Jay Kelly: A Review - George Clooney as George Clooney in an Underwhelming George Clooney Film

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT/SEE IT. If you love the George Clooney Experience, you’ll find this harmless and rather hapless film to be a pleasant experience…if Clooney is not your cup of tea, this lukewarm gruel will go down like bad milk.

Jay Kelly, starring George Clooney and Adam Sandler, is a dramedy that tells the story of a somewhat fictional actor - considered the last of the great Hollywood movie stars, coming to grips with his life and career.

The film, written by Noah Baumbach and Emily Mortimer and directed by Baumbach, premiered on Netflix on December 5th.

Jay Kelly is essentially A Christmas Carol for the Hollywood sect, as it’s the tale of a Hollywood star having an existential crisis being visited by the ghosts of his Hollywood past and present…and maybe future.

The film masquerades as a search for profundity but is actually a cloying and treacly exercise in mawkishness wrapped in self-pitying movie star charm and insider winks.

Jay Kelly is no doubt designed to elicit knowing nods and hopefully some nominations from the movie industry insiders it dramatizes and humanizes – a wise strategic maneuver by both Baumbach and Clooney as the narcissism capitol of the world - Hollywood loves, nothing more than movies about itself. The problem though is that I don’t think Jay Kelly is going to win any Oscars despite its narrative pandering, mostly because it just isn’t particularly good.

The film is sort of a poor man’s attempt at Robert Altman. It would be too generous to call it Altman-esque, or even Altman-lite…but let’s just say it has some stylistic flourishes – in the party and group scenes for instance, that somewhat resemble the work of Robert Altman.

The structure of Jay Kelly, which features a series of flashbacks, is less than compelling. Watching Clooney watch an actor play a younger version of himself is amateurish at best, and ridiculous at worst.

The film is also deeply marinated in a saccharine sentimentality that irritates. Jay Kelly is, besides being a movie star, a bad father, bad friend and overall bad person…so this story is reduced to “poor little rich boy feels bad”.

The same is true of Adam Sandler’s character – Ron, who is Jay’s manager and he apparently really “loves” him…but this love never seems earned or genuine despite it being told to the audience over and over that it is.

In this way the snake pit that is Hollywood is glossed over in favor of a sort of silly and goofy take on the truly vile villains who inhabit the place – who actually see human beings as nothing more than pieces of meat to exploit for personal profit, rather than as “members of the family”.

George Clooney has at times been called the last movie star – a label I would vociferously argue against (that title might go to Leonardo DiCaprio – but maybe not even him), so his playing essentially a version of himself – or at least a version of his public self, is a mildly intriguing premise.

Clooney’s career, or more particularly, his movie stardom, has always been a mystery to me. I understand that he is a good-looking and charming guy, but he isn’t that good-looking or that charming to have become the massive movie star he did.

The truth is that Clooney is not a very good actor (and don’t get me started on Clooney as director - YIKES!). The proof of this is easily discovered if you watch the plethora of movies he’s made – most of which are pretty sub-par too. Instead of listing the cavalcade of films he’s made that stink, I’ll just list the ones worth seeing – a much more manageable list. Three Kings, Michael Clayton, The American…that’s it, that’s the list.

That Clooney, a talent-deficient, pseudo-nepo baby (his aunt is Rosemary Clooney), could go from being a two-bit tv actor to a movie star seemingly overnight speaks to something broken in the system…and Clooney’s massive failing over the last decade or more a symptom of the disease of sub-mediocrity ravaging Hollywood.

Clooney’s lone super power appears to be his unrelenting ambition – how American of him. In some ways he is, and he will shudder at this comparison – the Hollywood version of Donald Trump…all hat and no cattle so to speak.

Perusing Clooney’s filmography – which shows that over the last dozen years he hasn’t made a single relevant film, reveals that whether his star status was ever earned or not – it is certainly now hemorrhaging…and Jay Kelly is a last-ditch effort to stop the bleeding.

In some ways Jay Kelly succeeds in being a tourniquet, a short-term fix to temporarily stop the bleeding. Clooney, who always seems to play himself in films, once again plays himself – an aging movie star adored for being a charming fellow who plays himself…sort of like a mirror reflected into a mirror reflected into a mirror and on and on. Admittedly…that is very clever.

