Maria

“Maria” is a film that exudes sensitivity—an intimate, melancholic portrait of Maria Callas’ final days that unfolds like an opera in itself—grand, tragic, and profoundly human. Pablo Larraín, who had already shown his skill in capturing the psyche of iconic female figures in “Jackie” (2016) and “Spencer” (2021), finds in Callas the perfect muse to conclude this sort of unofficial trilogy. But unlike his previous works, here he takes on a more tender, almost protective approach, guiding the narrative with a mix of reverence and melancholy, as if he’s cradling the soprano in one final act of love and farewell.

Angelina Jolie delivers a haunting performance, marked by an ethereal presence and a restrained vulnerability that resonates in every glance and gesture. There’s a deep understanding of Callas’ pain—the internal struggle of an artist losing what defined her entire life: her voice. Larraín’s decision to keep the soprano’s original recordings while subtly blending in Jolie’s nuances creates a perfect illusion—a symbiosis between actress and character that goes beyond mere imitation and transforms into a powerful emotional evocation. Every expression, every calculated movement from Jolie, overflows with a silent sadness—a resigned acceptance that time is relentless, yet art, in some way, is eternal.

The film’s visual aesthetic is another crucial element in crafting this melancholic atmosphere. Ed Lachman’s cinematography alternates between the vibrant richness of contemporary moments and the stark black-and-white of memories, creating a dichotomy between a decaying present and a glorious past that stubbornly seeps into reality. The wide yet oppressive spaces of Callas’ Paris apartment almost function as a character in themselves—a refuge and a prison at the same time, filled with shadows and silences that echo the protagonist’s solitude. Production designer Guy Hendrix Dyas does impeccable work, evoking both the glamour and melancholy that permeate Callas’ life with exquisite detail that impresses without ever overpowering the narrative.

Steven Knight’s screenplay, always elegant and restrained, avoids falling into the trap of conventional biopics. There’s no desperate search for definitive answers or a didactic linear chronology. Instead, the film unfolds as a series of fragmented memories and introspective moments, focusing more on the protagonist’s emotional state than on the events themselves. The interpersonal relationships, such as the devotion of her staff—portrayed with warmth by Alba Rohrwacher and Pierfrancesco Favino—add layers of tenderness to Callas’ solitary journey, balancing the weight of the narrative with touches of genuine humanity.

Another fascinating aspect is the way the film explores Callas’ relationship with her art. The scenes where the soprano surrenders to music are hypnotically beautiful, with the soundtrack perfectly aligning with her pain and passion. Larraín doesn’t treat opera as mere stylistic background but as the vital force that drives and consumes Callas at the same time. The musical performances, presented in their entirety rather than as mere fragments, give the film a contemplative, almost liturgical rhythm, inviting the audience to lose themselves in the grandeur and melancholy of the music.

And at the heart of it all is Callas’ relationship with her past—especially her tumultuous romance with Aristotle Onassis, played with intensity by Haluk Bilginer. Far from being portrayed as just a romantic interest, Onassis represents the embodiment of the sacrifices Callas made for love and art, and the screenplay skillfully navigates these conflicting emotions without resorting to over-the-top dramatizations. The pain of abandonment and loss is never spelled out in grand speeches but lingers in the air—in exchanged glances, in heavy silences that say more than words ever could.

“Maria” doesn’t try to explain Callas, and that’s perhaps its greatest strength. The film understands that a figure like her can never be fully unraveled—only felt—and that’s where Larraín truly shines. Instead of offering answers, he gives us a sensory and emotional experience that captures the elusive essence of the soprano with rare delicacy. The result is a work that not only celebrates Callas’ art but also reflects on the passage of time, on what it means to lose what defines us, and on the inherent beauty of life’s transience.

In the end, “Maria” isn’t just a biopic—it’s a love letter. To music, to memory, and to the fragility of the human spirit. Larraín invites us to witness the final days of a legend with tenderness and respect, and in doing so, reminds us of the devastating beauty of saying goodbye to something we will never stop loving.

