Lorenz Hart, called Larry by most people, was one of the greatest lyricists of all time. He and Richard Rodgers created songs of ineffable wit and pure poetry, mingling melancholy with romanticism, songs like “My Funny Valentine” (“Your looks are laughable/unphotographable/but you’re my favorite work of art”), “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered” (“I’m wild again, beguiled again/A simpering, whimpering child again/Bewitched, bothered and bewildered – am I”), and the song that gives this movie its title, “Blue Moon” (“And then there suddenly appeared before me/The only one my arms will hold/I heard somebody whisper, “Please adore me”/And when I looked, the moon had turned to gold”).

This movie takes place on one night, almost entirely in one place, Broadway’s favorite bar and restaurant, the now-century-old Sardi’s. It is 1943, and it is a night that will change American theater and the fortunes of Rodgers and Hart forever. Unfortunately the fortunes of the two men will change in opposite directions. It is the opening night of “Oklahoma!” (with an exclamation point in the title), which moved Broadway musicals from fanciful light entertainment with forgettable plots and dancing chorus girls doing taps and kicks to stories about American archetypes, choreographed by Agnes de Mille, who made the dance help define the story and characters, and with songs by Rodgers and his new partner, Oscar Hammerstein, that moved the story forward.

Hart (played by Ethan Hawke, with a comb-over and some movie magic to make him appear to be under five feet tall), sees the opening number of the show and knows immediately that it will be a huge hit, that it is corny and superficial, that he could never produce anything like it, and that his partnership with Rodgers is doomed. So he leaves the play and goes to the bar, where he talks to a sympathetic bartender (Bobby Cannavale) and a GI on leave, playing the piano (Jonah Lees).

One of the most heartbreaking and beautifully written scenes of the year has Rodgers (Andrew Scott) and Hart talking about the possibility of working together again. They argue about the purpose and meaning of what they do. Hart wants to send a message. Rodgers wants to make people happy and be successful. Rodgers wants to meet at 9 and work on a schedule. Hart wants to struggle for inspiration. It is agonizing to watch as it is for the characters because they have obvious respect and admiration and gratitude for one another, and because they are both right, both wrong, and incapable of finding a way to reach one another. Another brilliantly conceived scene has two of the mid-century’s most gifted writers talking to each other, Hart and E.B. White (Patrick Kennedy). The dialog is gorgeously written, a conversation between two men who know what it is to appreciate language of precision and beauty.

The movie is about Hart’s fatal combination of sense of superiority and self-loathing. We sometimes see that conflict in his lyrics, as in “The Lady is a Tramp.” He is charming and seductive but he is also smart enough to deliver devastating barbs. Hart is anguished by longing for the impossible, here personified by a 20-year-old college girl named Elizabeth (Margaret Qualley).

He wants desperately to be loved. He quotes the line from “Casablanca,” “Nobody ever loved me that much.” But he is so terrified of the risks of intimacy that he is compelled to pursue the unobtainable or push away anyone who might get too close, to make sure he never gets another “I love you, but not that way” response. Elizabeth wants to use him to meet Rodgers, but she really does care for him. Unfortunately, what she loves about him is his endless, hungry interest in what she says, things, and does, which she is young enough to mistake for affection instead of manipulation and a twisted sense of himself as the participant in her stories rather than the one who hears them after the fact.

Elizabeth is based on a real-life character whose correspondence with Hart was part of the basis of the film. But the big scene between them is a disappointment, too long, too redundant. The brief appearances by not-yet-famous visitors to the opening night party whose names might be more recognizable today could be of interest to those immersed in theater history, but it becomes stunt-ish and distracting. That is just because the rest of it is so good we want to get back to what it does

Director Richard Linklater and screenwriter Robert Kaplow last worked together on the under-appreciated “Me and Orson Welles,” another story about a complicated creator of ambitious art. And Linklater has a second film coming out this year, “Nouvelle Vague,” about another complicated creator of ambitious art, Jean-Luc Goddard as he made his first film, “Breathless.”

