The opening of Bradley Cooper's film, Maestro, is a title card with a quote from Leonard Bernstein:
“A work of art does not answer questions, it provokes them; and its essential meaning is in the tension between the contradictory answers.”
The opening scenes of Alexander Payne's The Holdovers reinforced my assumption, that the film was going to be a comedy about the shenanigans that take place at a boarding school over Christmas break, when a small group of hapless students and teachers get left behind. Yet, as the film progressed, and all but one of the students were able to escape to an impromptu ski retreat, it became clear that the the concept of "holdovers" is much more deeply rooted than I originally thought. At its heart, the film is about a teacher, who was himself a student at the boarding school many years before, and the relationship that develops between him and the last remaining student, who discover that they have more in common than either would have anticipated. The teacher is played by Paul Giamatti, who, as an actor, has the unfortunate distinction of being absolutely perfect in every role that he plays. It's unfortunate because he usually plays people who have thankless jobs, who are typically on the fringes of society; he does this so well, that we're not impressed by his acting, that's just how we think of him. From that perspective, it comes as little surprise when we find out that Giamatti's teacher has been relegated to a life sentence of teaching at a boarding school due to events that occurred in his youth, and he sees his role as a mentor to the one remaining student, as an opportunity to help him avoid a similar fate. That the student, played by Dominic Sessa, at first is obstinate, and then comes around to recognize that the teacher truly cares for him, should come as not surprise. What stands out about the performances from Giamatti and Sessa is that in this day and age, it is surprising to see two human beings come to a mutual understanding with such depth. Now, does the film meet Bernstein's criterion for a 'work of art'? I believe that the answer to that question is, not quite. While Payne does lay the groundwork for the audience to ask certain questions, like "would I sacrifice my own job if it meant giving a young person a chance at a good life?", his approach to these questions doesn't really lead to any tension, since the answers to his questions should be self-evident. In the case of The Holdovers, asking whether it meets some dead old white guy's definition of art is probably the wrong question, instead a film like this should be celebrated for shining the light on something uplifting and wholesome.
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