What an amazing performance!!! Angelina Jolie was mesmerizing in this role. I could feel so much pain and grief in this performance. The fact that she trained so vigorously to be able to do so much of her own singing for this role is just proof of the commitment she had to this role. Give her all the awards!

'Maria' makes for fascinating viewing. I knew nothing, to be honest, directly of Maria Callas before watching, though obviously had heard of the grand pieces of music. Very sad, if naturally very interesting, to learn more about her and her final days. Beautifully told.

Really intriguing to see that Steven Knight wrote this, not something I'd expect to see him write based on the other work of his that I've seen - more fool me, evidently a man of many talents. Knight and those offscreen are reasons why this is terrific as it is, though the cast are too.

I feel like I've not seen enough of Angelina Jolie. I have seen a fair few films featuring her and have known her name for as long as I can remember, but do sense I've not watched as much as I ought to have done; a bit like George Clooney. Jolie is outstanding here, no doubt about it.

Pierfrancesco Favino and Alba Rohrwacher are also sizeable parts of this, they ensure that the movie holds much heart - I genuinely cared for Ferruccio & Bruna as much as Maria by the end, so credit to them both. Haluk Bilginer and Kodi Smit-McPhee are most noteworthy from the rest.

My only criticism (and it's barely that, if at all) would be that the singing audio isn't the most convincing when paired up with Jolie's lip-synching. It's quite obvious, but then again I guess it is a very tough element to sync up perfectly; especially with such a unique voice.

I watched this at the cinema straight after seeing Robert Zemeckis' 'Here'. No bad decisions were made.

_I took liberties all my life. And the world took liberties with me._

This was a pretty solid film, though the pacing dragged at times, making it feel slower than it needed to be. Still, it was engaging enough to keep me watching.

Angelina Jolie was incredible—she captured Maria Callas’ pain and the grief of her fading voice so perfectly that it felt like she completely became the character.
You could feel the sadness of someone who had lost what once defined her, while also carrying the weight of heartbreak and loneliness from her past.
Her performance was easily the highlight for me.

The film was beautifully shot, with stunning cinematography and direction throughout.
It dives into Maria Callas’ final days while weaving in flashbacks from her life, shown in striking black-and-white.
These moments really captured her inner turmoil and the way she was consumed by her struggles for control and to be perfect again. The way it blurred the line between reality and delusion added a haunting quality to the story.
One scene that stood out was when she sits with her sister at the café and says, "I don't even know if you're real."

Overall, it’s a visually beautiful and emotionally moving film, even if the pacing held it back a little.

Form what I've seen this is the best Angelina Jolie's acting, the story of this talented woman is so sad, so tragic, so solitude. Kind of a resume of her life in the last days of existence. It's a great movie but I think it won't be remembered in 4 or 5 year at least.

This movie felt a little stretched out for the story it was telling.
It followed a somewhat predictable path, and the pacing was uneven. The first thirty minutes were slow, the middle section had some engaging moments, but the ending didn't quite hold my interest.
Ultimately, the portrayal of Maria Callas's story didn't personally resonate with me, the opposite of most biopics I have watched.

I did check wikipedia after it to learn more... 😄

Why are famous women so into ugly billionaires?

Pablo Larraín is a filmmaker whose works I will probably never become fond of. They usually impress with excellent cinematography and strong performances but are also somehow cold and boring. “Maria” is no exception.

The film is about the last days of the legendary opera singer Maria Callas, in which she hallucinates a lot on the one hand and thinks about her past on the other. The dialog feels like it is unnecessarily drawn out, and we learn very little about the private person behind the diva.

Obviously, Larraín is interested in other aspects of a biopic than I am. Ultimately, films should never feel like a chore, but the director's films always do for me. In this sense, I can't really recommend “Maria.”

Sashay Away! The lip syncs from Miss Jolie are reminiscent of amateur night at your local drag brunch. Angelina was not serving Maria, LA DAVINA! The eyebrows, the eyeshadow were not giving. Beautifully shot, it felt like a quaalude fever dream—a true tragedy

So long and boring, painfully boring. The best part was the 60 seconds of real clips of Maria at the end.