Immortal Beloved movie review (1995)

If Johanna is, by default, one of the three most important women in Beethoven's life, the other two are Countess Giulietta Guicciardi (Valeria Golino), who becomes his student and patron, and the older, wiser Countess Anna Maria Erdody (Isabella Rossellini), who stands up to Beethoven after he has gone into court to wrest young Karl away from Johanna, his mother.

In the scenes with Giulietta we see Beethoven's status as the most sought-after lion of the European musical scene; in his day, a great composer was the equivalent of today's rock stars, swooned over and showered with attention. He becomes the countess' piano teacher, but does not always play the game according to her world's rules: "A mistake is nothing," he tells her, "but the fact that you thump out the notes without the least sensitivity to their meaning is unforgivable, and your lack of passion is unforgivable. I shall have to beat you." She thinks he is teasing until he slaps her so hard that tears well in her eyes.

The scenes with the Rossellini character are among the best in the film, because here he finds a haven from his debts, from his troubles with the law, from his wars with his relatives, from his fawning admirers and mocking rivals. She sees most clearly his curious obsession with young Karl, which takes an odd turn: Beethoven stops composing entirely for five years in order to supervise Karl's education as a music virtuoso, despite the boy's tearful pleas to be allowed to become a soldier.

Beethoven's deafness is a subject through much of the film, including a precarious scene where the Rossellini character leads him from the stage after he grows confused during a public performance, and another in which he touches the wood of a pianoforte to hear the music through his fingers. He tried desperately to conceal his deafness, fearing it would destroy his livelihood, and on the soundtrack Rose sometimes reproduces what he can hear: Low rumbles curiously like the music of the whales.

This is the fourth film by the young British director Bernard Rose, after "Paperhouse" (1989), "Chicago Joe and the Showgirl" (1990) and "Candyman" (1992). The first was a masterpiece, a haunting fantasy about the secret mental worlds of children. The second, set in World War II, was a fanciful recreation of a relationship between a GI and a British girl, both living in their delusions. The third was about a legendary figure said to haunt Chicago public housing projects. In all three films Rose shows a remarkable gift for visualizing his themes: His films are stimulating to look at.