Performance (A Late Quartet) film review

A film about musicians, and the choices they make when putting art first.  I'm a sucker for these sorts of films.  I recognise the lives of artists more than I do the lives of vampires or action heroes in a dystopian future.  So too would artistically celebrated film actors identify closely with these roles, and this makes for some exceptionally refined performances from indie favourites Christopher Walken, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Catherine Keener.  Rounding out the core cast are Mark Ivanir and Imogen Poots, both of whom deliver enjoyable performances, though they lack the gravitas that gives their co-stars' performances such power.

I have never really felt much for Walken before.  Till now, I've considered his major talent to be the shamelessness with which he unites sardonic humour and sartorial failure.  Here, he upholds his reputation for being the worst dressed baller on the block, but the cynical clown is nowhere to be seen.  Here, Walken gives the film its heart and provides its most touching moments.  He plays a respected musician facing the  end of his career and coming to terms with what that means for the future.

The storylines of the other characters are best viewed as subplots.  There is an element of soap opera to their sexual escapades and Walken's story remained the most interesting for its specificity to his vocation, and how it is affected as he battles both his mortality and his dedication to artistic integrity.

From this I was reminded of the TV series Smash.  It purports to be a behind-the-scenes look at how a Broadway musical comes together.  In execution, though, it is often little more than a soap opera with the occasional song thrown into the mix.  It has moments of brilliance, though, and when these occur it is alway within a storyline that focuses on the particular struggles that face Broadway luminati.  When we see their artistic struggles affect their personal lives, we care.  When we see their arbitrary whims affect their personal lives, we care less.

Similarly, in Performance, I cared more about some events than others.  For the most part, this film does tie its conflicts to the struggle artists face about whether to prioritise their personal relationships or their vocational aspirations.  The problem is mostly that the outworking of these struggles often feels contrived or simplistic.  However, Keener and Hoffman do a remarkable job of embodying these characters and I found myself engrossed in their story.

Overall, the film is a rather light examination of some really interesting issues.  It's enjoyable from start to finish, but achieves less emotional impact than it was probably aiming for.  Walken, though, made me bawl.

See this film if you have artistic inclinations and would like to see how that might screw up your life.