In the film, Hart explains that he fell in love with intricate internal rhymes when he heard George M. Cohan’s “Over There.” Kaplow’s script is itself lyrical, a beautiful meditation one life, art, loss, and longing, and this film shows us that Hart is himself something of an intricate internal rhyme, complex, unexpected, and sometimes hard for others to understand.

Parents should know that this movie includes drinking and alcoholism, smoking, strong language, and explicit sexual references.

Family discussion: Why was it hard for Rodgers and Hart to understand each other and compromise? What do we learn from Hart’s conversation with E.B. White?

If you like this, try: Listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing the Rodgers and Hart songbook, and if you don’t mind its utter historical inaccuracy and just want to enjoy performances of classic Rodgers and Hart songs by Judy Garland, Lena Horne, Betty Garrett, and Mickey Rooney, watch “Words and Music”

In year 13, the Middleburg Film Festival founded by Sheila Johnson continues to delight, astonish, and inspire. This year featured a dazzling array of films that are certain to add to the previous years’ record of 63 Oscar nominations for predecessors on the festival schedule. George Clooney’s “Jay Kelly,” Yorgos Lanthimos’ “Bugonia,” with Emma Stone and Jesse Plemons, Sidney Sweeney as boxer Christy Martin in “Christy,” Guillermo del Toro’s “Frankenstein,” starring Oscar Isaac and Jacob Elordi, the new “Knives Out” movie “Wake Up Dead Man,” Nia DaCosta’s “Hedda,” a re-imagining of Ibsen’s “Hedda Gabbler,” Cannes Grand Prix winner “Sentimental Value,” and Jeremy Allen White in “Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere” were among the most talked-about.

The festival’s audience award was a tie this year, the winners Hikari’s gentle, touching “Rental Family,” starring Brendan Fraser as an American actor living in Japan who goes to work for a company that provides people to act as family members or friends or proxies for those to whom they cannot say what they want, and “Hamnet,” the story of the death of Shakespeare’s young son.

The documentary award went to “The Cycle of Love,” the story of PK Mahanandia, a 23-year old Delhi street artist who in 1977 set off on a 6000-mile cross-continent bicycle ride to find Lotta, the woman who had captured his heart on a visit to India. And the International Awards went to  Ben Hania’s film, “The Voice of Hind Rajab,” based on the voice recordings of a six-year old who came under fire as she and six members of her family tried to flee Gaza City. The film is Tunisia’s official selection for the Best International Feature Oscar. 

Many of the filmmakers and performers were there, including “Frankenstein” costume designer Kate Hawley, who was interviewed by Variety’s Jazz Tangcay after the film, and actress Nina Hoss, whose performance in “Hedda” as Eileen Lovborg is based on a male character from the original play. Composer Nathan Johnson told us about developing different tones and themes to match the genres of the “Knives Out” movies.

I was honored to be included on the annual “Talk Back to the Critics” panel with my friends Travis Hopson, Tim Gordon, Jen Chaney, Roxana Hadadi, and Mae Abdulbaki.

As always, the highlight of the festival, along with the unmatchable gorgeousness of fall in Virginia’s hunt and wine country, is the unique annual tribute to a composer, accompanied by a full orchestra. This year it was Kris Bowers, who brought clips from films that included “Green Book,” “Origins,” and “The Wild Robot,” to show us how his music enriched the stories with emotion that only music can touch.

A character in “Ballad of a Small Player” tells a story about a gambler who dies and discovers that in the afterlife he is still gambling, but now he always wins. “This heaven?” he asks in amazement. “No,” he is told. “You’re in hell.”

The import of the story may be lost on the person it is told to, but it is not lost on the audience, who will understand that it is the story we are watching. Not because he is a winner, but because winning or losing, the gambling compulsion is its own hell.

In this film, the part of hell is played by Macao, the real-life gambling capital of the world, gorgeously photographed by James Friend. It looks like gambling may feel to someone who cannot give it up; thrilling, glamorous but also seedy, seductive, and dangerous.

