"Blue Moon" - Review

Once adored, famous composer Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke. I kept writing "Larenz" at first, maybe I'm thinking about "Dead Presidents" too much) sits in a bar on the opening night of "Oklahoma!", composed by his old partner Richard Rodgers. He reminisces on the glory days, seethes about Rodgers' newfound success with a talentless hack Hammerstein, and esposes hagigraphic overtures to the muse and love of his life, Elizabeth (Margaret Qualley) to the bartender Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), pianist Morty (Jonah Rees) and anyone else who will listen or merely be in the vacinity.

(Photo credit: IMDB)
Magnificent.
I watched this the same day as "The Running Man". That movie has a budget of $110,000,000 and left me feeling an empty nothingness I will forget about in 6 hours; this one cost £2,000,000 (which probably wouldn't cover that movie's catering budget) and was a witty, thoughtful, funny, pensive little tour-de-force showcase for one of the best to do it, and sticks in my memory days later.
Whilst something of a meme between my partner and myself, we forget that Ethan Hawke is actually really bloody good, and this is his most magnetic, compelling, hypnotic performance outside of the "Before" trilogy. It feels like a stage play, from author Robert Kaplow, and whilst verbose, is still fiercely intelligently written: Hart is eloquent and fun to be around (par for the course with an Ethan Hawke character), bouncing off of the simpler Eddie in a class play, but we see him push and pull against his own takes on art (so confidently thrown out early on out of earshot of their targets) when actually defending their success and appeal against Rodgers (a rather good Andrew Scott) or a clearly disinterested writer by the name of E.B White (Patrick Kennedy): it's not necessarily a case of all crown and no filling, however. The film has discussions about the accessibility of art, purity of art, the "real America" Versus an America which never exists (illustrated with his Hart sees his own works, from a quaint and already nostalgia-infused time, something he is oblivious to on the surface, but maybe simply avoiding); all with a subtle self-loathing and deflection and self-awareness. It's really a wonderful character for Hawke to sink his teeth into, especially when the creepier, more possessive and ambiguously obsessive sexual (maybe?) angle comes in with Elizabeth (an excellent Qualley), culminating in the 3rd act in a conversation between the two littered with history and subtext and different wants and needs. Unlike some lesser central works focusing on a single performance in the centre where every other part is in service of the central actor, this one has room for actors to breathe and explore: Andrew Scott's awkwardness at being cornered by an old friend clinging to the past; Patrick Kennedy trying to be polite and droll, matching him intellectually but finding him a tad odd or dull; and Qualley is fantastic in the last act, a much-welcome relief from that festering piece of shit "Honey, Don't!" (her accent slips through her and it's fun), and the writing features callbacks and long-term gags paying off later (Bobby Cannavale, always excellent and usually underused, gets one of the best).
The film is funny too, very funny in fact.
And not to underplay the directing: it's not flashy but doesn't have to be, it's a 2 location piece, and Linklater (oh yeah, of course Richard Linklater directed this) works wonderfully with his actors and keeps it from feeling staid or claustrophobic.
I loved this. I absolutely loved this.