The current Covid-19 pandemic is affecting lives and concert performances. As such, many are relying even more on the social media for work and entertainment. Coda is a recently released DVD movie featuring Patrick Stewart as venerable concert pianist Henry Cole, Katie Holmes as Helen Morrison, a spirited writer for The New Yorker and Giancarlo Esposito as Paul, Cole’s faithful manager.
So maybe I’m a bit of a purist when it comes to stereotypical dramas about classical musicians but one encouraging thing to say about Coda is the score which gives Serhiy Salov, a Canadian pianist of Ukrainian ancestry a chance to be heard in snippets of blockbuster piano repertoire by composers like Schumann, Chopin, Scarlatti, Beethoven, Schubert, Scriabin, Rachmaninoff, Liszt. Salov’s playing has a mark of distinction, finesse and maturity which makes this film worth watching at least once.
It also highlights the important issue of performance anxiety experienced by many individuals and high profile entertainers, actors and musicians. In spite of writer Louis Godbout’s script sounding like a clichéd and veiled rehashing of the life of luminary virtuoso and recluse Vladimir Horowitz, a variety of publications discuss and offer tips about this problem including Sara Solovitchs’ book, Playing Scared. In this regard Leopold Godowsky and Glenn Gould among others come to mind.
Coda is not an upbeat film and even the music has a tinge of melancholic darkness to it. The story zeros in on the struggles and a few hang-ups of Cole, an aging pianist making a long awaited return to the concert stage who is overwhelmed by bouts of performance anxiety that impede his impeccable keyboard ability. He is pursued and temporarily befriended by Morrison who tries and ultimately succeeds in landing an interview and developing a relationship as his personal confidant and quasi-Life Coach. Implausible but Cole is cast as one of the greatest pianists of the century so why not have Holmes, a former Juilliard piano student turned music critic after career aspirations went bust become his well-intentioned groupie.
Director Claude Lalonde creates a mishmash of scenes where Cole is playing, trying to play or breaking down. Throughout the 97 minute story the action jumps from onstage and offstage interactions, the Bronx Zoo, chess games and Cole trekking through the Swiss Alps. There is a touching moment when Daniel, a young boy walks on stage with Cole after his concert and plays the opening of Chopin’s Ballade, Op. 38. Not bad for a twelve-year-old, I mean kudos to Salov.
Other intriguing scenes include Cole trying out pianos in front of a small entourage of reporters (probably at a Steinway show room) when he is seized by a panic attack and basically freezes. Holmes, who is among the group sits down at the bench with Cole and they both play a four-hand arrangement of Habanera from Bizet’s Carmen – by memory of course. And there is Cole playing in concert the coda of Chopin’s Ballade, Op. 52 when he is suddenly overcome with angst which causes him to make a rare mistake. Well, those who have played the f minor Ballade with its challenging ending could certainly understand how this might happen to almost anyone, anytime, anywhere.
To summarize the principal actors: Stewart, who receives accolades for his work in theater, film and television as Captain Jean-Luc Picard in Star Trek: The Next Generation is a master at providing less is more expressions that range from monochromatic glumness to chiseled stares. His bravura demeanor when playing is also quite convincing; Holmes, whose rise to recognition began with the television series Dawson’s Creek provides a kind of effervescent realism to the role as does Esposito (his long list of credits include Spike Lee films) - commendable given the script’s lack of depth.
Towards the end of the movie, Cole is at a concert listening to the opening Arietta movement from Beethoven’s sonata Op. 111 played by Salov in a cameo appearance. The scene captures the intimacy of the music and longing of Cole to break free from the burden of performance anxiety. Coda offers an esoteric but certainly relevant account of what performers might experience on and off the concert stage. It is a Clinamen Films production and was released on DVD March 31.