Blue Moon

At the end of Blue Moon the night of Oklahoma!’s opening swells into a quiet, desperate tableau for Lorenz Hart. After walking out of the theater, he lingers in the neighboring bar, surrounded only by the bartender Eddie and the piano‑player Morty. Their conversation circles around the triumph of Rodgers and Hammerstein, yet Hart can’t hide his bitterness—the musical feels safe and unchallenging, a reminder that his own fire has faded. He clings to the idea that a new collaboration—perhaps a play about Marco Polo—might restore his relevance, and he dreams that Elizabeth, the bright‑eyed Yale student who has become his muse, will finally arrive at his modest after‑party and validate his worth.

The party never materialises. The bar closes, most of the guests have drifted to Rodgers’ celebration, and Hart’s attempts to invite anyone— even a delivery boy—feel hollow. When Morty begins to play “Blue Moon,” the very song Hart once dismissed, the simple hum of the melody brushes away the crushing silence. Eddie, sensing Hart’s isolation, pours another drink and sits with him, sharing a brief moment of companionship. Hart tells the small, attentive audience the story of how the song’s title was originally different, a quiet act of storytelling that seems to give him a fleeting sense of purpose.

The film then jumps forward. A month after the night of Oklahoma!, Hart’s mother dies, leaving him even more adrift. In November 1943, weakened by years of alcohol and a lingering pneumonia, he is found collapsed on the sidewalk outside the same Manhattan bar. He is taken to a hospital, where, four days later, he quietly passes away. The final lyric of “Blue Moon”—“You saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own”—echoes over his death, underscoring the tragic irony that the song he once dismissed perfectly captures the solitude that defined his final years.

The ending ties together Hart’s lingering hope for artistic redemption (the successful revival of A Connecticut Yankee becomes his last credited work), his unreciprocated love for Elizabeth, and his enduring need to be heard. By closing on the gentle hum of “Blue Moon” and Hart’s solitary narration, the film leaves the viewer with a bittersweet portrait of a genius whose brilliance was forever eclipsed by his own yearning for connection.

Last Updated: December 10, 2025 at 15:52