We often build walls around those who achieve extraordinary success, assuming their lives are devoid of the vulnerabilities that plague the rest of us. Yet, sometimes, the most celebrated individuals harbor hidden sorrows that resonate deeply, challenging our preconceived notions.
Noah Baumbach’s latest film masterfully explores this paradox, centering on Jay Kelly, a celebrated actor navigating a quiet crisis. George Clooney delivers a remarkably sensitive performance as Jay, a man surrounded by an entourage yet haunted by a profound sense of loneliness and regret. The story unfolds as Jay grapples with the loss of the director who launched his career, forcing him to confront his past and question his present.
This isn’t simply a story about a famous face; it’s a poignant reflection on the fragility of greatness. Baumbach subtly weaves in the story of Peter Schneider, a director mirroring the late Peter Bogdanovich, a mentor to the filmmaker himself. Schneider, like Bogdanovich, experienced a fall from critical acclaim, battling financial hardship and professional setbacks, yet retaining an enduring spirit.
Baumbach doesn’t shy away from the personal connection, imbuing Schneider with details that echo Bogdanovich’s life – from his fondness for specific neckwear to his philosophical musings on filmmaking. He portrays a man who, despite outward success, felt the sting of fading relevance and the constant pressure to create. This intimate portrayal elevates the film beyond a typical Hollywood drama.
The film’s emotional core lies in the delicate portrayal of a shifting relationship – between the still-vibrant Jay and the now-deceased Schneider. Baumbach tenderly illustrates how quickly even the most accomplished individuals can find themselves in positions of need, reminding us of their inherent humanity. He demonstrates that even those who seem to have it all are worthy of compassion.
Jay’s grief triggers a spontaneous journey, first to Paris to reconnect with his estranged daughter, and then to Tuscany for a lifetime achievement award. These travels aren’t glamorous escapes, but rather a series of encounters that strip away the artifice of his celebrity. He’s forced to confront uncomfortable truths about his life and his relationships.
Throughout his journey, Jay is accompanied by his pragmatic manager, Ron, played with surprising depth by Adam Sandler, and his perpetually stressed publicist, Liz, portrayed by Laura Dern. Their presence highlights the absurdity of fame, as Jay navigates the expectations and demands that come with his status. Even amidst the chaos, his celebrity proves stubbornly resilient.
Baumbach masterfully uses flashbacks to reveal pivotal moments in Jay’s past, including a formative audition with Schneider and a revealing therapy session with his daughter. These memories aren’t merely exposition; they’re carefully woven into the narrative, adding layers of complexity to Jay’s character and illuminating the roots of his current struggles.
The film doesn’t offer easy answers or tidy resolutions. Instead, it presents a raw and honest depiction of a man grappling with his mortality and the emptiness that can accompany a life lived in the spotlight. It’s a film about the search for meaning, the complexities of family, and the enduring power of human connection.
Ultimately, the film circles back to the importance of paternal figures, both the artistic mentor, Schneider, and Jay’s own father, a pragmatic “working stiff.” Their contrasting perspectives force Jay to confront his own values and reassess his priorities. He begins to understand that true fulfillment lies not in accolades, but in genuine relationships.
The film culminates in a poignant tribute where Jay is bombarded with clips from his past work. The question lingers: is he overwhelmed by the emptiness of a life lived on screen, or is he finally accepting it as the best he can achieve? Baumbach doesn’t provide a definitive answer, leaving the audience to contemplate the complexities of fame and the search for authenticity.
Through a warm remembrance of Bogdanovich and a remarkably grounded performance by Clooney, Baumbach evokes genuine emotion for individuals who often appear larger than life. He invites us to shed our cynicism and embrace the vulnerability of those who, despite their success, are ultimately just as human as the rest of us. It’s a film that encourages us to empathize, to connect, and to perhaps, even shed a tear for the failed director and the hopeful movie star.
