Did Success Spoil Noah Baumbach?

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In Noah Baumbach‘s 2007 film, Margot at the Wedding, Jack Black plays Malcolm, an aspiring artist and musician who’s a bit of a drifter. His fiancée points out that he’s competitive with everyone, even people who aren’t in his field – she jokes he’s competitive with Bono. Malcolm admits she’s right, explaining that he believes success is limited. He thinks there are only a few available spots, and people like Bono are occupying them. The movie suggests Malcolm feels he could be just as talented, or even more so, than a famous rock star like Bono if only there was room for everyone to succeed.

Malcolm, like many characters in Noah Baumbach’s films, is a bit delusional and thinks highly of himself, but he’s not entirely off base. Think of Bono – many people wonder what makes him an authority. This pattern appears in other Baumbach creations: Walt Berkman, a teenager who justified plagiarism by claiming he could have written the song himself; Roger Greenberg, a man who turned down a promising record deal because he felt it wasn’t artistically worthy and then wallowed in the consequences; Josh Srebnick, a filmmaker stuck on a years-long, uninspired documentary; and Harold Meyerowitz, an elderly sculptor who blames his lack of recognition on the superficiality of the art world. They all share a tendency to rationalize their failures by pointing fingers elsewhere.

These are men of all ages who feel bitter that the world doesn’t appreciate their talents. The older ones constantly replay past decisions, convinced that a different choice would have brought them the success they believe they deserve. They lack humility, instead masking deep self-hatred by lashing out at those closest to them. They rationalize their selfish actions, all while feeling like they’re the ones who’ve been ignored and mistreated. They remain emotionally immature, unable to accept that they aren’t the center of the universe, and their large egos are often paired with a surprising lack of practical life skills, like cooking, driving, or swimming.

Noah Baumbach’s films often feature difficult fathers, a recurring theme in his work. A prime example is Jeff Daniels’ character in The Squid and The Whale, a failed writer who makes his son feel superior while constantly putting others down – dismissing classic books and criticizing his son’s girlfriend. This pattern continues with Philip Seymour Hoffman’s character in the film Meyerowitz, a father who is self-absorbed and only sees his children as extensions of himself. Even though his son, played by Ben Stiller, is financially successful, Baumbach suggests that only artistic achievement truly matters. In a poignant scene, the son shouts at his father as he drives away, but the father remains distant and uninterested in his son’s life.

I’ve identified a recurring character in Noah Baumbach’s films – the ‘Baumbach male’ – because his latest movie, Jay Kelly, surprisingly features very little of this familiar type. Jay Kelly feels like Baumbach’s most obvious attempt to win awards, a film celebrating the power of movies that was expected to be an Oscar contender but ultimately received no nominations. However, the film is also one of his weakest, leaning towards sentimentality and lacking the qualities that made his previous work so appealing to audiences who, despite themselves, often saw a bit of their own flaws in his frustrating and unlikeable male characters. In Jay Kelly, the ‘Baumbach male’ is reduced to a minor role, highlighting the director’s new focus: exploring the world of artists who seem to aspire to be more like celebrated figures like Bono than more grounded individuals.

Noah Baumbach, 56, is known for realistically portraying the lives of white people born in the 1960s and 70s – from the awkwardness of being a teenager in The Squid and the Whale to the challenges of midlife in films like While We’re Young and Marriage Story. His latest film, Jay Kelly, focuses on aging and confronting mortality. George Clooney stars as Jay Kelly, a successful Hollywood actor in his 60s, reminiscent of classic stars like Gene Kelly, Gary Cooper, and Cary Grant. Jay’s comfortable life is disrupted by several events: his youngest daughter leaving for college, the loss of a mentor, and a reconnection with Tim, an old friend from acting school whose career never took off, while Jay’s flourished.

Jay fears he’s become a fake, a hollow image created by fame and Hollywood, as superficial as the movie sets he’s always on. After a few drinks, Tim bluntly asks Jay if he even exists as a real person. Tim, in contrast, feels genuinely present, though he’s frustrated with his ordinary life – and he blames Jay for getting the role that could have made him a star. Billy Crudup plays Tim as quietly resentful, making him the film’s classic Baumbach character: a struggling artist. Initially, the movie seems to be setting up a conflict between these two opposites – failure and success, the two sides of Baumbach’s world. When Jay wonders about the person he used to be, Tim retorts that Jay wouldn’t like that person. He despises the younger Jay for taking his opportunity and the current Jay for romanticizing a time when he was unknown – something only someone successful can afford to do.

Baumbach clearly had rich material to work with – a pivotal moment for his characters that would shape their future and how they see themselves. It’s a point where they judge what makes a life valuable. However, instead of a serious confrontation with Tim, the story sends Jay on a scenic journey through France and Italy, hoping to connect with his daughter, Daisy. She’s enjoying a carefree last summer before college with her friends – living it up on her parents’ dime and exploring Europe – and understandably doesn’t want her father tagging along. This leaves Jay surrounded by his team – his publicist, Liz (Laura Dern), and manager, Ron (Adam Sandler, who doesn’t get enough to do) – as he travels to a film festival in Tuscany to receive an award, all while reflecting on his past.

