Blue Moon
Margaret Qualley and Ethan Hawke in “Blue Moon.” Sony Pictures Classics photo via IMDb
Blue Moon
You saw me standin' alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Ethan Hawke makes himself almost unrecognizable to play Lorenz Hart, the man who wrote those words.
Hart was five-feet tall, balding, a cigar always in his mouth, his back so curved his chin barely clears the bar at Sardi's where he spends most of the movie “Blue Moon” yakking away. His sad – if witty and sometimes brilliant – monologues are performed for bartender Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), piano player Knuckles (Jonah Lees) and assorted folks who stop by the legendary Broadway celebrity hangout one fateful night in 1943.
Showcasing the alcoholism and other sorts of self-destructiveness that would kill him at age 48 seven months later, it's a daring, all-in performance by Hawke. It's already getting buzz this awards season.
Whether or not it nabs an Oscar nomination or two, it won't win many hearts in audiences looking for a fun night out at the movies.
With composer Richard Rodgers providing the melodies, Lorenz Hart penned the sophisticated lyrics of countless Great American Songbook staples. Along with the movie's title tune, there was “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered.” “My Romance.” “Manhattan.” “My Heart Stood Still.” “The Lady Is a Tramp.” And on. And on … close to a thousand songs.
For two decades Rogers and Hart were a dynamic duo on Broadway and Hollywood. Piano bar songs on the soundtrack offer nonstop tribute to their musical glories, with echoes of contemporaries like the Gershwins, Cole Porter, Harold Arlen, Irving Berlin and even George M. Cohan.
Unfortunately, Robert Kaplow's script doesn't immortalize Lorenz Hart for all his achievements, but instead, for being the man who didn't write “Oklahoma!”
Richard Linklater is once again Ethan Hawke's go-to director, confining the film's action essentially to one set, unfolding in something like real time on the night of March 31, 1943. For America, in those uncertain early years of World War II, that was the night “Oklahoma!” opened on Broadway and changed everything.
Rodgers and Hart were still a team when they began adapting the play “Green Grow the Lilacs” into a musical. Unfortunately, Hart's habit of going on weeks-long benders instead of showing up for work finally pushed Rodgers to his breaking point. As luck would have it, another lyricist was available. His name was Oscar Hammerstein II.
The rest, as they say, would become history, not just on Broadway but on community theater and high school stages to this day.
Lorenz Hart was in the audience for “Oklahoma!'s” opening night. But the corn as high as an elephant's eye, not to mention the dancing cowboys and the exclamation mark at the end of the title were more than his urbane Manhattan sensibilities could take. So he retreated to Sardi's for some lubricated self-pity an hour before the creators of the show, along with adoring first nighters would arrive to await the reviews.
Those reviews proved to be raves, hardly a recipe for improving Lorenz Hart's state of mind. His conversations with Richard Rodgers (Adam Scott), basking in triumph, are heartbreaking.
Among all the self-deceptions Hart concocts to help make it through the night, is his torrid passion for Elizabeth Weiland (Margaret Qualley), an aspiring stage artist and daughter of the president of the theater guild. Half his age and his devoted protege, her final admission that she doesn't have those feelings for him is just one more knife in the heart.
The fact that Hart was, in fact, gay in those closeted times certainly wouldn't do much to change those feelings on Elizabeth's part. But when he confides to Richard Rodgers that he is in love with her – “everyone is” – he speaks from the heart.
Insecurities, self-doubt and fear are as integral to the creative process as the exhilaration and joy of success. Hawke's portrayal uniquely illustrates the torture not of a has-been, but of what could have been.
Following last year's brilliant Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown,” “Blue Moon” is a reminder that creative genius is not something that a handful of people possess … but something more akin to a curse that possesses them.
Lorenz Hart was a lover of love, an appreciator of beauty, a chaser of make-believe. Unfortunately, the ability to find perfect words for these wonderful emotions doesn't translate into finding them in real life.
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