Blue Moon — Review
Source: Sony Pictures Classics
In October 2025, renowned filmmaker Richard Linklater presented us with two films about unconventional artists, both of which explore how style can intersect with substance. Nouvelle Vague, his film about the making of Jean-Luc Godard’s Breathless, is shot in the style of the French New Wave. Blue Moon, which tells the story of lyricist Lorenz Hart, is a chamber piece that unfolds with the intimacy of live theater. However, despite being released in the same month, the two works could not be more different. Nouvelle Vague embodies the energy and spirit of the French New Wave, paying tribute to the filmmakers who defined the movement. In contrast, Blue Moon is more restrained and introspective, a poignant character study that examines themes of art, success, fame, sexuality, legacy, and loneliness.
Set over the course of a single evening, Blue Moon follows Lorenz Hart (Ethan Hawke) as he attends the opening night of his former collaborator Richard Rodgers’ (Andrew Scott) new musical, Oklahoma!. It almost feels like Linklater’s Amadeus in its portrayal of a lesser-known artist overshadowed by a more celebrated colleague. Yet it still maintains the meditative tone, emotional honesty, and philosophical musings of his most personal work. It dwells in the spaces between words, finding poetry in a man coming to terms with the legacy he will leave behind.
Source: Sony Pictures Classics
On the evening of March 31, 1943, Hart arrives at Sardi’s restaurant before the post-show celebration for Oklahoma!’s opening night. There, the newly sober Hart confides in bartender Eddie (Bobby Cannavale) and pianist Morty (Jonah Lees). He is chatty and cynical, expressing contempt for the new musical and relentlessly mocking the exclamation point in the title, among other details. But one can’t help but discern the hurt he’s trying to conceal as he complains about the production his former creative partner penned with Oscar Hammerstein II. Linklater’s decision to focus on Hart rather than Rodgers or Hammerstein makes Blue Moon distinctive and compelling. It offers the rare perspective of a brilliant lyricist struggling not to be forgotten, forced to watch as his former partner receives praise and adoration for his collaboration with a new lyricist. The setting, confined to the restaurant, amplifies both the tension and intimacy. We’re trapped in one space just as Hart is trapped by his memories and mistakes.
Blue Moon boasts what may be Ethan Hawke’s best performance to date. His Hart is clever, charming, and arrogant on the surface, yet every line he delivers carries the subtle weight of regret and longing. His confident, joke-cracking demeanor is a facade, masking the sadness, nostalgia, envy, and remorse lurking beneath. It’s such a bittersweet story elevated by Hawke’s tender and empathetic portrayal. Despite Hart being a legendary figure, Linklater ensures that the audience can identify with his predicament, regardless of their field or experience. The film beautifully captures the complex emotions of wanting to celebrate someone’s success while quietly resenting the fact that they found it without you. It’s a profoundly empathetic portrait of an artist in emotional free fall, and Hawke’s nuanced performance transforms Hart’s self-destructive tendencies into something earnest, human, and resonant.
Margaret Qualley is mesmerizing as Elizabeth Weiland, a 20-year-old Harvard student who becomes the object of Hart’s infatuation. Her poise and warmth are captivating, commanding the audience’s attention. It’s easy to see why Hart is so enraptured by her. The film acknowledges Hart’s closeted sexuality without reducing him to it. His flirtation with a flower delivery boy and his tentative affection for Elizabeth both reflect the contradictions within him, as he searches for connection in any form he can find. Qualley and Hawke’s chemistry feels authentic yet ephemeral. Their scenes together ache with the tension between fantasy and reality, between the love Hart wants and the love he’s capable of receiving.
Source: Sony Pictures Classics
Andrew Scott’s screen time may be brief, but his performance as Rodgers leaves an indelible impression. The look in his eyes captures a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. This is a man who still cares for his former collaborator and is concerned about his well-being, while simultaneously relieved to no longer have his work hindered by Hart’s alcoholism and depression. He acknowledges Hart’s brilliance while also attempting to conceal his pity and suppress his frustrations.
The film’s technical elements are as thoughtfully composed as its performances. Cinematographer Shane F. Kelly crafts a warm visual palette that evokes both the glow of memory and the dim melancholy of regret. The camera often lingers in medium shots, giving the film the ambiance of a stage production. The editing is patient and unobtrusive as the story plays out in real time. Graham Reynolds’ jazz-inspired score is sometimes playful and sometimes melancholic, enhancing the mood without ever dictating it. Together, these elements create an atmosphere that feels both nostalgic and timeless.
The screenplay is witty and thought-provoking, filled with meaningful musings on art, life, and love. One line in particular stands out when Hart declares, “That’s the beautiful thing about art, isn’t it? It waits for you.” That single line reflects so much of Linklater’s filmography. The Before trilogy, in particular, consists of stories that often find people at the moment when they need them most. They’re also the kinds of films whose lessons evolve as viewers do. Someone who may not have understood Before Midnight upon its release might revisit it years later and find that it now hits painfully close to home. These are patient works that wait for you to find the meaning in them when you’re ready. The same can be said about Blue Moon, which will likely be regarded as one of the finest films in Linklater’s filmography as time goes on.
Blue Moon is a rousing reflection on regret, the passage of time, and the fragile bond between creativity and companionship. It builds slowly and quietly until you are suddenly overwhelmed by its emotion and heartache. It stands among Linklater’s most moving and mature works, and it is one of the most affecting films of the year. For viewers who are conflicted about it, I encourage revisiting the film later on down the line, as you may eventually discover meaning you missed the first time around. Because this is a work of art—and, after all, art waits for you.
Blue Moon received a limited theatrical release on October 17, 2025 before expanding to more theaters on October 24th.
