American superstar who only plays himself plays American superstar who only plays himself. Sounds like a real piece of cake, huh? Well, not according to late American poet Sylvia Plath, who famously wrote that “playing yourself is the most difficult role”. Her quote emblazons the black screen of this Hollywood production, starring a George Clooney very comfortable in this skin of Jay Kelly (a film actor with a predicament not too different to Clooney’s). There is little questions that Clooney was perfectly cast for this role. Either because he adores being a superstar, or because Plath was plain wrong. I’m inclined to believe the former.
Jay Kelly is a sixty-year-old superstar (roughly the same age as Clooney), with a seemingly happy family and a hoard of fans. He has to sign autographs wherever he goes. His followers are captivated by his heartwarming, likeable characters, as well as his irresistible looks. Aspiring filmmakers and industry pundits of all sorts – including Jay’s own father – want to borrow his name. That too is familiar territory to Clooney: according to IMDB, the actor has exec produced nearly 50 films in the past 25 years.
The problem is that Jay has to grapple with turbulent relationships at home and work. His two daughters Jessica (Riley Keough) and Daisy (Grace Edwards) are hardly enthusiastic about his impressive career. His childhood friend Timothy (Billy Crudup) is very jealous that Jay broke big and also stole his girlfriend, with his grudge eventually eventually triggering a physical altercation. It is Crudup that delivers the film’s funniest scene, as he recalls Method acting while reading a restaurant memory. Jay’s agent Ron (Adam Sandler) has to contend with his own family, while catering for the future of his client, who seems increasingly indifferent to his upcoming gigs.
Our adorable protagonist eventually travels to France and Italy. His objective is dual: he wishes to get closer to his backpacking daughter, while also receiving a lifetime achievement prize in Tuscany. His trip to Europe is riddled with some painfully familiar stereotypes. The visit to Paris consists of little more than a drive through the streets of the French capital (with the Eiffel Tower in the back) and a train journey where he casually mingles with the locals and throws an impromptu performance mid-carriage. This scene is genuinely cringey, with an abundance of stock characters representing multiple nationalities. It recalls the equally awful “Churchill in the underground” moment of Darkest Hour (Joe Wright, 2018). The jokes about Europe – Jay not knowing the capital of Croatia, aspiring actors dreaming of the “king” of Paris and Rome, or Italy being the only country capable of giving prizes to middle-aged white males – fall flat on their face. The unidimensional Italians are particularly tiresome, with the talented Alba Rohrwacher relegated to the role of a clumsy bus driver. Jay having a cathartic dance to Raffaella Carrà’s Rumore feels empty and lame
Jay Kelly is a movie full of cliches, and conflicts barely relatable to those outside showbiz. Jay’s vaguely turbulent relationship to his daughters, his old school school and agent are not enough to lift the narrative arch. The outcome is a boring, formulaic and predictable drama lasting 132 minutes, with half-baked moments of reconnection and a lukewarm resolution. The 56-year-old American director tries to hard to put a smile of the face of his viewers, who end up with their mouths wide open instead (for yawning purposes).
Noam Baumbach’s 13th feature film sets to to be a film about cinema, something it barely achieves. Jay asserts at the very beginning that his life is defined by cinema, an art which he describes as “pieces of time”. One would expect a movie populated with intertext and references to the history of film. All you get is Jay doing an impersonation of Clarke Gable and Robert de Niro in the train toilet, a few pictures of old Italian stars and a compilation of Clooney/Jay’s own work at the very end. Jay Kelly is is not a movie made for cinephiles. This is a film made for superfans of George Clooney, particularly those who don’t know the capital of Croatia and never heard of Raffaella Carrà. You might want to give it a miss in case you don’t belong to any of these demographics.
Jay Kelly premiered in the Official Competition of the 82nd Venice International Film Festival, when this piece was originally written. Also showing in Sa Sebastian, and at the BFI London Film Festival. In cinemas on Friday, November 14th.