Clooney does Clooney things throughout…he smirks and tilts his head and does a bunch of silly running (a cloying Clooney signature). But here’s the thing about Clooney’s “charming” performance…it is demonstrably better than the movie surrounding him.

Baumbach struggles to find a coherent tone and a coherent narrative throughout, but there are a bevy of sequences which are baffling in both their creation and execution. For example, there’s a train sequence that is so awful it made my teeth hurt. There’s also a bizarre side story regarding an old classmate that could have been something but was turned into absolutely nothing. The same is true of a long lost love interest.

And then there is Adam Sandler. Sandler plays Jay’s manager Ron. Ron is the picture of patience and thoughtfulness. He has a wife and kids at home that he doesn’t spend enough time with because he is always doing stuff for Jay Kelly. He even neglects his other clients because he has to handle Jay Kelly.

Sandler is, at best, grating in the role. But to be fair, I find Adam Sandler grating every time I see him. Sandler, like Clooney, is a star whose success I find to be a complete and utter mystery. He isn’t funny, he isn’t interesting, he isn’t talented and he isn’t original. He is a waste of space, so much so that if it were up to me - he’d be melted down and we’d start over from scratch.

Sandler does his usual schmaltzy shtick of soft talking and sad eyes as Ron, and it hits with about as much dramatic power as a week-old dog turd baking by the side of the road.

As off-putting as Sandler is, the real problem with Jay Kelly is Noah Baumbach. Baumbach has made some interesting films in his time – and by some, I mean two…The Squid and the Whale and While We’re Young.

Baumbach isn’t a visual stylist, he’s more of a wordsmith…but the problem is he’s not that good of a writer. His stories are more often than not narratively trite and reek of an arthouse desperation that feels palpably mainstream in its execution. In other words, Baumbach is an arthouse poseur, who makes third-rate, middlebrow muck for the masses while pretending to be an cool-kid auteur.

Jay Kelly is not the worst film ever made. It has a certain charm about it, which is probably the same undefinable charm that has kept George Clooney on the A-list in Hollywood for the last twenty-five years or so.

Some people will love Jay Kelly as it is lukewarm pablum that can be digested with ease and little effort. I am not one of those people.

That said, if you are looking to spend a breezy two-hours and twelve minutes with George Clooney being George Clooney pretending to have an existential crisis…then I genuinely think you’ll enjoy Jay Kelly and encourage you to check it out as it is harmless enough.

As for me…if I ever get the urge to watch George Clooney…I’ll rewatch The American or Michael Clayton…thank you very much.

©2025

Amsterdam: A Review – Fascists, Coups and Assassinations...Oh My!

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1/2 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. Awful. Awful. Awful. Just an amateurish, dreadful, no-good piece of moviemaking. Go read Smedley Butler’s “War is a Racket” instead.

Amsterdam, written and directed by five-time Oscar nominee David O. Russell and starring Christian Bale, Margot Robbie and John David Washington, hit theatres with a resounding thud back in October, and is now streaming on HBO Max…and I just had the great displeasure of watching it.

The film, which describes itself as a “period comedy thriller” but feels more like a comedy thriller on its period, follows the travails of three old friends who met in World War I, Burt Berendsen (Christian Bale), Valeria Bandenberg (Margot Robbie) and Harold Woodman (John David Washington), as they uncover a coup plot in America in the 1930’s and try to thwart it.

The coup plot in the film is based on the real-life 1933 Business Plot, where American oligarchs, like JP Morgan, Irenee DuPont, Prescott Bush – banker and future father and grandfather to two U.S. presidents, Robert Singer Clark – heir to the Singer Corporation fortune, and banker Robert Clark among many others, plotted to overthrow President Roosevelt and install a fascist military dictatorship here in America.

The real-life Business Plot was thwarted by General Smedley Butler (in the film the character is named Gil Dillenbeck and is portrayed by Robert DeNiro), one of America’s greatest but least known heroes, but was successfully covered up, disparaged and then memory-holed by the powers that be who control the media.

In real-life the Business Plot’s failure was only temporary though because in the long term it’s been a smashing success. Over the years the “Business Plot” simply morphed into other forms and used other tactics to find success.

