The Musicians goes beyond what one might expect, likely because art is lifted so highly in its everydayness
A charming and quiet film, The Musicians manages to hit that illusive high note, then holds it until it soars.
Antonio Stradivari (1644 – 1737) is one of the world’s best-known luthiers, having crafted an estimated one thousand stringed instruments, of which it is said six-hundred and fifty survive today. When Astrid at long last completes the Stradivari arrangement of two violins, a viola and cello, she sets out to fulfil her late father’s dream of organising a recital with the exquisite instruments. She gathers the musicians, all virtuosos, three-fourths handpicked by her father. Together, George, Peter, Apolline and Lise will record as a quartet in an old church beloved by Astrid’s father, with an opus he’d commissioned from his favourite composer. It was a passion project of Astrid’s father, and now it’s Astrid’s mission, and it will be broadcast around the globe, a true moment for classical music lovers. Yet there’s one small issue: the four musicians can’t seem to get it together during rehearsals at the father’s estate, where they’re to live and play for the six days leading up to the recital. They’re either egotistical or insecure or past lovers – best call the composer in, see if he can’t help the situation.
The premise of director and co-writer Grégory Magne’s The Musicians (Les Musiciens in its native French) easily lends itself to a measured, light drama with sophisticated, comedic tones and a rather recognisable narrative arc, so there isn’t room for too many surprises. But such a foundation also demands a setting full of culture, wealth and art, so the film leans toward a subdued exquisiteness. Lovers of classical music might agree that if there’s one thing more moving than listening to a stirring composition, it’s watching the musicians play that composition, and this film delivers the wide shots, the close-ups and all the angles. The acting by Mathieu Spinosi as George, Emma Ravier as Apolline, Daniel Garlitsky as Peter and Marie Vialle as Lisa – while they’re playing their instruments – is so believable and affecting in motion that it’s sometimes heartbreaking. Valérie Donzelli comes off as a character actor in her expressions, but she delivers her dialogue with graceful restraint, thus hitting upon a really interesting authenticity in her portrayal of Astrid. And veteran actor Frédéric Pierrot lands directly in the sweet spot as Charlie, the reluctant composer. The set design is characteristically stunning, as is the French countryside.
As a quaint kind of film that the French do so well, The Musicians goes beyond what one might expect, likely because art is lifted so highly in its everydayness. It’s such an intricate part of the characters’ lives, and though that seems enviable, the film reminds us that classical music is not only for the privileged and the remarkably talented; it’s for everyone, and all we have to do is listen.
Reviewed by Heather Taylor-Johnson
Rating 4.5 out of 5
Distributor: Palace Films
