Maria is director Pablo Larraín’s final film in his biopic trilogy of iconic 20th Century women. After the disappointing Jackie and almost unwatchable Spencer, this reviewer didn’t hold out much hope for Maria, and the opening minutes appeared to confirm my suspicions.  A closeup of Jolie miming to Callas is intercut with artsy-fartsy recreations of newsreels, home movies and photo shoots, concluded with a clapper board inscribed with the film’s title. Then the titular character announces to her long-suffering staff that what is real and not real is her business, heralding a captivating depiction of the diva’s final week.

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The first sign that all is not what it appears occurs when Callas advises she is soon to be interviewed by Mandrax, a reporter who shares his name with her drug of choice. Accompanying him through the streets of Paris, Callas reminisces about her life and career as she encounters operatic hallucinations, visions of Aristotle Onassis and an allay helping her regain her voice. All the while her devoted butler does all her can to save her from herself and others.

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Whatever his faults as a filmmaker, Pablo Larrain could never be accused of making biopics ‘by the numbers’ (his previous film El Conde turned Chilean dictator Pinochet into a vampire!). Yet with Maria, his abilities are thankfully not outweighed by his ambitions. The line between what’s real and imagined are wonderfully complemented by black and white flashbacks, gloriously filmed fantasies and an expert blending of Callas and Jolie’s singing. Also pitch-perfect is Haluk Bilginer’s performance as Aristotle Onassis, though Kodi Smit-McPhee proves ineffectual as Mandrax.

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As for Jolie, this role confirms a range that she rarely has the chance to deliver. All at once fragile, defiant, confused and witty, Jolie mesmerizingly anchors this highwire act. During the course of the film her character states “I’m in the mood for adulation”. After this performance, the actress should prepare herself for it is richly deserved.​​