The most obvious was when, thirty years after the Business Plot was thwarted, President John F. Kennedy, who had promised to “splinter the CIA in a thousand pieces and scatter it to the wind”, got his brains splintered into a thousand pieces and scattered to the wind in Dealey Plaza by the the oligarch’s intelligence/muscle division - the CIA…oops, I mean by a “lone nut” (wink-wink)…all because Kennedy wasn’t going to make the villainous vampire class gobs of money by greenlighting the war in Vietnam, among a myriad of other reasons.

Prescott Bush (who, along with many of his Business Plot co-conspirators, supported the Nazis before and during World War II) had a son, George HW Bush – who later become the Director of the CIA, as well as Vice President and eventually President, he earned his stripes by being an integral part of the plot against JFK.

Nearly twenty years later in 1981, George HW Bush was Vice President to Ronald Reagan when The Gipper had the great misfortune of getting shot just months after his inauguration by…you guessed it…another “lone nut” (wink-wink), this one named John Hinckley.

If Reagan had died Bush would’ve inherit the throne – and would have been eligible to be president for nearly 12 years (nearly three full terms) since Reagan had just started his presidency…which makes the fact that the Bush family had deep connections to John Hinckley’s family, so deep in fact that Scott Hinckley (John Hinckley’s brother) was scheduled to have dinner at Neil Bush’s (HW Bush’s son) home the week of the assassination attempt, a very uncomfortable “coincidence” (wink-wink).

Since the assassination/execution of JFK, we’ve had a succession of fascist monsters from both political parties occupying the White House and ruling the land, most notably, but not exclusively, the aforementioned George HW Bush, as well as his diabolical son George W. Bush.

George W. Bush, you may recall, was president when 9/11 occurred and the War on Terror and War in Iraq were launched and ultimately failed, the torture and surveillance regime became mainstream, and the big money interests raped and pillaged America and gutted the working class…again…and then got “bailed out” by their cronies.

9/11 is another of those unfortunate Bush family coincidences (wink-wink), because on the morning of the attack George W. Bush, former President and father of the then current President, was at the D.C. Ritz-Carlton as a representative for the Carlyle Group meeting with the brother of Osama bin Laden – the CIA asset the CIA claimed perpetrated the 9/11 attack, sort of like how CIA asset Lee Harvey Oswald committed the JFK assassination. I’d wink again but I’m fresh out of winks.

As much as I’d like to ignore the abominable cinematic calamity of Amsterdam and dive deep into the rabbit hole and talk about the machinations of the wicked witches and warlocks ruling this country, I simply must, for the moment, return to this shit sandwich of a movie.

I suppose it is to Amsterdam’s credit that it even dares to bring up the Business Plot, something of which most people are completely unaware, but the movie is so cinematically repulsive and artistically repugnant that one must seriously consider that it’s an intentional piece of counter-intelligence propaganda meant to trigger audience revulsion at the mere mention of the Business Plot because it’s connected with this odious movie.

David O. Russell has always been an abysmal filmmaker, but Amsterdam is such a poorly made and dreadfully written, directed and acted film that it’s like Russell’s shitty filmmaking machine went into hyper-drive. The notion that Russell intentionally scuttled the production by imposing an astounding level of his fecal filmmaking flair in order to…I don’t know… appease some higher ups in the ruling class food chain in the hopes that his recent “troubles” – which include sexually harassing his transgender teenage niece/nephew, becomes less insane than it obviously sounds.

Whatever the reason, Amsterdam is sufficiently heinous enough that the Business Plot now has zero chance of becoming well-known amongst the piss-ants, proles and plebes of the general population.

Amsterdam has rightfully, and in my case righteously, been savaged by critics and lost nearly a $100 million at the box office, so congrats David O. Russell and your oligarchical overlords, your secret is safe as no studio executive will touch a Business Plot movie for at least the next 1,000 years, then it’ll be the problem of the next Reich, which by my calculations will be the Fifth, to put the fix in.

From a cinematic perspective, Amsterdam’s failure is no fluke as the script is an incomprehensible abomination that features a plot that’s so convoluted and so tonally incoherent as to be egregiously abrasive.  

Russell’s amateurish, heavy-handed and heinous direction is laughable, if not criminal. The reality is that Russell has always been a cinematic charlatan. Always. His movies, like The Fighter, Silver Linings Playbook and American Hustle, have generated some broad-based appeal but they have been, for the most part, vacuous, vapid and venal piles of shit.