The character who calls himself Lord Doyle (Colin Farrell) is a gambler. He wakes up in a luxurious hotel room littered with the clutter of a dozen different room service meals. He shaves and dresses in a handsome and expensive-looking green velvet suit, and fails to duck the hotel management that would like him to pay up on the $350,000 he owes them. A bellman explains he can no longer get access to the hotel limos, but whispers the name Rainbow, a casino that gives credit.

The big money game is Baccarat, and Doyle tells us millions can be won and lost in a single hand. The hostess/purveyor of credit is Dao Ming (Fala Chen). Later, after a gambler commits suicide by leaping out of a window, his widow accuses Dao Ming of causing her husband’s death and Doyle protects her. Dao Ming brings him back to her apartment. The next morning, he wakes to find her gone, but she has written a number on his palm.

The pressure on Doyle intensifies when he is tracked down by an investigator from London (Tilda Swinton), seeking repayment of money he stole when he was still called by his original name, Riley. If he does not pay back almost a million pounds, she will have him arrested.

Elements of the film tell us it may be a dream, a fantasy, or a deathbed hallucination. Or perhaps it is hell, with Doyle/Riley stuck in some kind of loop of big risks and bad decisions.

Parents should know that this film includes suicides, strong language, drinking, smoking, drug use, and criminal behavior.

Family discussion: How are Riley and Dao Ming alike and how are they different? What part of this film is a dream or fantasy?

If you like this, try: “Hard Eight” and “Molly’s Game”

If you could trade places with someone, who would it be? Going back to Mark Twain’s The Prince and the Pauper (this is the best movie version), the idea of switching lives with someone who seems to have a more comfortable, secure, happier existence has been an appealing fantasy. The stories usually end with the discovery that the original life was better, harking back to the old Indian aphorism that you should never judge someone until you have walked in his moccasins. We’ve seen that play out in Hallmark movies (the “Princess Switch” trilogy and “Switched for Christmas”), with focus on family in “Freaky Friday” and all of its many remakes and variations, and, sometimes with more commentary on class and economic issues, as in “Trading Places.”

Aziz Ansari’s “Good Fortune” draws from all of the above with a smart, fresh, and funny take on the switched lives fantasy that has some punch in its depiction of the gig economy, the people who struggle with it and the people who profit from it.

Keanu Reeves is well cast as an angel named Gabriel, first seen in a nod to Wim Wnders’ “Wings of Desire” as he stands on top of a skyscraper, gazing down at humanity with a serious but patient and benign expression.

While other angels are responsible for big, life-changing, highly satisfying tasks, like showing a despondent man the value of his life (Stephen McKinley Henderson as Azrael), Gabriel is relegated to “texting while driving” duty. All he does is ride invisibly in the back seat of cars and touch the shoulder of the texting drivers to remind them to pay attention. He may be saving their lives but he is not involved in their lives. He complains to his supervisor, Martha (Sandra Oh) that he wants to save lost souls, but she tells him that is a complicated and demanding task and he, with the small wings of a trainee, is not ready.

Writer-director Ansari plays Arj, living in his car as he tries to stay afloat with an assortment of gig jobs, assembling furniture, waiting in line, delivering food. He lies to his father about having a new apartment as his father tells him about the success of his cousin Nuveen who works for Microsoft.

A wealthy venture capitalist named Jeff (Seth Rogen) hires Arj to clean up his garage. Arj offers to stay on as his assistant, and Jeff agrees to a one-week trial. It goes very well at first but when something goes wrong, Jeff fires Arj.

Gabriel, who has been watching Arj, decides that he has found a lost soul. And he decides that the way to make Arj appreciate all he has to live for is to switch him with Jeff. Martha asks what Gabriel is doing, and he says, “I tried to show him that wealth wouldn’t solve all his problems. It seems to have solved most of his problems.” Arj is having the time of his live in Jeff’s fabulous house and also enjoying Jeff’s having to learn what it’s like at the bottom of the socio-economic hierarchy.

