Toscanini: In His Own Words

Cinematic docudramas and docufictions seem to be in vogue today (Frost/Nixon and Lives of Others come easily to mind). This, combined with the ability of DVDs to reach a niche audience, affords filmmakers an opportunity to approach subjects which otherwise might never see the light of day. Larry Weinstein's recent work Toscanini: In His Own Words is based upon over 150 hours of surreptitiously recorded taped interviews made by Arturo Toscanini's son, Walter at his Wave Hill home in New York during the 1950s. In this film, these multiple revelations are woven together to create one fictional New Year's Eve celebration at home in 1954 where a widowed Toscanini (Barry Jackson) is joined by his son Walter (Joseph Long), his daughter Wally (Carolina Giammetta), the Canadian conductor Wilfred Pelletier (Michael Brandon), his long serving assistant and friend Anita Colombo (Jennie Goossens), and Iris Cantelli, the wife of his protégé, conductor Guido Cantelli (Valentina Chico) for a discussion of the maestro's entire life.

While the performances seem to be a bit contrived and melodramatic, there is unquestionable elegance in the setting and efforts to explore the mystique of Toscanini through this representation of his thoughts. From the film, Toscanini emerges as a highly self-critical man, who equally spared no one his views and opinions on music and the world. The result of this is a contemporary, perhaps revisionist view of Toscanini, as more modern man than might otherwise be expected, with a deep moral sense of duty and humanity, which was tempered by infidelity and personal doubt. His political views about Mussolini and Hitler, his opinions of the music of Wagner, Verdi, Puccini, and Catalani, of performers such as Geraldine Farrar, Maria Callas, and Leopold Stokow ski bear witness to his sharp tongue and incisive mind. Quotes such as "I recognize only the stars in heaven" and "You can't understand a word she sings" remind us of the power that the conductors exerted during the Toscanini years, and which have been replaced by an egalitarianism which would have appalled him had he been alive today.

The skillful interposition of vibrant kinescopic archival footage and recordings along with reconstructed black and white as well as color video images contribute much to the warmth of the film, adding to this viewer's perception of Toscanini as a less formidable man than before. (Full disclosure: my father played in the NBC Sym phony under Toscanini, and I heard many stories of those sessions.) Watching his eyes in the final scene conducting the Liebestod, one can still feel the power of Toscanini's music making, after all these years. Curious inconsistencies appear throughout the film (is an accelerando really a dynamic marking?) and the obvious imposition of a recording of the Valkyries over a different video track results in a lack of synchronization that is jarring to say the least. Lastly, the use of more recent recordings by performers other than Toscanini seemed out of place, and unnecessary. The value of this film however is in its intent, to successfully provide rare insight into the life of the Maestro through this unique and personal source. To that effort, Walter Toscanini might really emerge as the most important character in this film.