It was my therapist who initially recommended that I watch the film, Tár, a 2022 psychological drama, written and directed by Todd Field. What spiked my interest was Field’s previous acting role as piano player Nick Nightingale in Stanley Kubrick’s 1999 swan song, Eyes Wide Shut. I doubt it was mere coincidence that Tár’s runtime is 2h 37m but, rather, an homage to the infamous Room 237 from the late director’s 1980 horror classic, The Shining. While almost all of Kubrick’s filmography consists of short story or novel adaptations, Tár is an original concept from the mind of Field, himself. It follows renowned orchestral conductor, Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett), who is days away from the launch of her book as well as a live recording of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony. Tár is a fictional character, but I spent much of the film wondering whether or not it was a biopic. The depth at which the film dives into the world of music is almost indistinguishable from reality. The technical dialogue and conversations are so acute that it felt as though I were watching a masterclass. That being said, there was not a moment throughout the film in which my attention wavered from the screen. It is a compelling character study that raises the question of the role an artist’s morality plays in their art and one’s ability to separate the art from the artist. This is a question that I wrestle with often. Is my admiration of Woody Allen’s work tainted by the way in which his personal ethics conflict with my own? Does my appreciation for films produced by Miramax contradict my disdain for the disgraced movie mogul, Harvey Weinstein? I guess it would depend on the artist’s intention. Are they trying to convey a specific idea or promote a particular agenda to the audience? Personally, the art that resonates with me the most does not tell me how to feel but presents me with a different perspective that challenges my preconceived notions of the subject matter, and Tár does just that. It is not a commentary on “woke culture” so much as it is a depiction of society’s relationship with art in the aftermath of the #MeToo movement and implementation of 21st century progressive ideology. The film does not provide a clear answer as to whether the result of this is positive or negative. It allows the viewer to come up with their own interpretation of the events that unfold onscreen. I found the filmmaking style and overall tone to be reminiscent of Olivier Assayas’s 2016 psychological thriller, Personal Shopper, another film that relied heavily on subtlety and nuance, leaving me with more questions than answers. To me, this makes a powerful film – one that requires multiple viewings, due to the fact that it does not serve its audience with an explanation on a silver platter and leaves you pondering its meaning long after the credits roll.