George Clooney’s ‘The Tender Bar’ gets one thing right: Ben Affleck

Who doesn’t love an underdog story? As a director, George Clooney has reveled in scrappy tales about striving for triumph in the face of outrageous opposition, be it his plucky sports movie Leatherheads, the apocalyptic heroism of Midnight Sky, or the outlandish biopic of a game show host/self-proclaimed hitman, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. His latest, The Tender Bar, is far more grounded, following the true story of American journalist J. R. Moehringer, who grew up in Long Island, under the tutelage of his uncle, a bombastic blue-collar intellectual. Unfortunately, this biopic is so sopping in sentimentality that it lacks the texture to truly be gripping.

Ben Affleck stars as Uncle Charlie, who has a warm but mischievous grin from which endless advice pours. Be nice to your mother. Open doors for people. Never hit a woman. “Don’t try sports.” Though macho, this tender bartender (get it?), who’s named his pub after Charles Dickens, doesn’t suspect his young nephew (Daniel Ranieri) to follow in his swaggering footsteps. He encourages the kid to be his own man, and he fills in for the absent father whose shadow hangs heavy and cold. “Don’t look for your father to save you,” Uncle Charlie warns. But because J.R.’s deadbeat dad is a radio DJ, the sound of his voice is just a switch of the knob away.

Clooney leans hard into such sentimentality.

The yellow glow of the radio display tints most of the film, a constant low-hum reminder of the ache in J.R.’s heart. Clooney leans hard into such sentimentality, from familiar characters to heavy-handed voiceover from Future J.R. (Ron Livingston), whose smugly resigned tone assures it’ll all work out okay. Along the way, The Tender Bar introduces barstool academics, a hardnosed single mom (Lily Rabe), who demands her son go to Harvard or Yale, and a cantankerous grandfather (Christopher Lloyd) who can clean up nice if the occasion calls for it. There’s also Uncle Charlie’s shiny Cadillac, a symbol of radiant manhood. And then, screenwriter William Monahan’s slaps in cliched voiceover lines, like “from that moment, I knew I wanted to be a writer.”

This exact line might appear in Moehringer’s memoir. But even if it does, the Academy Award-winning writer of The Departed should have known better than to include it here. Sadly, such trite cliche speaks to the mediocrity of this movie as a whole. Sure, it’s got some lovely elements, a storied ensemble, and a vaguely inspirational story, but mostly, it’s just vague. The supporting characters have a spark, but little specificity. The barflies are interchangeable. The mom and grandfather are stodgy stock characters. Reflective voiceover from Future J.R. should reflect how this boy — despite setbacks — will become a compelling writer. But the characterizations in his memory movie are too hazy to believe he will. His muses and musings are too mundane.

Perhaps Clooney worried making the supporting characters more spectacular might detract from his hero. Sadly, J.R. is a bore all the same. As a kid, he is cute, mostly relegated to quiet awe over his uncle. As a young man (played by Tye Sheridan), he is smug and insufferable. The transition is jarring, not only because of a big jump in the timeline, but also because of a barrage of little leaps that thwart any sense of flow.

Monahan’s screenplay races through a central romance. One moment J.R. meets a sparkling young woman named Sidney (Briana Middleton). The very next sequence, his mother is asking if he’s in love. Two scenes later, the pair break up, but without even a fight. The love that’s meant to be central to his motivation is played as an afterthought, while other big moments are kept entirely offscreen.

After a predictable sequence where the boy’s dad fails to turn up, J.R.’s voiceover snoozily summarizes a series of shocking turns, including his father getting arrested on-air, fleeing the state, and threatening to murder his ex-wife and kidnap his young son. Breakdowns, breakups, poverty, cancer, and domestic violence are likewise glossed over in dialogue or kept offscreen. It’s as if Clooney was so dedicated to a feel-good vibe that he treats the feel-bad bits like distasteful gossip, only worth whispering. But without showing them, J.R.’s struggles don’t feel urgent or profound.

Ben Affleck is fun. But he’s fun in far better films.

Sheridan is adrift in scenes of flirtation and frustration.The only time Clooney commits to a conflict is a curious confrontation between J.R. and Sidney’s mother (Quincy Tyler Bernstine), who is not remotely impressed by the uncouth young man at her breakfast table. It’s a passive-aggressive battle of resentment, class conflict, and arguably race, as a poor but cocky white boy exchanges cutting remarks with a rich Black woman. Here the tension is bracing, the stakes clear, and the J.R.’s fury given a focus. But what Clooney is saying in a context beyond J.R.’s anarchic urge to act out is unclear. Are we meant to side with the rude boy or the scowling mom? Before you might decide, the scene is over with a coarse zinger, and J.R. blithely walks off to another misadventure.

Inexplicably laid out as The Tender Bar is, the only one who escapes its pull of suck is Affleck. Uncle Charlie feels a natural fit for his Boston boy bravado, which can wield a threat with a playful smile and a joke with a wise wink. The story may feel inevitable, its characters stale, its protagonist a snooze. But when Affleck is onscreen, it’s at least entertaining. He effortlessly elevates the material, bringing a macho jocularity that makes the mediocre feel magical. So, yeah, Ben Affleck is fun. But he’s also fun in far better films.

The Tender Bar opens in select theaters Dec. 17 and expands nationwide Dec. 22. The film will premiere on Amazon Prime Video Jan. 7.