George Clooney Isn’t the Best Part of Jay Kelly
George Clooney is a movie star. What I mean is, Jay Kelly is a movie star. That is to say, George Clooney (notable movie star) plays Jay Kelly (notable [fictional] movie star). He’s decades into his career now—Jay Kelly, that is—and he’s starting to feel the pains of choices not made. From first to last, Jay Kelly is created by people with intimate knowledge of Hollywood and the distorted life it requires, and what the film is here to ask is: Maybe movie stars have regrets, too?
Director Noah Baumbach (Marriage Story, Frances Ha, The Squid and the Whale) is no stranger to conflicted, self-defeating protagonists, but his and Emily Mortimer’s script provides the opportunity to shift the setting into the realm of fame. Jay’s mentors are beginning to pass away, his children are distancing themselves from him, and his friends are beginning to realize that they’re actually just his employees, all of which leaves Jay in a late-mid-life crisis. But how does a man who spent so many years pretending suddenly become authentic? “All my memories are movies,” he says, though it’s not quite clear whether it’s a lament or just wistfulness.
In a last-ditch effort to make the most of his relationship with his younger daughter (Grace Edwards), Jay brashly jets away to Europe, forcing his assistants to arrange for a retrospective award at an Italian festival. Those assistants, Ron (Adam Sandler) and Liz (Laura Dern), are have grown accustomed to making sacrifices for Jay’s ego, but this time their patience is wearing thin as they confront some of their own regrets.
Baumbach’s movies are often filled with sardonic, at times viciously blunt, dialogue, but he pulls far too many punches here. The retrospections of an entertainer and artist can be fertile narrative ground, but Jay Kelly never squeezes enough juice out of its star. Fame changes one’s experience of time. It also vacuates the self. And Clooney knows how to use, embody, and peel away that fame. This isn’t Clooney’s best turn as an actor a bit lost in the real world (that’d be Baird Whitlock in Hail, Caesar!), but he does bring a real emotional connection to the character. Jay is so openly wounded, and Clooney brings a deft hand to Jay’s attempts to brush past his pain.
The highlights, though, are found in the supporting performances. Laura Dern is always great, and she’s great here. But it’s actually Adam Sandler who gives the most affecting, delicate, and intricate performance as Ron. Ron’s realizing that his relationship to Jay might not be what he thought it was; he’s also realizing that his relationship with Liz could have been something entirely different. He balances the dreams, the hurt, and the resolve so precisely, but it makes you wish this movie were about him and Liz, instead of Jay.
Being yourself is a “hell of a responsibility,” but Jay Kelly never quite comes to grips with its character’s identity. There’s craft and enough talented acting to carry you along, but it can’t quite overcome the sense that there should be more here.
