By: Lana K. Wilson-Combs
A LONELY GENIUS: "BLUE MOON" FINDS THE SOUL OF LORENZ HART THROUGH ETHAN HAWKE
Ethan Hawke may not walk away with an Oscar for his masked and maniacal role as "The Grabber" in the horror sequel "Black Phone 2," which is currently in theaters, but his commanding turn as lyricist
Lorenz Hart in his other captivating new film,
"Blue Moon," should have him squarely back in the awards conversation.
In this biographical dramedy, Hawke vanishes into the complex, often tormented figure of Hart--one half of the legendary Richard Rodgers and Hart songwriting duo--and delivers a performance that is deeply nuanced, heartbreakingly human, and utterly magnetic.
Directed with warmth and restraint by
Richard Linklater ("Hit Man" and "Untitled John Brinkley Biopic") and written by Robert Kaplow ("Me and Orson Welles"), "Blue Moon" offers more than just a behind-the-scenes peek into the Golden Age of American musical theater.
It's a poignant character study that examines genius, alienation, and the cost of brilliance. Hart's collaborations with composer Richard Rodgers gave us timeless American standards like "The Lady Is a Tramp," "Manhattan," "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered," "My Funny Valentine," and, of course, the 1934 hauntingly beautiful "Blue Moon." The film honors those classics without becoming a jukebox musical. Instead, it is driven by character and conversation--by what is said and what's painfully left unsaid.
Hawke's physical transformation is initially jarring. With his diminutive stature, thinning hair, and nervous energy, he doesn't look much like the actor we're used to. But within minutes, the illusion fades, and we are left with something far more powerful: a fully realized, emotionally resonant portrayal of a man caught between his musical gift and the personal demons--mostly alcoholism and depression--that haunted him. Hawke plays Hart as a man whose wit is as quick as his loneliness is deep, layering every glance and line with bittersweet subtext.
The film unfolds mostly within the wood-paneled walls of Sardi's, the iconic Manhattan restaurant where Hart finds himself among old friends and new tensions on the night of the 1943 Broadway premiere of "Oklahoma!" It is an awkward reunion with Richard Rodgers, (Andrew Scott, "All of Us Strangers" and "Pressure"), marking the first time the two have seen each other since parting ways professionally. Also in attendance is Rodgers' new musical partner, Oscar Hammerstein II (Simon Delaney, TV’s "Lockerbie: A Search for Truth"), savoring the moment and working the room. Delaney wisely avoids caricature, offering a thoughtful, grounded presence that quietly hints at the seismic shift happening in American musical theater--a shift that, along with Hart's reckless lifestyle, ultimately left the lyricist behind.
The restaurant setting may seem static, but Linklater uses it to stage conversations like a playwright, allowing each line of dialogue to breathe, building a slow-burning emotional tension that pays off in small but devastating ways.
Among the standout moments are the quiet, late-night bar conversations between Hawke and the wisecracking yet compassionate bartender Eddie (a terrific Bobby Cannavale, "Unstoppable" and TV's "Only Murders in the Building"), who seems to understand more than he lets on. Their exchanges are some of the film's most emotionally revealing, especially when Hart opens up about his conflicted feelings toward a young, beautiful Yale undergraduate and ambitious rising star named Elizabeth Weiland (a charming Margaret Qualley, "Happy Gilmore 2"). Although Hart was "closeted" and primarily gay, his infatuation with Elizabeth reveals a desperate yearning for another connection. When Elizabeth eventually tells him she doesn't feel the same way--that she doesn't "love him that way" --it's a moment that lands like a punch to the gut. Hawke doesn't overplay it; instead, he lets the silence and heartbreak settle in, while Jonah Lee’s piano accompaniment as Morty Rifkin subtly shifts into a mournful melody that mirrors that scene as well as others emotional weight.
There is also a brief but delightful exchange between Hart and "The Elements of Style" and "Charlotte's Web" author E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy, TV's "The Day of the Jackal"), a moment that feels both refreshingly human and unexpectedly funny.
What makes "Blue Moon" so remarkable is its unapologetic embrace of old-fashioned, Hollywood-style storytelling where dialogue does the heavy lifting and character development is prioritized over spectacle. There's little music for a film about a musical legend, and that choice is bold but effective. The restraint allows us to see Hart not just as a musical genius, but as a man wrestling with identity, rejection, and his place in a rapidly changing world.
This talkiness--this focus on intimacy over grandiosity--is exactly what gives "Blue Moon" its unique power. It doesn't try to dazzle; it tries to understand. In doing so, the film feels like a quiet rebellion against some of the other fast cut, overscored, emotionally shallow biopics.
"Blue Moon" is also a fitting tribute to Hart himself, a man whose lyrics spoke volumes between the lines, and whose story finally gets the intelligent, sensitive treatment it deserves.
Editor's Note: Be sure to catch my N2Entertainment.net movie talk segment on the Kitty O'Neal Show Fridays now at 5:17 p.m. and 6:47 p.m. on radio station KFBK 93.1 FM and 1530 AM.
Go Ahead And Watch This Trailer For
"BLUE MOON"
Lana K. Wilson-Combs is a member of the Broadcast Film Critics Association (BFCA), The American Film Institute (AFI), and a Nominating Committee Voting Member for the NAACP Image Awards.
