyzed at the prospect of making a choice when one was called for. However, as someone who is generally capable of making decisions when needed, I didn’t always appreciate the difficulty associated with doing so among those who are fundamentally ill-equipped to do so. Fortunately, I’ve come to understand the value of clearly assessing my beliefs and drawing upon them when required, doing all I can to keep contradiction, doubt and fear at bay. With those hindrances aside, moving ahead with decision-making becomes eminently more possible, meaning that realizing our sought-after manifestations also becomes eminently more attainable. Granted, those decisions might not always turn out to be “the right ones,” fraught with perils of their own. But whatever “mistakes” that result from them also often provide us with important learning opportunities, which can ultimately prove to be just as valuable as the creations we had hoped to manifest. In either case, though, the value in making decisions and rejecting uncertainty frequently outweighs the drawbacks that come with a lack of decisiveness, and that can be far more beneficial than doing nothing and simply hoping for the best.

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