Maestro

Everything about Maestro is perfect in every way. Bradley Cooper’s voice and mannerisms are finely studied. His hair is immaculately coifed like Leonard Bernstein’s. The fake nose is faithful to its subject. His movements when he conducts are impeccably timed and excellent. Carey Mulligan’s blueblood accent is unmatched. Her acting is brilliant. Her hair is dreamy. The cinematography is the best this side of the Mississippi. Camera moves are precise and inspiring. The sets and scenes are gloriously designed; the style is gorgeous. The switch from black and white to color is awesome. The changes in the aspect ratio are pitch-perfect. The cinematography is stellar; perhaps Nobel prize winning. Steven Spielberg’s superb producing is wonderful and marvelous. I’m sure the Twizzlers at craft service were delicious and fresh and not even remotely stale. Everything, and I mean everything, about this is divine and ineffable and unparalleled in the history of art throughout the known galaxy. A+++. 

 So, it’s kind of annoying. I feel dumb, but I didn’t really get into it.