Jay Kelly (2025) and Blue Moon (2025)

As a writer I have been given mountains of advice, solicited and unsolicited. Some of it useful, some to be discarded and some of it contradictory. (Here, I just followed the advice about the "rule of three").

An example of two pieces of contradictory advice: write what you know, and people don’t want to read about writers. In other words, I know about writers but that’s not the knowing I should write about.

Thankfully, plenty of authors have ignored that advice. Stephen King (heard of him?) wrote about being a best-selling author in Misery. Doris Lessing's, winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2007, most lauded work was The Golden Notebook, a book about an author struggling with state of the world, whilst dealing with writers’ block. And one of the publishing sensations of this decade, Yellow Face by R F Kuang, is a satire of the publishing industry.

And it strikes me that filmmakers definitely have no qualms when it come to making films about show business. Hollywood has no problem with the self-referential. Every decade has produced some version of a backstage or backstudio movie, often to critical acclaim. (Just look at how many times A Star is Born has been remade). 2025 is no different.

In the last week I have watched two films about show business, Jay Kelly and Blue Moon. Both have at their heart the idea that nothing matters more than the show – the movies, the theatre, the song, the writing. Everything can be sacrificed to the world of show business.

One is set in the modern day, concerned with the vagaries of fame, in our era of mass inequality but also unprecedented access to the lives of stars. The other is set in the 1940s, asking questions about the best way to support a talent with problems. They are “show business” films that make a case for the exceptionalism of “show business”. Show business the films suggest breeds its own kind of magic and toxicity. Both films share themes of ambition, power, success, fame, labour and exploitation. And they do this neat trick of making showbusiness look both loathsome and irresistible.

I loved them both. This is not to say that I thought they are great films. But they both dealt well with that tension that demands compassion for the protagonist and the awareness of their pettiness or combativeness.

Jay Kelly (2025) is a comedy drama about the relationship of a leading actor, Jay (played by George Clooney) and his manager, Ron (Adam Sandler). Jay is questioning his choices and ambitions. He is estranged from one daughter and his other daughter has headed to Europe when he had hoped for a last summer together. Add into the mix a recently deceased colleague and he falls prey to doubts. Jay takes this opportunity to drop out of his next film and follow his daughter. The backstage movie becomes a road trip.

Jay declares he is “always alone” as a silent assistant hands him a drink. And this running joke is the crux of the film. Success has not brought him company, family nor the ability to enjoy his privilege. This is a familiar story about the loneliness of the adored, with an entourage that enable his lack of self-awareness.

Blue Moon (2025) is a biographical comedy drama about real life Broadway lyricist Lorenz Hart (played by Ethan Hawke). It looks at the end of a career, the end of success. Oklahoma! (with an exclamation point) has opened on Broadway. It is undoubtedly going to be a success for Rogers (Andrew Scott), Hart’s previous composing partner and Hammerstein, Roger’s new lyricist. Hart’s response is to try and fake pleasure in his protégé’s success, through a haze of alcohol and infatuation for a young woman (Elizabeth played by Margaret Qualley).

This film also has many familiar tropes with themes of frustrated ambition, self-destructive creatives and the character of the barman who offers a listening ear and enables the flow of alcohol. Hart is well-drawn as a man blessed with attention to detail, love of language, verbosity, but thwarted by his addiction and his failure to understand his own motives and sexuality.

Both films rely on the idea that show business for those within it and for many outside of it, is the measure of success. Glamour, awards, being known and applauded drives characters forward until a breaking point.

But those of us not in the movies or theatres can still see ourselves reflected in those films. Either because we believe the idea that show business is the ultimate goal, or that our own workplaces are equally toxic.

The performances are superb. Clooney gives a gently-mocking self-referential turn as Jay, enabled by a harried Adam Sandler as Ron, who uses the same tone and words to placate Jay as he does his own child. Ethan Hawk as Hart is portrayed with a truly dreadful combover and forced perspective to make him appear short, but with a real sense of a man hanging on by his finger nails. Andrew Scott as Rogers holds the tension between genuine friendship and exasperation as he refuses to drink with his old partner, but still offers him work.

And then there is the writing. Both are carefully crafted. Jay Kelly is perhaps a little under-written, losing its way in the middle. Whereas Blue Moon feels a little theatrically over-written, with one set and long speeches.

Both are a testament to write what you love.

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