Many Golden Globe viewers were surprised when favourite-to-win Jeffrey Tambor was unseated in the Best Actor in a Comedy Series category by Gael García Bernal for Mozart in the Jungle. Amazon’s comedy series centres on a transitional period for the New York Symphony Orchestra, when new conductor Rodrigo De Souza (García Bernal) replaces the old maestro Thomas Pembridge (Malcolm McDowell). After watching Mozart’s first season, García Bernal’s performance stands out as the glue that holds together an optimistic show about the empowering nature of the arts. García Bernal’s win over comedy heavyweight Tambor speaks to a larger theme of Mozart in the Jungle—the series’ first season overall is a meditation on the victory and rise of the “underdog” in the arts, while simultaneously dismissing the idea of the underdog altogether.
The idea of García Bernal as an underdog is fairly disingenuous, given his long film career. The Mexican actor has displayed his considerable range after appearing in works by a remarkably high number of modern auteurs—Alfonso Cuarón, Walter Salles, Alejandro González Iñárritu, Michel Gondry, and Pedro Almodóvar, to name a few. Audience members’ reaction to him as a new, exciting, “exotic” figure is essentially illogical for such an established actor, an idea that is addressed in Mozart. After he is introduced as a new, young-blooded conductor, other characters discuss his backstory—although Rodrigo is young, he has been winning conducting awards and accolades since he was 12 years old, and is considered one of the best violin players in the world.
Recognizable old talent like Malcolm McDowell, Bernadette Peters, and Wallace Shawn appear in strong supporting performances, but Bernal is undeniably the “maestro” of Mozart. His fully realized performance as Rodrigo keeps him from becoming a stereotype or a caricature—his passion for music is always believable, and while he is quirky (as most geniuses are), Rodrigo is always endearing in how funny he is, and how kind to the people he interacts with. The archetype of the artistic genius who is also a terrible person is picked up elsewhere—McDowell is more of a cranky genius, whereas Rodrigo is scatterbrained, at times dramatic, but always pleasant and likable. Rodrigo also strongly opposes the orchestra’s attempt to “other” him for the promotional material. After seeing a poster based on the appeal of his signature long hair, Rodrigo argues against the nonsensical nature of “hear the hair” as a tagline, and promptly shears his locks.
Rodrigo, from humble beginnings himself, goes out of his way to take risks on the underdogs. The first episode sees him hire young oboist Hailey Ruttelidge because she “plays with blood.” Even after Hailey naturally messes up her first rehearsal, Rodrigo keeps her on as his assistant because he respects her talent and sees her potential as a person and a musician. In a later episode, Peters and McDowell work themselves into a dither because Rodrigo is late for a fundraiser—he gets sidetracked after realizing his Mexican limo driver is also a musician and fan, and goes to his family restaurant to perform for the driver’s sister.
In one particularly strong episode, Rodrigo busses the orchestra to a private lot in a residential area, where they perform Tchaikovsky’s . The event turns into a block party, the most old-school classical musicians loosen up, and the energy of a community united around music is infectious. However, Mozart does not shy away from the risks involved with attempting to integrate the classical arts with the public. The police break up the party and Rodrigo is arrested for disturbing the peace. Peters later tells him in the bluntest possible terms that his arrest could get him deported. This episode stands out as a reminder that there are often conditions attached to being a model minority in the arts—Rodrigo is respected as a musician and a genius, but only if he plays by the rules of the game. If not, there may not be a place for him in the symphony, or in America.
Mozart, overall, argues that the underdog is a myth, and talent is talent. Its strength lies in its respect for its characters, for the music, and, of course, in García Bernal’s deservedly award-winning performance. The message left ringing in your ears is that there is no high or low culture, only culture. The New York Symphony Orchestra could play a private lot for free, start a party with locals, and it will still feel right to everyone.
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