Watching Tár in the midst of Kanye West committing career suicide is a fascinating exercise in perfect timing.

Though the downfall of EGOT-winning composer/conductor Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) as her past transgressions come back to haunt her shares little with the specifics of the antisemitic hip-hop artist’s recent fall from grace, the public manner with which factual and fictional accounts unfold and both figures’ tangled psychology nevertheless feel oddly interchangeable.

A beautiful, challenging, unsettling film, Todd Field’s first feature since 2007’s terrific Little Children consistently works on its own wavelength and inspires career-best work from Blanchett — no small feat for an actor with one of the all-time great resumés.

Field’s command is evident early on, first in a public Q&A between Lydia and The New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik (playing himself) that provides plentiful background on the conductor, and then in a bravura, single-take, 10-minute scene in a Juilliard classroom where Lydia takes overly-PC student Max (Zethphan Smith-Gneist) to task for his dismissal of Bach.

In the latter, for her ability to deliver a stream of complex thoughts while in motion and engaging with multiple actors, Blanchett deserves to win her third Academy Award, and yet over two hours of moments that showcase her immense range are still to come.

They’re soon on display once Lydia is reunited with her partner Sharon (Nina Hoss, Phoenix) back in Berlin, where the bulk of the film’s remaining action occurs, as well as in Lydia’s dealings with her assistant Francesca (Noémie Merlant, Portrait of a Lady on Fire) and the various members of the Berlin Philharmonic.

The setting suggests plenty of musical moments, but for a film firmly set in this world, Tár is strangely one of the year’s quietest offerings. In turn, it requires a fair amount of patience, but the ensemble-wide strong performances and an uncompromising filmmaker’s wholly realized vision sustain attention in the absence of a traditional score.

Within this unusual milieu, Field’s words and themes prove all the more impactful as Lydia can’t help but fall back on her toxic ways with new cellist Olga (real-life player Sophie Kauer). This time is different, however, as Lydia finds herself comically incompatible and obsolete with Olga’s modern ways of discovering and experiencing music, leaving this relic always one step behind her latest pursuit — a distance that winds up costing her more than she anticipates.

The fallout from these miscalculations and other proverbial chickens coming home to roost are difficult to weather, yet through it all, Blanchett’s phenomenal turn and Field’s confident direction remain powerful through-lines. It’s inspiring to see a filmmaker wholly uninterested in playing by anyone’s rules — and such rebellious work demands to be celebrated.

Grade: A-minus. Rated R. Now playing at the Fine Arts Theatre

(Photo: Focus Features)