If you think the name Jay Kelly sounds a lot like George Clooney, wait till you see the rest of the film.
JAY KELLY is the latest drama from filmmaker Noah Baumbach, written with Emily Mortimer, and concerns a Hollywood superstar having a life crisis in his 60s as he realizes that his beloved place in Hollywood is not matched by any kind of real success with family or friends. Clooney plays the iconic, yet insecure Kelly, and the film has decided to lean heavily into most of the similarities between actor and role rather than shy away from them. Kelly is, in large part, a thinly-veiled Clooney and the film constantly reminds you of that by using clips, headshots, and publicity photos of Clooney from his career, not made-up ones for Kelly. And if you know Clooney’s career and persona even casually, those blurred lines may mar the story for you. A lot of the film works as it strives to paint a sad and moving story about the cost of fame, but too often it gets in its own way by having Clooney be so much like Kelly, and vice versa.
Surely, Clooney isn’t a vainglorious, man-child like Kelly, the kind of egotist who can be equally charming and off-putting, but it gives one pause watching Kelly look, talk, dress and echo so much of Clooney. The multiple-Oscar-winning actor has played such charmers, fast talkers, and even con men before in the likes of OCEAN’S ELEVEN, OUT OF SIGHT and UP IN THE AIR, but none of those roles asked Clooney to play a superstar actor who has such faults on screen. It might be one of the reasons that Netflix has put out a movie poster showing Clooney and costar Adam Sandler sharing space. Sandler plays Kelly’s long-suffering manager Ron Sukenich here and having him presented so equally in the poster probably helps the film feel more fictional and less like a pseudo-documentary. It doesn’t hurt either that Sandler is a big star too and his character is demonstrably more likable and sympathetic than Jay Kelly.
Ron’s relationship with Kelly is a complex one; they’re close but both men are aware that Sukenich takes 15% of everything Kelly makes. (That 15% even becomes a running gag in the story, one of the few parts about it that is laugh-out-loud funny.) Sukenich’s stakes feel greater here too as he’s tasked with getting Kelly to his next big Hollywood production on time and thus avoid, being sued for blowing off contract obligations, timetables, and budgets, etc. You’d think that Kelly would be more responsible, being painted as a major star for over 30 years, but instead, the bad dad wants to bond with his dismissive teen daughter Daisy (Grace Edwards) who decides to travel through Europe with friends rather than spend a couple of weeks at home with her father. Thus, Kelly throws the production into turmoil by spontaneously choosing to traipse all over Europe shadowing Daisy, rather than do what Sukenich pleads him to do to keep everything on schedule. Soon, Sukenich, and all those in Kelly’s team are chasing after him as he spontaneously charters a plane, boards a train, and rents various SUVs to chase after Daisy.
Daisy wants no part of his bonding attempts, and soon Kelly realizes that he’s alienated her in similar fashion as his older daughter Jessica (Riley Keough). Baumbach showcases that strained relationship through some well-placed flashbacks focusing on how shitty a father Kelly was to her in various instances. Even his entourage starts to feel alienated by Kelly’s selfishness and they start dropping out of his orbit as well. The film becomes the chronicle of an egotist who with each passing minute is taken down another peg by the realization of all the damage he causes. It’s a tough and telling take on stardom and illusion, not necessarily surprising, but well-told and blunt in its evisceration of the vanity of superstars in show biz.
All this might have played even better if Baumbach, et al. had given Clooney a beard or mustache to make him look a bit less like himself, or at least made Kelly’s oeuvre something different than that of Clooney. It’s almost too much Clooney and not enough Kelly, and despite Clooney’s willingness to play the many negative aspects of Kelly so boldly, it hurts that every fiber of the way Kelly walks, talks, and looks, is that of Clooney. It’s all so meta, it almost crumbles under its own high concept. Bob Fosse may have made a thinly disguised biography of his own life in 1979 with ALL THAT JAZZ, but at least he cast a different actor (Roy Scheider) to play him onscreen.
What saves it is some knowing banter, beautiful location shooting throughout Europe, and the vivid acting of everyone in featured roles, including Billy Crudup in a crucial role as a former classmate of Kelly’s from acting school who has a big fight with him after meeting at Chez Jay. (That’s a famed Santa Monica watering hole, but it also feels meta as it is part of the title character’s name.) Stacy Keach plays Kelly’s dad to great, cantankerous effect, Laura Dern is perfectly pissed as Jay’s harried publicist, and the likes of Patrick Wilson, Jim Broadbent, Greta Gerwig, and Isla Fisher lend solid support throughout as well. Sandler creates a smart, quietly funny character that you ache for, and he again proves what a terrific and varied actor he can be given the opportunity.
Clooney is not afforded that here and he simply cannot lose himself in a role designed so similarly. He’s an accomplished actor, and like Cary Grant, Robert Redford, and Burt Reynolds before him, he rarely plays outside of his consistent screen persona. Still, it’s almost too weird here as with every passing moment the film feels more and more “Clooney-esque” when it should be far more “Kelly-esque.” Thus, I was constantly being taken out of the picture and I’m sorry to say that I never was able to totally get back in.
