This biopic feels like the least conventional and most puzzling one I've encountered. It loosely traces the life of Gustav Mahler (Robert Powell), employing a train journey with his wife Alma (Georgina Hale) and selections from his music to explore how things arrived at this point. It’s clear their marriage isn’t thriving; she feels frustrated by the time he dedicates to composing and conducting, and despite enjoying a comfortable life with their children, she desires something different. He, meanwhile, is so absorbed in his artistic pursuits that he seems oblivious—or perhaps doesn't acknowledge—the possibility of her leaving him for a confident soldier who challenges a visibly unwell Mahler within the train car. Ken Russell avoids offering a straightforward account of their volatile relationship. Instead, we’re shown scenes jumping around in time, featuring other passengers and even porters, to depict their luxurious unhappiness while also experiencing flashbacks showcasing happier moments, family gatherings, and times of better health. It's as if someone scattered the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle representing his life into the air. We must attempt to reconstruct it, but we only have fragments of a reference image to guide us, which, combined with his powerful music, creates a more complex experience than the title might suggest. In some respects, this could easily be mistaken for an Ingmar Bergman film—the costumes, photography, and striking lighting possess a certain coldness that blends classic aesthetics with detachment. While “chemistry” isn’t quite accurate, there's definitely something present between Powell and Hale in their roles. One scene, depicting Mahler inside a glass-topped coffin, is strikingly surreal and encapsulates this unique interpretation of the life of an elusive man consumed by his art. The film’s sound design truly elevates the musical arrangements; however, even if you aren't familiar with his compositions, it represents unusual filmmaking at its finest.

Source on TMDB