Russell’s movie Three Kings was his most interesting but…that’s not saying much. And just a reminder, Three Kings, which was about the first Gulf War, wasn’t an anti-war film at all but was actually advocating for MORE war…and magically the war it hoped for came to be a few years later in the wake of 9-11. Yay!

Russell makes the bizarre choice in Amsterdam to shoot a bevy of scenes where the characters are talking directly to the camera while in conversation with each other. This is so absurd as to be distracting, if not maddening. These conversations are sometimes between three or four people, and no one’s eye line matches, so it’s like Russell is cutting between characters talking in opposite directions. I get why he did it – Russell is playing the Hollywood political card and having the characters talk directly to us because they’re not-so-subtly warning us about the peril facing our democracy right now because of Trump…blah blah blah…but this sort of myopic Rachel Maddow-inspired nonsense ignores the fact that our democracy died a long, long time ago…also it’s so cinematically disjointed and disordered as to be catastrophic.

Russell’s continued focus on eyes in Amsterdam, whether they be Mike Myers weird blue ones, or Ed Begley Jr’s unblinking ones, or Christian Bale’s glass one, or the eyes of the actors speaking directly into the camera during scenes, is inanely ham-handed. Look (“see” what I did there?), we get it…the brave artist David O. Russell is trying to use his egregiously shitty movie to get us to see the Truth of our own world – but it’s so poorly done and so politically vacant it made me roll my eyes so far in the back of my head I nearly had a seizure.

As for the all-star cast…hoo-boy.

Christian Bale is a good actor and he does his best here but goodness gracious it’s like watching a man piss into hurricane-force winds and wonder why he gets wet. Bale’s Dr. Burt Berendson has a glass eye…reminiscent of the actor’s role in The Big Short…a far-superior film that should be connected to Amsterdam due to the sub-text and text of corrupt elites rigging the system but Amsterdam sucks so bad that connection is completely lost.

Margot Robbie, who plays nurse Valerie Vandenberg, is a luminous beauty, but her old timey New Yawk accent which she seems to fall back into in nearly every role, has become extremely tiresome. Robbie is a big movie star but the more you see her the less you think of her.

John David Washington, who I thought was so good in BlacKKKlansman, is so bad in this movie, and in his last bunch of movies, I can confidently declare he must have had quadruple charisma bypass surgery. Washington is simply dead behind the eyes and brings nothing to this role, so much so I could swear I hear a sucking sound every time he’s on screen.

Rami Malek has a supporting role and confirms what has become very apparent in recent years…Rami Malek is officially an awful actor. Chris Rock too has a supporting role that would have been better served if it never existed, and Taylor Swift has a supporting role and is remarkably successful in proving she’s not an actress. Good for you Taylor!

The bottom line is that the Business Plot is an important piece of history that has successfully been banished from our collective consciousness, and Amsterdam is such a God-awful, disaster of a movie that this crucial, treasonous event will only be further flushed down the memory hole and forever forgotten. Which is a shame since people should be aware that we live in a fascist, corporate hellscape ruled by cruel, vicious, blood-thirsty oligarchs just like the ones who tried to overthrow FDR, and who very successfully overthrew JFK.

This begs the question, where’s our Smedley Butler? And where’s the great Smedley Butler bio-pic or prestige TV series we so desperately need?

I’ll tell you where they are…they’re strangled in the crib by the ruthless ruling elites who use their lap dog media to stifle the truth of their tyranny and treason, ensuring it never sees the light of day and even if it did it would never be believed by the misinformed masses.

In conclusion, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, I hated Amsterdam and implore you not to waste your time watching. The truth is I watched it so you don’t have to…and boy oh boy…you really don’t have to.

Follow me on Twitter: Michael McCaffrey @MPMActingCo

©2023

The Midnight Sky - It's the End of George Clooney's World as We Know it...and I Feel Fine.

****THIS IS A SPOILER FREE REVIEW!! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS ZERO SPOILERS!!****

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. The Midnight Sky is so dreadful it makes you wish the earth were uninhabitable…especially for George Clooney

Christmas season is when movie studios put out prestige films and big box office contenders. In normal times, people flock to theatres during the holidays because they’re off work and it gives them something to do with family or, in some cases, to avoid family.

