Blue Moon – Film Review
by Brian Merriman

Directed by Richard Linklater
Written by Robert Kaplow, inspired by the letters of Lorenz Hart and Elizabeth Weiland.
Starring: Ethan Hawke, Margaret Qualley, Bobby Cannavale, Andrew Scott and Simon Delaney.
Music by Graham Reynolds

Duration 100 minutes 

Blue Moon is that rare cinematic treat that reminds us of the heroes of the golden age of the American Musical. It is as if a theatrical play has been filmed in situ (primarily in Dublin, with production also taking place at Ardmore Studios in Wicklow). It centres on a remarkable performance by Ethan Hawke as the acclaimed lyricist Lorenz Hart, who died young in 1943. Hart was the original writing partner of composer Richard Rodgers. Blue Moon is a real cinematic treat for lovers of musical theatre, but it’s also an impressive treatment of this complex talent’s life, too often avoided by previous stories of his life. It gives an intriguing and revealing insight into living in the closet, in a hostile time for gay people.

Hart, born in 1895, had all the indicators of the stereotyped closeted gay man of the time. He was unmarried and lived with his elderly mother. He was a compulsive talker and entertainer. If you were talking, you couldn’t be questioned – hence Hawkes’ breathless, almost uninterrupted opening 45 minutes in Sardi’s bar. Hart, as is obvious from his lyrics, was a gifted observer of life, love and laughter. His Wildean storytelling, matched later by Noel Coward, Quentin Crisp, etc, was witty, engaging and in his case, a necessary social deflection, often fuelled by alcoholism.

Hart says he needed to understand loving men and women to write about them. He, like Wilde, was devoted to female beauty and talent. Wilde lavished praise on stars from Lily Langtry to Dame Nellie Melba. He acknowledges this in the ‘Picture of Dorian Gray’ when Dorian is briefly consumed by the talented and beautiful Sybil Vane to disastrous effect. In Blue Moon, Hart is talking effusively about sex and attraction openly, with Sardi’s barman Eddie, a finely cast Bobby Cannavale.

Andie McDowell’s daughter, Margaret Qualley, plays Sarah as the platinumed ‘objet d’esir’ as Elizabeth, though aged 20 years to his 47. She is the star-struck writer/designer who is flattered by Hart’s interest and the opportunity this presents for networking. Elizabeth (Weiland) is kind to Hart, being in no doubt as to where his real attractions lie. There is a desperation in his latest attention, as if she were to reciprocate his devotion, then all doubts about him would be resolved in public. Hart’s desperation is beautifully captured by both actor and writer.

Hart was a plain-looking man in a beautiful industry. He was about five feet tall, requiring Hawke to play short, at times looking more like Ronnie Corbett in an oversized suit, rather than the usual masculine roles Hawke has thrived in. It is just one of the many elements of Hawkes’ sustained, crafted and tireless performance. Hawke’s theatrical career is used to the maximum in handling this eloquent theatrical script, which could transfer seamlessly from screen to stage, if required.

Writer Kaplow has lovingly etched the complexities of Hart’s tormented life, which ricocheted between memorable lyrics, desire and depression. There is an obvious respect from Kaplow in the writing for the subject and this is what Hart’s memory deserves, after previous opaque interpretations.

Hart’s accurate memory has too often floundered on the demand that evidence must be on the record, from a cruel, invisible and hostile time. This was exacerbated in a time of war, when being gay would bring ruin, criminal sentence and ostracisation. Evidence is a selfish demand from a time complacent to erase and now to insist on a modern-day evidential record in order to be believed. Even a hint then was enough to condemn in those days, and there were more than hints about Hart’s desire, as evidenced in many of his lyrics, including the intimate ‘Dancing on the Ceiling’:

“The world is lyrical
Because a miracle
Has brought my lover to me
Though he’s some other place, his face I see
At night, I creep in bed
And never sleep in bed
But look above in the air
And to my greatest joy, my love is there
He dances overhead
On the ceiling near my bed
In my sight
Through the night
I try to hide in vain
Underneath my counterpane
But there’s my love
Up above
I whisper, “Go away, my lover
It’s not fair”
But I’m so grateful to discover
He’s still there”

– Dancing on the Ceiling – Lyrics by Lorenz Hart

Hart’s alcoholism and its resultant unreliability push lifelong friend Richard Rodgers (a suave and sympathetic Andrew Scott) to seek new writing partners such as Oscar Hammerstein II (strongly played by Simon Delaney) as the film is set on the opening night of Oklahoma! in New York.

There are some funny, bitchy theatre lines about that show, well delivered. There is a lovely cameo where Hammerstein introduces Hart to a neighbour’s child, a young (Sheldon-like) Stephen Sondheim, nicely played by Cillian Sullivan, who would later become lifelong friends with Rodgers’ composer daughter, Mary.

There are so many rich musical theatre layers to Kaplow’s screenplay. They are a joy for ‘anoraks’ and entertaining for all.

Director Linklater delivers in style in this ninth collaboration with Hawkes, celebrating a thirty-year artistic friendship. He crafts a remarkable against-type performance with Hawkes that will surprise and impress many. It is likely to feature in awards season, though the film itself may not fully resonate with a younger generation, who seem to be sentenced to living in an era of jukebox or compilation musicals that are vehicles to thread together existing hit pop songs.

Hart and Rodgers penned five hundred songs in their collaborative career, which ended abruptly with Hart’s tragic demise, aged 47. Their refrains form a delicious piano underscore throughout this movie homage to a complex talent, whose hits like Blue Moon, Manhattan, Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, The Lady Is A Tramp and My Funny Valentine, amongst scores of others. They add to the atmospheric sense of time and romance that pours off the screen, reminding us of a time past.

On the night we meet these theatrically legendary characters, Hart’s hit Musicals like On Your Toes, A Connecticut Yankee, Babes in Arms, Boys from Syracuse and Pal Joey, seem to pale a little as Broadway hails Rodgers’ newest hit, Oklahoma! Though Rodgers went on to write many more hits with Hammerstein, he always credited Hart’s talent and ability in inspiring him to write for the theatre.  The action takes place at the opening night party, which, surprisingly, Hart attends and makes his presence felt. The reviews pour in, and Oklahoma! is on its way to being an all-time great. Hart feels his fame and collaboration fade and date.

With all the technological effects available to filmmakers, it is refreshing and nostalgic to get a story, a musical story, played theatrically, relying on the skill of the performers to take our hand through 100 minutes of an opening night where past and present collide in the demanding industry that goes from hit to hit on Broadway. A storytelling film like this sadly comes once in a blue moon, and it will leave you bewitched, bothered and bewildered by the revealing presence of a small man who longed for his own funny valentine.