We get to enjoy our own wish fulfillment on both counts, and the movie is packed with jokes that are shrewd as well as hilarious, with specifics about the details on both sides. Ansari’s range as an actor is limited but he mitigates that by writing around those limits. Rogen keeps getting better and Reeves is well cast, especially when Martha takes his wings and makes him a human, so he gets to try human pleasures like burgers, milkshakes, “chicken buggies,” and dancing for the first time. Reeves can have a blank quality that works very well in roles like John Wick, Neo, and Ted Logan. Here, though looking gaunt with his beard and long hair, it helps convey Gabriel’s innocence. The three of them have excellent chemistry. And there is the always-wonderful Keke Palmer, bringing endless warmth, grace, and good humor to give life to an underwritten role as a big-hearted co-worker who wants to organize a union and becomes Arj’s love interest.

This movie reminded me of Ken Loach’s “Sorry We Missed You,” a devastating look at the corrosive, dehumanizing, exploitive impact of the gig economy, with its faux “you’ll be our partner, not an employee” bait and switch. This film has the same impact, taking on the small indignities, dispiriting invisibility, and shattering hopelessness of the working poor with the same specificity in a highly comic fantasy/comedy. Ansari wants to make us laugh because he likes being funny, but he also wants to make us laugh because he knows that is how unsettling realities bypass our defenses.

Parents should know that this film has very strong language, smoking, drinking, and drugs.

Family discussion: What did Arj learn from living Jeff’s life? Who would you like to trade places with? What should qualify an angel for a higher-level responsibility?

If you like this, try: “Here Comes Mr. Jordan”

Grow is that rare theatrical release that is a genuine treat for the family, filled with charm and lightly dusted with whimsy.

Charlie (Priya-Rose Brookwell) lives in an English orphanage she is determined to leave so she can try to find her mother, who left her behind so she could go to Los Angeles to try to become a movie star. When the head of the orphanage, exhausted by chasing after Charlie, tracks down a relative, she is relieved to be able to hand her off.

That relative is Charlie’s Aunt Dinah Little (Golda Rosheuvel of “Bridgerton” and “Queen Charlotte”), who is struggling to keep the family farm going. She is resolved but grim about taking on another responsibility.

Dinah’s farm is in a (fictional) rural community that is obsessed with pumpkins. The annual pumpkin competition is so essential to the town’s identity that there is a permanent count-down sign showing how many days to the next festival, and a gigantic annual prize of 100,000 pounds.

A snooty titled couple called Lord and Lady Smythe-Gherkin (Tim McInnerny of “Notting Hill” and Jane Horrocks of “Little Voice” and “Chicken Run”) have won every year except once, when their pumpkin was broken, and that year the prize was taken by a local farmer named Arlo (Nick Frost, often seen with Simon Pegg in movies like “Paul,” “Shawn of the Dead,” and “Hot Fuzz”).

Charlie has a gift for communicating with plants. When Dinah discovers that Charlie can “hear” what plants need to thrive, she realizes that they have a chance to beat the Smythe-Gherkins. She also begins to think that going organic might be a way to save the farm.

Someone else is determined to win the competition, a scientist named Mr. Gregory (Jeremy Swift of “Ted Lasso”), who will lose his job if he cannot prove that his system is superior. Gregory also has a son who becomes Charlie’s friend.

Director John McPhail loves to transcend genres, and this film weaves seamlessly between elements of comedy, fantasy, family drama, and even a touch of (light) horror. The winning performances lend warmth throughout that is endearing, especially the evolving relationship between Dinah and Charlie, from duty to partnership, to family. This is a touching, funny, smart, heartfelt film that should be a family favorite.

Parents should know that this film includes parental abandonment and neglect, brief schoolyard language, and some potty humor.

Family discussion: Have you ever tried to plant something? How did Dinah change and why?

If you like this, try; “Hoot” and “Dolphin Tale”