Today is Sunday, October 26, 2025. It’s late here, owing to my being out with Elliot and his first girlfriend “Deborah” in Cobble Hill and us viewing a career-defining role for Ethan Hawke as fabled lyricist Lorenz “Larry” Hart in Richard Linklater-directed Blue Moon at the Cobble Hill Cinema. I thoroughly enjoyed this intimate, singular setting production of a night in the life of this famous American artist on the downslide in the early 1940s.

The film takes place in Sardi’s, a famous Manhattan bar located in the heart of Manhattan, where Hart arrives early before a celebratory party for Hart’s writing partner, Richard Rodgers (Andrew Scott). For Rodgers, it’s the opening night for his latest production, Oklahoma! written with composer Oscar Hammerstein II (Simon Delaney). Hart tries to show how happy he is, but in realizing that the show is better than anything he wrote with Rodgers, he is quietly devastated.

Throughout the static interior of Sardi’s, Hawke as Hart fires off his lines at a breakneck pace as if words might protect him from his insecurities. I opined that the special effects guy made Hawke somewhat smaller and I was right. From reliable sources, Hart stood only at 4′ 10″ and, in this film, Hart’s diminutive size is matched by a fiery, verbose personality. Caustic, sarcastic, and trying to mask his sadness, we can see that Hart is facing the end of his run as collaborator with Rodgers for a quarter of a century. This is due to his erratic working style and his incessant drinking.

In the first half of the film, nearly all of Hart’s conversations are with Eddie (Bobby Cannavale), the trusted bartender, and Morty (Jonah Lees), a piano player hoping to be discovered by Rodgers later on. At one point, Hart reveals to Eddie his infatuation with Elizabeth Weiland (Margaret Qualley), a 20-year-old ingenue whose admiration of Hart as a songwriter extraordinaire has falsely led the lyricist to believe there’s a sexual spark between them, even though it was generally known that Hart was a homosexual. At another point, Hart declares he can appreciate both sexes for their beauty.

When Scott as Rodgers arrives, the tone shifts considerably and his performance brings a quiet dignity that counteracts Hart’s volatile nature. You can sense the palpable tension between them as they reminisce about their long-term professional relationship, but old wounds are recalled in terms of Hart’s erratic nature and why Rodgers was forced to collaborate with a more steadfast and reliable writer like Hammerstein.

Cannavale shines as Hart’s confidante and Qualley shines luminously in the film as a 20-year-old starlet who wants to break into the business as a costume designer who eventually abandons Hart to go with Rodgers to his opening-night party. Hawke conveys Hart’s devastation through his downcast eyes after she leaves and you feel for him, as his personal and professional worlds appear to be skidding toward destruction. Which does happen; as it’s revealed at the end that Hart died at an early age, 48, in the same year, 1943.

I will admit that this film will not appeal to many filmgoers who hunger for more action, more special effects, and less dialogue in their films. Overall, the look of the film is that of a staged play since there is only one predominant setting – the bar. However, Hawke’s performance anchors the entire film, with everyone around him performing as “extras” in a play. But look at the many songs that Hart wrote: “Blue Moon;” “The Lady Is a Tramp;” “Manhattan;” “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered;” and “My Funny Valentine;” among many, many more, and it’s just quite amazing. The Rodgers and Hart songs are standard repertoire for singers and jazz instrumentalists. That is why seeing this film offers an especially intimate portrayal of this tortured genius. And why I recommend it highly to anyone who won’t fidget without seeing a car crash or see body parts blow apart onscreen every ten minutes or so.

Well, it’s another week, folks, so have a great one.

And so it went!