Sympathy for a Handsome Devil
Noah Baumbach’s latest film, *Jay Kelly*, presents a unique exploration of midlife discontent through the lens of a seemingly privileged character—a bored, aging movie star portrayed by George Clooney. Unlike Baumbach’s previous works, which often blend bitterness with moments of sweetness, *Jay Kelly* flips this formula, focusing more on the emotional struggles of its protagonist. As Jay grapples with feelings of dissatisfaction and disconnect, the film challenges viewers to find sympathy for a character who has seemingly “lived life the wrong way.” The film marks Baumbach’s fourth collaboration with Netflix, expanding his narrative scope beyond the indie dramedies that initially defined his career, such as *Kicking and Screaming* and *The Squid and the Whale*.
Clooney’s portrayal of Jay Kelly is particularly poignant, reflecting a star who, much like his character, has faced a series of lackluster performances in recent years. The narrative kicks off at a funeral for an old mentor, where Jay’s encounter with a former friend spirals into an emotional crisis, prompting him to impulsively escape to Italy instead of fulfilling his professional obligations. The film cleverly juxtaposes Jay’s existential musings with comedic scenarios as he navigates the absurdities of fame in a foreign land. His bumbling misadventures, aided by a frantic team of assistants, provide a farcical backdrop to his internal turmoil. The screenplay, co-written by Baumbach and Emily Mortimer, strikes a balance between humor and melancholy, showcasing Jay’s awkward interactions with fans and the pressures of maintaining his celebrity status.
As the story unfolds, Baumbach channels elements reminiscent of Federico Fellini’s more anarchic films, such as *La Dolce Vita* and *8 ½*, exploring themes of artistic success and personal fulfillment. While *Jay Kelly* does not reach the heights of Fellini’s masterpieces, it offers a satirical yet tender look at the entertainment industry. The film culminates in an international film festival, where Jay must confront his own legacy amidst the glitz and glamour. Baumbach’s willingness to delve into sentimentality in the film’s final moments poses a notable risk, but Clooney’s charisma makes it a gamble worth taking. Ultimately, *Jay Kelly* serves as both a reflection on the complexities of fame and a reminder of the human desire for connection and meaning, even in the most extravagant of circumstances.
Noah Baumbach loves to find sympathy in unsympathetic subjects—the awkward title character of
Greenberg
, the caustic writer played by Nicole Kidman in
Margot at the Wedding
, the bitter divorced couple of
Marriage Story
. But he’s usually done it by mixing in plenty of bitter with just a touch of sweet. For his new movie,
Jay Kelly
, that formula is reversed in service of another character who might struggle to earn the viewer’s pity: a bored, aging movie star worried that he’s lived life the wrong way. It’s hard to know why anyone should feel a pang of understanding for Jay Kelly (played by George Clooney), but Baumbach relishes the challenge.
Jay Kelly
is Baumbach’s fourth movie in a row that will be released to Netflix, with a short theatrical release. In his collaboration with the streaming studio, his scope has widened far beyond the small-scale indie dramedies that began his career—acerbic triumphs such as
Kicking and Screaming
,
The Squid and the Whale
, and
Mr. Jealousy
. His last work was a fascinating, flawed, staggeringly ambitious adaptation of Don DeLillo’s
White Noise
; with
Jay Kelly
, he’s charting a gentler, more familiar path, in terms of plot and setting.
Another director might have had a hard time getting audiences to care about the prosaic concerns of this beloved millionaire, but Baumbach, in casting Clooney, chose a star who himself has seemed
a little lost at sea
. After spending years mostly directing his own projects, usually to middling reviews, Clooney has recently turned in a couple of performances that felt like pale facsimiles of former glories, in the rom-com
Ticket to Paradise
and the action-thriller
Wolfs
. Both whiffs only further reminded me what a top-tier star Clooney
used
to be, and these staid recent efforts help meta-textually burnish
Jay Kelly
’s initial setup. The film is about an actor, still well known and ostensibly successful, who feels dissatisfied with his creative choices and disconnected from the people around him. When an old mentor dies, at the funeral Jay runs into Timothy (Billy Crudup), a friend from his early days as an actor. Their reminiscing quickly turns sour, sending Jay into an emotional tailspin, and he impulsively flies to Italy rather than make his next movie.
[
Read: A couples therapist analyzes the marriage in Marriage Story
]
I won’t even bother to play the world’s tiniest violin for Jay; after all, who among us hasn’t wanted to jaunt to Tuscany rather than face their contractual obligations? And Jay gets to have a particularly luxe midlife crisis, fueled by the resources of a rich movie star. But Baumbach smartly renders the character’s breakdown as more farcical than tragic. As Jay jets away from Hollywood, an ecosystem of assistants and managers fires into action. His bedraggled manager, Ron (Adam Sandler), arranges for a lifetime-achievement award to await him in Europe; his publicist Liz (Laura Dern) runs interference on the viral videos that start to leak out of a hapless Jay stumbling around train cars, looking confused in the unfamiliar environment.
The gag of Baumbach’s screenplay, co-written with the actor and writer Emily Mortimer, is perfectly pitched. Jay is feeling melancholy about the prosaic direction of his career, and the fact that his younger daughter went abroad with her school friends rather than hang out with him in Hollywood. But externally, what manifests is a lot of stumbling, silly comedy, as Jay hilariously fails to navigate regular life. If he walks through a town anywhere in the world, people notice him and swarm, like he’s some Armani-clad messiah. Clooney nails the character’s mix of embarrassment and joy at these interactions, while the team around him hurriedly tries to maintain his malfunctioning reality-distortion field.
The closest comparison to
Jay Kelly
I could think of is the more anarchic films of Federico Fellini, such as
La Dolce Vita
and
8 ½
, where the Italian director started to wrestle with his own success.
Jay Kelly
isn’t nearly as good as those, but it’s interesting to see Baumbach take this sillier approach (down to the Tuscan setting) for a showbiz satire. Yes, some of the side characters have an acidic touch, particularly the wonderfully aggrieved Ron, who has chosen to ignore his family to tend to Jay’s nervous breakdown. But Baumbach never lets the material get particularly heavy, perhaps aware that the audience won’t buy that someone as famous as Jay could really experience suffering.
Instead, it all builds to the biggest circus of all: an international film festival designed to celebrate a man who isn’t sure if he’s accomplished anything meaningful besides starring in a bunch of blockbusters. The final notes of
Jay Kelly
are played for pure sympathy, and it’s Baumbach’s biggest storytelling gamble. Can his viewer tolerate one big gulp of pure sentimentality after two-plus hours that have largely skirted that tone? For me, yes—Clooney’s a strong-enough star to sell Jay’s achy heart, even amid the glitz and glamour. Baumbach’s odyssey into more treacly territory is an attention-worthy gambit, though one hopes he doesn’t lock the grouchiness away forever.
