Synopsis
A famous pianist struggling with stage fright late in his career finds inspiration with a free-spirited music critic.
Review
Philosophy and classical music converge in Claude Lalonde’s melancholic directorial debut, Love With Music (referred to as Coda in some territories) as Sir Patrick Stewart takes a break from superheroes and starships to play Henry Cole, an acclaimed classical pianist whose return to the stage is marred by severe stage fright.
His agent Paul, played by the always watchable Giancarlo Esposito, pushes Henry to carry on with his planned live performances, dismissing the pianist’s concerns as nothing more than ‘jitters’ due to his years of living as a recluse, but as Henry’s mental state begins to deteriorate he becomes increasingly reluctant to play in front of an audience.
Enter Helen Morrison (Katie Holmes), a music critic for The New Yorker determined to write a feature for the magazine on Henry’s return to the stage. Whilst her initial attempts are politely declined by Henry, over time he comes round to the idea thanks to the reporter’s gentle perseverance and as she interviews him for her article the two develop a genuine friendship.
Lalonde’s feature is a very delicate, slow-burning affair that takes its time to deal with some pretty serious issues. Louis Godbout’s screenplay is littered with frequent discussions on philosophy, classical music and baseball (yes baseball) and all too often these seemingly trivial conversations about flowers, rocks and the aforementioned baseball hint at a deeper philosophical meaning lurking just beneath the surface.
There’s nothing inherently new here, we’ve seen films that straddle mental health issues with musicians’ personal struggles before, but what makes this film so watchable is the performances of the two leads, particularly Stewart who’s able to convey so much onscreen without having to say anything at all.
As the narrative unfolds, the trauma that haunts Henry is eventually revealed and the reasons for his stage fright explained. As Henry reveals his inner angst to Helen she develops into a muse like character for him, her presence reignites his passion to play again and what started as a friendship begins to develop into something a little more romantic.
This was a slightly problematic aspect of the narrative for me, not just for the tired cinematic cliché of the younger woman falling for the successful older man, but because it blurred the lines of the critic and the artist and brings into question Helen’s motivation for writing her piece in the first place.
Whilst I’m not trying to suggest there’s anything underhanded about Helen’s intentions, but it could be argued that she was merely writing this article in an effort to get closer to a man she’s so clearly in awe off.
I recently watched Katharine O’Brien’s Lost Transmissions and applauded that film’s decision not to pursue a romantic angle between its two leads (Simon Pegg & Juno Temple), so I found it a real shame that this film felt the need to include one here. It’s probably the weakest aspect of the film and distracts from what makes it work so well.
The film works best when it’s dealing with Stewart’s inner turmoil, his frequent nightmares and mental insecurities showcase a man haunted by the trauma of the past. His return to the stage has forced him to address the reasons he stopped performing and it’s clearly something he’s put off for quite some time.
As the film reaches its finale in Switzerland, Guy Dufaux’s beautiful visuals perfectly showcase the mentally of a man who’s taking time to reflect upon things and finally decide what he wants to do in the final ‘coda’ of his life.
Admittedly everything builds to a slightly predictable ending, but that doesn’t mean I felt like my time had been wasted, because sometimes it’s not about the journey, but simply the time taken.
Verdict
A surprisingly sweet and sincere film that mightn’t hit all the right notes, but nevertheless it’s still an immensely watchable feature, thanks largely to Stewart’s performance.
