At 54 years old, Ethan Hawke has earned four Oscar nominations without securing a win, a status he accepts peacefully—a mindset reinforced by Denzel Washington’s advice 24 years ago during the Training Day Oscar race. Hawke’s latest film, Blue Moon, a Richard Linklater biopic, reflects years of patience and collaboration, culminating in one of Hawke’s most demanding and emotionally layered performances.
Ethan Hawke Blue Moon represents both a continuation and a departure in Hawke’s career, requiring him to embody the aging struggles of songwriter Lorenz Hart during the premiere of Oklahoma!. The film, already generating significant buzz during awards season, took over a decade to complete due to Linklater’s unique directing approach and Hawke’s need to mature into the role.
The Patient Journey Behind ‘Blue Moon’
The 12-year development of Blue Moon was primarily driven by Linklater’s desire to wait until Hawke was the right age to portray Hart authentically. Unlike typical film productions that prioritize immediate casting, Linklater periodically reworked the script with screenwriter Robert Kaplow while keeping Hawke involved through multiple readings. Hawke explains the delay by noting,
I think largely, he was waiting for me to get older,
so that he could capture Hart’s weariness and disappointment. Hart died at 48, watching his collaborator Richard Rodgers rise anew with a younger partner, a reality Hawke had to convey convincingly.

Hart and Rodgers, often compared to the Lennon and McCartney of their era, faced a poignant moment at the Oklahoma! premiere, a night that marked both triumph and obsolescence. Hawke remarks,
Larry Hart, my character, would be dead within a few months of that party,
adding,
And what would that have been like for him?
This existential tension underpins much of Hawke’s performance, one shaped by deep contemplation of aging and artistic legacy.
Hawke’s Reflective Approach to His Career and Legacy
Hawke’s career spans independent films, major blockbusters, novels, and documentaries. His steady progression into character roles reflects his intentional, reflective approach—a reaction to the pitfalls he’s witnessed among peers who achieved early success. Addressing questions about his legacy, which have grown more frequent with retrospectives on his work, Hawke retains a cautious stance. He says plainly,
I think it’s a dangerous way to think,
continuing,
Thinking about things like legacy starts you thinking about yourself in the third person, and then it’s just, either way, you wind up vain or bitter. No good comes from that conversation.
His grounded perspective reveals a prioritization of craft and presence over external validation.
Throughout his artistic journey, Hawke has embraced diverse creative outlets—from graphic novels to songwriting—to nurture the curiosity and vitality that fuel his acting. This variety allows him to approach roles with freshness, including in Blue Moon, where he approached the work as if it were his first lead role. His desire to stay connected to the initial wonder and dedication of a young actor drives his career choices and artistic philosophy.
Collaboration and Camaraderie on Set
Sharing the screen with Andrew Scott, who plays Richard Rodgers, Hawke found a perfect scene partner. Having followed Scott’s career since seeing him perform Hamlet 15 years prior, Hawke recognized Scott’s extraordinary talent immediately. The two actors endured long, emotionally intense rehearsals to compress decades of a fraught friendship into a seven-page scene, capturing a complex blend of anger and sadness. Despite Scott’s 19 Emmy nominations that morning, Hawke observed,
He never mentioned it,
and added,
He never stopped for 10 minutes to say, ‘Hey, I’m going to call my agent.’ His phone didn’t ring. He wasn’t texting people like, ‘Yay.’ He just worked all day long — and he worked really hard. I went home that night thinking, ‘Wow, he really fits in this troupe.’
This disciplined, humble work ethic resonated with Hawke and highlighted the camaraderie among the cast. Scott’s theatrical background and dedication meshed well with Linklater’s meticulous rehearsal process, which itself was central to the film’s creation. Linklater demanded five weeks of rehearsal, emphasizing that rehearsal is not merely preparation but the heart of the film’s creative process.