This year with coronavirus closing many theatres, the studios are still using the holidays to roll out their biggest movies but now they’re using streaming services to supplement or replace theatres. For instance, on Christmas day the Pixar animated film Soul debuts on Disney + and the highly anticipated Wonder Woman 1984 premieres in both theatres and on HBO Max.

Not to be outdone, Netflix’s early entry into the big movie holiday sweepstakes, The Midnight Sky – a film with a $100 million budget directed by and starring George Clooney, was released on December 23rd.

I’m sure Clooney and Netflix were hoping that The Midnight Sky would be the comeback vehicle to launch him back into the pop culture stratosphere…but unfortunately it is neither a crowd-pleaser nor an art house gem, and thus this cinematic rocket crashes and burns on the launch pad.

 Set in 2049, The Midnight Sky tells the story of Augustine (Clooney), a scientist dying of cancer in an outpost at the Arctic Circle who must protect a stranded young girl after an ecological apocalypse while also trying to warn an incoming space crew to stay away from earth and to start civilization over again on a moon of Jupiter. If that sounds ridiculously convoluted or just plain ridiculous to you, you aren’t alone.

Despite boasting a top-notch cast that includes Felicity Jones, David Oyelowo, Kyle Chandler and Demian Bechir, there is no genuine drama to be found in this muddled misfire of a movie.

I get what Clooney was going for with The Midnight Sky. Ever the good Hollywood liberal he wanted to make a big budget, prestige movie with a diverse cast that dramatized climate change. I’m willing to bet Clooney at least considered casting Greta Thunberg as the little girl in the movie just so he could more emphatically make his point and signal his limousine liberal virtue.

The problem is that this movie is so painfully predictable, and so full of saccharine sentimentality and maudlin melodrama that watching it makes you yearn for any disaster, ecological or otherwise, to strike as soon as possible in order to end your misery.

The film attempts to be a family drama, a space drama, an adventure story and a race-against-the-clock thriller, and it fails miserably at all of those things. Ultimately it tries so hard to be everything it ends up being a whole bunch of nothing.

It also features a dramatic climax so predictable yet cringe worthy it made me roll my eyes so hard I nearly gave myself a seizure.

I’m old enough to remember when George Clooney was at the top of the Hollywood heap and a highly respected actor, director and producer.

He was admired for being a tv and movie star but also for producing a daring live tv version of Fail Safe, directing the Oscar nominated Good Night and Good Luck, and for his Oscar winning acting in Syriana. He was also respected for starring in some ambitious movies, like Three Kings, Solaris, Michael Clayton and The American, which were notable artistic ventures for a big movie star.

But it has been quite a while since Clooney has acted in a movie that mattered, and his directing career has been on a similarly downward trajectory.

His first directorial feature was Confessions of a Dangerous Mind (2002), a quirky and somewhat endearing little movie, followed by Good Night and Good Luck (2005), which garnered him a Best Director and Best Original Screenplay Oscar nomination. After that there’s been a precipitous decline.

Leatherheads (2008), The Ides of March (2011), The Monuments Men (2014) and Suburbicon (2017) are all forgettable movies rightfully condemned to the bottom of the bargain bin at a Walmart check out counter.

Sadly, The Midnight Sky might be the very worst of them all.

In my mind Clooney has always been a sort of a poor man’s Warren Beatty, a pretty faced womanizer who wanted to be taken seriously so he used partisan politics to mask his inherent frivolousness and intellectual vapidity and vacuity.

Beatty is by far the better artist, actor, director and political animal than Clooney could ever hope to be…but that hasn’t stopped gorgeous George from using the Beatty blueprint and using it well, as Clooney’s career rewards have far exceeded his limited talent. But Clooney’s recent recurring failures, The Midnight Sky included, have exposed him to be a Hollywood emperor with no clothes.

Of course, we should shed no tears for George Clooney as he is insanely rich and lives a delightfully comfortable existence…but the writing is on the wall and in the bottom line business that is Hollywood, if Clooney doesn’t churn out a hit or award winner soon, it will be his career that suffers the apocalypse instead of earth. 

The bottom line is that The Midnight Sky is a mess of a movie you shouldn’t waste one second of your time on. My Christmas gift to you is that I watched this piece of garbage so you don’t have to. Merry Christmas to everyone!

My Rating: 1 out of 5 stars

My Recommendation: SKIP IT. This is a disastrous disaster movie.

 A version of this article was originally published at RT.

©2020