‘Blue Moon’: True to the Heart of Hart

Extremely rare in the fevered finance, risky return world of Hollywood are films that capture the spirit of once forgotten artists, directors or composers. They tend to be stagnant, as in Kirk Douglas’ portrayal of Vincent Van Gogh in Lust for Life. Or self-reflective; think about My Dinner with André (about director André Gregory) or All That Jazz (a semi-biographical treatment of Bob Fosse’s life that was, in fact, directed by Fosse). Of course, there are more memorable films written about popular composers; Amadeus about Mozart, Rhapsody in Blue about George Gershwin, De-Lovely about Cole Porter or even recent pics about Elvis, Dylan or Springsteen. But Blue Moon is a story about a lyricist. You know, the guy who is too often tempted to rhyme “Spring” with “Fling,” or “June” with “Moon.”

Lorenz Hart, along with Richard Rodgers, wrote dozens of the Great American Songbook titles like “My Funny Valentine,” “The Lady Is A Tramp,” “I Wish I Were in Love Again,” “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered,” “The Most Beautiful Girl in the World,” and, of course, “Blue Moon”. He died in 1943, officially of pneumonia, but having barely survived another long night of drinking from which he usually recovered, he was found in a Manhattan gutter in a rainstorm and taken to a hospital. An alcoholic for many years, he had been well aware of his problem.

In fact, in 1943, when Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II opened their first collaborative smash hit, Oklahoma!, on Broadway, Lorenz Hart was at the famous restaurant, Sardi’s, to congratulate the team. (Or so the film asserts.) Hart tried his best to refrain from drinking that historic night. And, that, more or less, is where Blue Moon, directed by Richard Linklater, and starring Ethan Hawke as Lorenz Hart, begins. But what an odd and ominous night it is! 

Essentially a character study about a principal American songwriter few remember, Ethan Hawke’s portrayal of the diminutive lyricist is curious in so many ways. Hawke is a man five feet, 10 inches tall, but Hart was said to be “maybe” five feet. The story behind Blue Moon was written by Robert Kaplow, renowned for his Me and Orson Welles script, (which featured Zac Ephron in 2009). Director Linklater and longtime friend and collaborator Hawke first read Kaplow’s script for Blue Moon almost twenty years ago, but waited until Hawke showed some natural signs of aging before proceeding with the filming. And, so, the otherwise dashing Ethan Hawke appears in every scene as a short man, weathered by alcoholism, brow furrowed and head shaven to affect the oily comb-over Hart was known to sport when seen drinking in late-night dives or running from the theater to quench his thirst. The 48-year-old lyricist lived with his mother, was closeted sexually, never married, and, yet, as this story unfolds, is in love with a young poet, Elizabeth Weiland, twenty years his junior and whose beauty infatuates him. With two brief exceptions, the entire film takes place at Sardi’s where, arriving early, Hart, unrepentant and sour, has already dismissed the new show as plebeian pablum for white tourists. (In another tirade, he calls the new musical Oklahomo!) Indeed, much of the film focuses on Hart’s witty, but aggressive diatribes on the shortfalls of American culture—and musical theatre, in particular—but Hart offers no comparisons to European faire. He pleads with Rodgers to collaborate again in a new musical about Marco Polo. Rodgers actually wants to rework their earlier, 1927 collaboration of A Connecticut Yankee. History bares out what really came next.

And, although it’s puzzling as to what possessed Hollywood financiers to produce this mostly one-set biopic, the film is wonderfully brilliant in its subtleties. We meet longtime Sardi’s bartender Eddie, played loudly by Bobby Cannavale, we are introduced to the legendary director George Roy Hill (David Rawle), we get an early scoop on E.B. White’s (Patrick Kennedy) struggles in writing a children’s book, we admire—but want to distrust—Richard Rodgers (Andrew Scott), and we even get a quick bow from a very young theatre nerd—some kid who Oscar Hammerstein II (Simon Delaney) famously fostered—by the name of Stephen Sondheim (Cillian Sullivan.)

Most significantly, we get to meet, know, love and adore a character only Lorenz Hart seems to have known, Elizabeth Weiland. Played by Margaret Qualley, she is the true star of Blue Moon. Playing the daughter of a cast member from Oklahoma!, as well as an aspiring set designer, poet, actress and singer, Qualley’s portrayal of this honestly beautiful ingénue is the glue that bonds an audience to any film. No doubt, Ethan Hawke will earn his nomination for the 2025 Best Actor Oscar, but we should hope that Qualley gets the requisite recognition she truly deserves. As rare as this film might be, it’s just as precious to discover an actress who delivers her part with such comfort and honesty. Proving my own apparent infatuation, Qualley is the daughter of Andie MacDowell and, as a former student of ballet, played Ann Reinking in Fosse/Verdon. She also appeared recently in 2024’s The Substance with Demi Moore.

As the saying goes, once in a blue moon a film will come along for which the director, writer, and cast have poured their souls. The reason may not be obvious. Yet, however fleeting the opportunity may be to experience such dedication of art, now—before theaters are jammed with wicked, screaming girls—is the time to enjoy a true Blue Moon.

C. Prentiss Orr is a Pittsburgh-based writer who covers film, live theater, and other topics for Entertainment Central. He is the author of the books The Surveyor and the Silversmith and Pittsburgh Born, Pittsburgh Bred.

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