Director Noah Baumbach has a penchant for finding sympathy in difficult characters, from the caustic writer in Margot at the Wedding to the bitter couple in Marriage Story. In his latest film, Jay Kelly, Baumbach reverses his usual formula of mixing bitter with sweet to explore the existential crisis of an aging movie star. The challenge of evoking pity for a bored, wealthy celebrity is one the director clearly relishes.
Jay Kelly is Baumbach’s fourth consecutive Netflix release, and his collaboration with the streamer has seen his scope expand beyond the small-scale indie dramedies like The Squid and the Whale that launched his career. Following his ambitious adaptation of Don DeLillo’s White Noise, this new film charts a gentler, more familiar path in both plot and setting.
The casting of George Clooney as the titular star is particularly astute. In recent years, Clooney’s own career has seemed somewhat adrift, with performances in films like Ticket to Paradise and Wolfs feeling like echoes of his former stardom. This real-world context adds a meta-textual layer to his portrayal of Jay Kelly, a successful but creatively unfulfilled actor disconnected from those around him. The film’s plot is set in motion after the death of a mentor; a tense funeral reunion with an old friend (Billy Crudup) sends Jay into a tailspin, prompting him to impulsively flee to Italy rather than begin his next movie.
While the woes of a millionaire might struggle to garner audience sympathy, Baumbach sidesteps this by treating the character’s breakdown as more farcical than tragic. As Jay jets away from Hollywood, his ecosystem of handlers springs into action. His beleaguered manager, Ron (Adam Sandler), arranges for a lifetime-achievement award to await him in Europe, while his publicist, Liz (Laura Dern), runs damage control as videos of a hapless Jay stumbling through unfamiliar train stations go viral.
The screenplay, co-written with Emily Mortimer, is perfectly pitched. It masterfully contrasts Jay’s internal melancholy—over his career direction and distant daughter—with the slapstick comedy of his attempts to navigate normal life. Constantly swarmed by fans, Clooney expertly captures his character’s blend of embarrassment and joy at the attention, even as his team scrambles to maintain his carefully constructed reality.
The film draws comparisons to the more anarchic works of Federico Fellini, such as La Dolce Vita and 8 ½, which saw the Italian director grappling with his own fame. While Jay Kelly doesn’t reach those cinematic heights, its sillier, satirical approach to showbiz is compelling. The satire retains an acidic edge, particularly through characters like Ron, but Baumbach keeps the overall tone light, aware that audiences might resist a heavy-handed story about a celebrity’s suffering.
The story culminates at an international film festival, a grand circus orchestrated to celebrate a man who doubts he has accomplished anything meaningful. Here, Baumbach makes his biggest gamble, shifting from satire to unabashed sentimentality. The risk pays off, largely due to Clooney’s charismatic performance, which successfully sells his character’s heartache amidst the glamour. While this foray into sincerity is a noteworthy evolution for the director, one hopes he hasn’t permanently abandoned the caustic wit that defined his earlier work.
