It’s easy to understand why big-screen events are so popular when you appreciate how amazing it is to experience a full orchestra—with pieces by Pucchini or Verdi—and the powerful voice of the lead singer through a cinema sound system. While I would have enjoyed more singing, Pablo Larraín didn't set out to create an exhaustive collection; instead, he partnered with Angelina Jolie to portray this complex woman’s final week in Paris during 1977. She resides in a luxurious apartment supported by her two devoted and caring assistants, Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher) and Ferruccio (Pierfrancesco Favino). They've been with her for years and are accustomed to managing her unpredictable moods, her reliance on medication, and her habit of moving the piano around with considerable effort. Each day she leaves her apartment adorned in furs and jewelry, wanders through the city, and eventually arrives at a theater where she contemplates returning to singing after more than four years. I did find the way the story was assembled quite clever, utilizing Kodi Smith-McPhee as her attractive new acquaintance "Mandrax," who conducts a television interview that allows her to recall memories. She has many memories, as we see flashbacks of her childhood in Nazi-occupied Greece alongside her ascent to fame and then her damaging and controlling relationship with Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer), which ultimately ended her career. Her staff is so worried that they bring in a doctor (Vincent Macaigne) who offers some serious warnings for a woman who rarely eats and keeps pills scattered around her home; however, Jolie’s nuanced performance reveals that she can no longer distinguish between reality and fantasy and simply wants to finally live—and sing—for herself, regardless of the outcome. It's striking how many people who achieved fame and fortune in entertainment ended up like Callas, and this rather disheartening truth is effectively presented here through a thoughtful portrayal from an actress whose physical appearance also helped to persuade and evoke some compassion. There are also a few voice comparisons then and now for her (and for us) to compare and possibly feel regret over. The character development isn't deep—there’s no avoiding that; we move through her life without really delving into what motivated her, whether it was upward or downward—but I suppose the intention wasn't a documentary, more of an empathetic introduction to her beautiful voice, music, and tragedy. If you are seeking detailed information, this isn't the film for you, but rather a superficial yet effective look at a musical genius; that’s something I can certainly concede.

Source on TMDB