The trip itself is uneventful. A brief, unresolved storyline involves a former relationship between Liz and Ron. Jay unexpectedly stops a robbery and becomes a reluctant media figure, which only reinforces his sense that his life feels artificial. Through flashbacks, we see a confrontation with his daughter, Jessica, who blames his career for the family’s issues. Jay’s obvious success is a departure from the typical family dynamics in Baumbach’s films, where fathers often inflict emotional damage on their children. In fact, Jay’s physical absence as a father seems preferable to the constant, overwhelming presence of Baumbach’s other, more damaging paternal figures – like Bernard Berkman, whose custody battles weren’t about love, but about control. While in Tuscany, Jay also attempts to address his own strained relationship with his father, but this father lacks the intense negativity common in Baumbach’s portrayals of bad dads.

Ultimately, Jay finds himself alone except for his loyal friend Ron, and begins to question the meaning of his life and career. (Don’t worry, he eventually finds purpose.) The film draws inspiration from Federico Fellini’s 8 ½, a classic exploration of self-doubt, but it also echoes the heartwarming realization in Love Actually where Bill Nighy discovers his manager is the one he loves. The film could have easily been a failure, but George Clooney saves it. He brings a captivating presence and a touch of sadness to the role, and at 64, he still radiates charm, even outshining his co-star. However, Clooney can’t portray the feeling of failure – of being ordinary and overlooked – because, unlike most people, he’s always been admired.

Director Noah Baumbach points out a common theme in his films: characters who define themselves by what they haven’t achieved. He recently explained to the New York Times that seeing a lack of success as failure is a mistake, but so is measuring your worth solely by your accomplishments. Both approaches, he says, prevent you from truly understanding who you are, and this is particularly true for his character, Jay.

I don’t really agree that things are as equal as some suggest. (The downsides of success, even if it creates its own set of problems, seem much less damaging than those that come with failure.) It’s also obvious that Baumbach’s films have undergone a real shift, beginning with Marriage Story. Previously, his on-screen stand-ins were often characters like Jesse Eisenberg and Ben Stiller – awkward, deeply insecure men who felt constantly uncomfortable. Then he started portraying someone like Adam Driver: tall, attractive, and projecting confidence. Driver plays a highly successful theater director, even winning a prestigious MacArthur “genius” grant – an award his earlier characters would have obsessively dreamed about. The film starts with his wife-to-be listing, in a letter to their therapist, all the ways he’s a good father: “It’s almost annoying how much he likes it, but it’s mostly nice.” That felt like a new direction.

Noah Baumbach’s films aren’t directly based on his life, but they’re clearly shaped by his experiences. His parents’ divorce inspired The Squid and the Whale, and his split from Jennifer Jason Leigh influenced Marriage Story. The death of his father, writer Jonathan Baumbach, occurred shortly after The Meyerowitz Stories, a film exploring the enduring need for a father’s attention and the pain that can come from that relationship. It’s easy to see parallels between Baumbach and the frustrated male characters in his films, who feel overlooked by the world. He once admitted that The Squid and the Whale, made after a period of professional difficulty, remains deeply personal. It’s possible that this sense of resentment and belief in one’s own unrecognized talent are essential qualities for an artist—that a bit of frustration and anger can be a powerful creative force.

Noah Baumbach, a father to three children with his partners Greta Gerwig and Leigh, seems to have become more emotionally open. He recently told GQ that he cries more often and finds more joy in life. This shift is reflected in his recent work; his collaborations with Gerwig, including Frances Ha and Barbie, are noticeably more upbeat than his earlier films. While Marriage Story was a success, White Noise—a big-budget adaptation of Don DeLillo’s novel—didn’t quite work out, and seemed to indicate Baumbach was searching for new direction. His latest film, Jay Kelly, feels like a personal reflection, a look back at his own life and career with the perspective that comes with age and success.

What happens when you finally get what you want, when the world sees you as you see yourself? While not one of his strongest films, Marriage Story demonstrates that Noah Baumbach is willing to experiment and often succeeds. A standout scene near the end features Adam Driver singing “Being Alive” in a bar, slightly tipsy and emotional – a typical setting for a Sondheim song. It could easily be awkward, but it works beautifully, balancing an oddness that keeps it interesting with a genuinely moving appeal to universal feelings like love, regret, and the fear of loneliness, thanks to Sondheim’s powerful songwriting. In that moment, Driver’s character feels similar to Baumbach’s other flawed characters, those who initially seem important but ultimately have their illusions shattered, forcing them to accept a life they never imagined – a life they once considered beneath them, as seen in Greenberg. Hopefully, Baumbach remembers what that feeling is like.

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2026-01-28 15:58