Leonard Bernstein worked with Mary Rodgers on the "NYP Young People's Concerts." Rodgers said that she was generally not crazy about Bernstein's musical compositions--but that his gifts as a teacher were astounding.
Additionally, Bernstein had an intriguing rivalry with his friend, Stephen Sondheim. Bernstein felt so distressed by the success of "Sweeney Todd," he became a pain in the ass. His daughter recalls, "We went to see SWEENEY, and we were squabbling in the limo....and then he actually kicked me in the butt." Later, Sondheim himself suggested that Leonard was being difficult because of the professional envy he was trying to suppress. Sondheim made this remark to Jamie Bernstein.
Of course the other Bernstein story that interests me also concerns Sondheim: When early "West Side" reviews ignored Sondheim's contribution, Bernstein made a suggestion. "I will stop listing myself as co-lyricist. You will be sole lyricist, and instead of sharing in one percent of the profits, you will get two percent." Proud young Sondheim said, "I don't care about the money." And he would regret this mistake for the rest of his life.
This material doesn't appear in "Maestro." Here's the story that "Maestro" has to tell. Bernstein is young and in love with a man, and he gets a call to "sub" with the Philharmonic. This evening launches his career. He chooses to marry a woman--maybe because of actual affection, and maybe because he feels he needs a beard, and maybe it's a mix of both. We don't see him in collaboration with Laurents or Sondheim. (We see Jerome Robbins, briefly.) Bernstein's wife grows frustrated--and, in maybe eight separate sequences, she clucks her tongue and says, "Lenny, I wish you would be more secretive about your gayness." Then she gets cancer and dies.
In a brief interlude, Bernstein tries to be fully open about being gay--I think--but this is a rushed scene, and it's ambiguous. We do not see him in conversation with Arthur Laurents--who was a monster, but who did courageously avoid the "beard" route, decade after decade. We do not see Bernstein responding to Stonewall, or to the ascent of Harvey Milk--because, I guess, it's more interesting to see Carey Mulligan giving a ninth or tenth version of the "Don't be an obviously gay man" speech.
This is a bad, silly movie, so I suppose it's not worth feeling offended by Bradley Cooper's choices. It does seem puzzling--and distasteful--that both Matt Bomer and Gideon Glick are given so little to do in this script.
Next, please.
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