At the beginning of the new doc Dear Lara we meet world-renowned violinist Lara St. John. She enters a lit stage. The camera keeps a tight mid-shot on her and she begins to play a shrill, melancholy piece of music. St. John wants you to know one thing. What you are about to hear is difficult. What you are about to see is a heavy watch. But it is needed. Musician and now filmmaker, St. John, directs Dear Lara, a highly personal documentary about the predatory practices in the world of classical music. It is an expose of a systemic problem that highlights the true nature of humans in power that is equally depressing and inspiring.
We begin by learning St. John’s story. Growing up in Canada, St. John and her brother are accepted into the elite Curtis Institute in Philadelphia. At the age of 14, St. John endures sexual assault at the hands of her professor under threat of expulsion for both she and her brother. When she finally decides to report the matter, the head of the school simply shrugs and says that there is nothing to be done. St. John finally reaches out to The Philadelphia Inquirer and, in 2019, her story is published. The floodgates open and she is soon, overwhelmed with stories from fellow survivors.
This is the launchpad from which Dear Lara begins. The first third of the doc tells St. John’s story and the story of a handful of other talented musicians who were abused at the hands of their teachers. St. John visits music schools around the world exposing the same story. Predatory professors are allowed intimate one on one time with their pupils resulting in irreparable harm. This section also explores the jaw-dropping status quo among faculty that turns a blind eye in the sake of reputation and personal gain. The litany and repetition of the story is nauseating and infuriating. How could so many young, talented, vulnerable children be harmed then ignored? With all respect, this portion of the doc went on too long. Maybe that was the point. At a certain point though things become a blur and we ache for recourse.
We do get it as St. John is also a meticulous investigative reporter who takes us along as we follow up on the various incidents of abuse are unearthed and pursued. Some institutions respond with the patent response of “We are looking into the matter and will take this very seriously.” Some never respond. One, however, moves quickly and decisively. The point is that there is still hope. We also find respite in the endless drive and tenacity of musicians who were once victims of abuse who have now become staunch advocates for others including Robie Brown, Lisamarie Vana, Mascha van Sloten, Zeneba Bowers, Katherine Needleman, Heather Bird, and St. John’s brother Scott St. John.
In the last third of the doc, St. John reconnects with Peter Dobrin. He is one of the original authors of her story in The Philadelphia Inquirer and they meet up to assess the situation five years later. Has anything changed? They stare at each other and confess, “not much.” So what’s the point of speaking out? As long as there is a chance, evil will find a way.. The point is to keep going. When you stop fighting, evil wins.
St. John proves herself a capable filmmaker, an excellent reporter and a strong survivor.
Dear Lara – 7/10
