A mesmerising Ethan Hawke stars as lyricist Lorenz Hart as he talks his life and troubles to anyone who will listen on an eventful 1943 night in Richard Linklater’s incredible Blue Moon.
Richard Linklater and Ethan Hawke are a match made in film heaven. Since first collaborating in 1995’s Before Sunrise, they’ve made nine movies together, with the 2025 release of Blue Moon continuing the wonderful collaborations. Across their films, Linklater has brought the best out of Hawke, providing him with a variety of routes to explore his career and craft. (As a horror fan, I have to note Hawke’s various works with Scott Derrickson in Sinister and the Black Phone duology, notwithstanding).
Blue Moon is one of the best sleeper films of the year; an intricate and intimate look at a single night of a man, told nearly in real time, as he faces himself, his demons, his losses, and loves. The night is March 31st, 1943: the opening performance of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Oklahoma! The place is the famous Broadway meeting spot, Sardi’s. The man is Lorenz Hart, the writing partner of Richard Rodgers, until Oklahoma! He’s also the lyricist behind the titular tune, My Funny Valentine, and a host of other standards of his era. He’ll be dead in seven months, and half forgotten while Rodgers and Hammerstein become household names. He’s played with mesmerising perfection by Ethan Hawke.
Ethan Hawke is an actor people around my age (43) have grown up with. From his debut in Joe Dante’s Explorers in 1985, through realising the Gen X mantra in 1994’s Reality Bites, and his later career renaissance, Hawke has been an engaging and compelling actor. He’s always been a good actor, from Dead Poets Society, Gattaca, and more, but in the last few years, he’s become Great. I’ve often said he’s grown into his face. As he’s aged, he’s gained incredible lines, giving his face depth, and his characterisation has matched. If it were to be placed as a tipping point, I aim at the underseen Ti West western In A Valley of Violence (highly recommended). (Of course, this feels like I’m shoving away the masterful work in the Before trilogy, but he does feel more mature and set now).
No matter where Hawke made the shift, he did. And he’s been grand. Perhaps no grander than in Blue Moon. He was passed over for Oscar nominations for First Reformed, and if his work in Blue Moon is ignored as well, it’ll be a massive shame. 
Hawke is preternaturally engaging, essentially monologuing for 100 minutes. And I’m all for it. Blue Moon isn’t just Hawke talking, but he does the vast majority of it in his conversations with a sympathetic bartender, a GI-on-leave pianist, writer and essayist EB White, Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein II, and the object of his infatuation: Elizabeth Weiland. Hart is a man who will not shut up. Ever. He will let you know everything running through his brain. And he’ll tell us those thoughts with a verbose beauty, wit, and clever turns of phrase. I love a film that has the dialogue and story beats of a stage play, and Blue Moon is that in spades. Robert Kaplow’s masterful script has the cadence, the back and forth, the snap of a play. With a minimum of locations and many two or three-handed scenes, Blue Moon could open on Broadway and take home all the non-musical Tonys.
Hawke brings Hart to life with perfect vigour, endearing us to a man who would be infuriating to deal with in real life. (and to many of the other characters in the show) But it’s with the backing of the sharp, smart words Kaplow, who worked with Linklater before, providing the source book for the underseen Me and Orson Welles, gives him, based on the letters of Hart and Weiland. Hart was a real man, and did work with Rodgers until he was replaced by Hammerstein for being too drunk and unrelatable. Known as a Personality with a capital P, proudly bisexual in a time of hiding in the closet, loudly pushy, aware of his large faults. He’s brilliant, yet broken. Exceptionally intelligent, but his own worst enemy. The characterisation is on point, telling everything we need to know without awkward or clumsy exposition. It’s such a strong script. I marvel. While there’s no proof this night, this scenario or meeting of minds happened; it never rings false, too clever for its own good, or contrived. It’s a melding of could have, a tightening of a lifetime of character moments, revelations, and realisations, and approaches. What’s fascinating is no one is truly changed; no character starts and finishes this 100 minutes as a vastly different person, but it is affecting with promise and possibility. The characters exist in a perfect balance; they don’t need to arc to be alive.
For those working with Hart, whether they want to or not (he’s a lot, but people do enjoy the banter, to a degree), Linklater gathered a wonderful ensemble. Andrew Scott stands out; wonderfully understated as Richard Rodgers, calmly reassuring his insecure ex-partner, but finding comic facial and body movements of someone desperately wanting to leave a conversation. But it’s obvious how much he respects his friend, and the conversation, both tiptoeing around and directly heading into, of all their history, feelings, and insecurities of the future, is brilliant. I always love Bobby Cannavale, here giving an extra spark to Movie Bartender; the type quick with a drink, a quip, or a joke. Patrick Kennedy is a wonderful E.B. White, matching Hart wit for wit, line for line. I could watch just the pair talk for the whole time and be pleased.
If there’s any crack, it’s an uneven performance by Margaret Qualley. As in Drive-Away Dolls, she has real trouble working through an accent, causing an unevenness. She’s fine when fluttering in and out of the film, but a scene towards the end of just Hart and Weiland is a struggle.
Linklater not only draws an amazing performance from Hawke, and builds cadence and character for the slew of whoever have his ear and eye; the filmmaker keeps the film alive visually, giving energy to Sardi’s and its patrons. The script may be nearly a play, but Linkletter doesn’t set and forget to let the brilliant dialogue play; he moves his camera in and around, matching the mind tests and giving character depth in the shadows of the iconic location. He’s always been a filmmaker who can make films about conversations: Dazed & Confused, the Before Trilogy, and even experiments such as Waking Life are all based around long, complicated back-and-forths. Few filmmakers can work in tandem with brilliant dialogue and the intricacies of speech like Linklater.
Blue Moon provides the perfect sheet music for Ethan Hawk to score Lorenz Hart upon. Another top performance from one of the best actors today, thanks to a whipsmart script by Robert Kaplow and direction by the prolific and excellent Richard Linklater.