Richard Linklater’s Unique Directorial Dedication
The decade-long timeline for Blue Moon exemplifies Linklater’s uncommon patient approach in filmmaking. Whereas most directors would have recast the part if the actor no longer matched the character’s age, Linklater’s faith in Hawke’s evolving ability reflected the strength of their longstanding collaboration. Hawke recalls that Linklater gave him the script 12 years before filming and held multiple readings and script revisions before proceeding. This devotion to precision and relationship-building profoundly shaped the film’s authenticity.
Navigating the challenges of creating a mid-budget adult drama, Sony Pictures Classics took on the distribution. This company stands out in an industry increasingly dominated by algorithm-driven studio priorities, serving as a rare platform for films like Blue Moon that explore nuanced character studies over blockbuster spectacle. Hawke praises the dedication of studio executives Michael Barker and Tom Bernard, noting Barker’s intense care, recalling a moment when Barker highlighted minor details from one of Hawke’s earlier films. This speaks to a shared commitment to preserving cinematic artistry beyond commercial metrics.
Early Career Influences and Lessons from Sidney Lumet
Hawke reflects fondly on his experience working with the late Sidney Lumet on Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, Lumet’s final film. He describes Lumet’s directing style as “tough love” with a football coach’s intensity, which taught him much about discipline and the craft of acting. Though the film was challenging, Hawke details how interviews during the press circuit offered unexpected lessons akin to a masterclass. This early experience shaped his confidence to take on demanding roles like Lorenz Hart in Blue Moon.
Moreover, Hawke acknowledges the role of fate and relationships in his career path, noting that Linklater’s unique insight into his talents was a key factor in casting him in a role not typically offered to others. This trust and patience formed the backbone of the lengthy film journey.
Hawke on Success, Failure, and Artistic Purpose
Hawke shares observations from Philip Seymour Hoffman, who described failure and success as two of the toughest challenges in their profession. Hoffman’s early Oscar win demonstrated to their generation how fame could impact self-esteem and drive. Hawke views this with sympathy, recognizing the dangers of early acclaim that might stifle long-term artistic growth.
For Hawke, true success lies in longevity and meaningful connection rather than fleeting accolades. He values the enduring appreciation of films over time, citing the surprise and satisfaction of seeing his work on a 25th anniversary retrospective. This framework underpins his commitment to diverse roles and creative endeavors beyond acting alone, allowing him to sustain passion over decades.
Reflections on Art, Humanity, and the Pressure of Technology
Hawke expresses concern about the increasing dominance of automation and artificial intelligence across industries, including the arts. He contrasts human creativity with digital precision by reflecting on a kindergarten painting of Sun Ra created by his daughter’s class, which embodies personal love and imperfection. He worries that future creations generated by AI, such as a possible James Dean movie, will lack authentic human connection.
He emphasizes that art’s genuine value lies in its messy, flawed humanity and shared emotional experience rather than perfect replication. Hawke’s comments highlight a larger cultural anxiety about maintaining human warmth and individuality in an age driven by efficiency and greed.
Maintaining Artistic Connection Through Collaboration
The relatability and “scratchy, sweaty” authenticity of performances, he argues, form the core of meaningful cinema. Hawke’s reflection that real artistry is connected to effort and imperfection underscores his deep appreciation for the collaborative process in filmmaking, where every rehearsal, argument, and embrace contributes to the finished story. Despite the pressures faced by actors and directors alike, this dedication perseveres.
Hawke’s openness about his own ongoing journey mirrors the film’s central themes of aging, creativity, and resilience. Asked if he expects any accolades soon, he quipped candidly,
No. I keep thinking he’s going to call me, but no, I’m not…yet?
Overall, Blue Moon stands as a testament to the power of patience, deep artistic partnership, and the enduring quest to tell human stories with honesty and empathy. Hawke’s transformative performance and Linklater’s deliberate vision combined over more than a decade to create a work that captures the bittersweet complexities of talent, time, and legacy.
