A Star is Born (2018)

The key line comes early: “A Jon Peters Production.” Bradley Cooper’s new film closely adheres to the previous Jon Peters version, the one with Barbra and Kris. Very closely. Only out of discretion was this not titled Another Jon Peters Production, Another Star is Born.

Ally’s leggy version of  “La vie en rose” evokes Judy Garland sufficiently for Cooper to have cut her “Over the Rainbow” from the film (it’s still in the credits). His Jackson Maine replaces Norman Maine. But apart from these homages the ’76 version weighs more heavily than the ’54 on this update. (The March/Gaynor nonmusical is out of it altogether). Bradley looks and sounds like and plays Kristofferson. Ally has Barbra’s nose-concern. The score is updated but kindred.

The plot still works. That’s the nature of art, recombining familiar, basic elements, as Jack explains the elemental power of the 12-note core of music: “Music is essentially 12 notes between any octave - 12 notes and the octave repeat. It's the same story told over and over, forever. All any artist can offer this world is how they see those 12 notes. That's it.”

   The songs, lyrics, music and overall production deserve their warm reception. 

But I find the acting plaudits overhyped. If there are any proper Oscar performance nominations here they are Andrew Rice Clay as All’s father and Dave Chappelle as Jack’s friend. They feel real and new to them. The others make only marginal departures from their familiar personae. 

Lady Gaga is a pleasant and impressive surprise, but she remains an image not a fully-rounded new character. To remember what an Oscar-worthy “performance” might be, check out Glenn Close in The Wife. That is a nuanced, intense, deep apprehension of a character on another level altogether. That’s “acting.” Lady Gaga was excellent, but more as a surprising presence than as a fully realized new “being.” 

In my favourite irony, when Ally — in Jack’s view — sells out and accepts her new manager’s showbiz glitz over her simple sincerity, she lets herself be remade into — Lady Gaga. On that SNL show she perfectly matches Alec Baldwin’s persuasive “performance” of himself.

Cooper makes his Jack the centre of this film more than James Mason or Kristofferson were. He gives himself the more fully detailed backstory, with his problematic dad, sibling rivalry and debilitating afflictions. 

When his addictions are described as a “disease” the film is more attuned to our understanding than the 1950s. But the old puritanism persists when brother Bobby assures Ally it was all Jack’s fault. A disease isn’t the victim’s fault, remember? There’s more balance in Jack’s tinnitis, the other physical affliction that he fails to address and treat. 
     I show my age here, but this fine film doesn’t supplant the Garland-Mason one. I hope it encourages younger audiences to check that one out. It may be time “to let the old ways die,” but it’s also the time to revive the best old art.