Adapted from J.R. Moehringer’s memoir, director George Clooney’s The Tender Bar is story worth telling—and at times it’s well-told. But the film never fully coalesces, and it feels like a rough cut in need of further editing.
The Tender Bar has the makings of a truly touching story: Young J.R. Maguire (Daniel Ranieri) transcends his fatherless, drab 1970s Long Island origins and graduates into a writing career, guided by Charlie, his guardian angel uncle (Ben Affleck). The boy’s maturation revolves around The Dickens, a dingy bar that Charlie manages.
If all of this sounds familiar, it should: It’s another heart-tugging coming-of-age movie. Judging by the scenes that click, Clooney is a capable director, but what the film lacks is focus. Fifteen minutes could go, including a neurotic, meandering romantic subplot.
Above all, The Tender Bar is Affleck’s show. In a role that could easily go wrong and be too cloying, surly, or loutish, he deftly balances Charlie’s gruffness with the deep kindness it camouflages. The film’s high points mostly involve Charlie and the bar’s scruffy regulars—warmly funny scenes exuding good-naturedness in their unpatronizing portrayal of working-class people.
The supporting cast is solid, too. Several standout performances include Ranieri in his debut role as young J.R., Lily Rabe as J.R.’s harried single mom Dorothy, and Christopher Lloyd, who’s up to his usual eccentric character actor high jinks as J.R.’s cantankerous granddad, who gets showcased in a scene with young J.R. at school.
Among the few off-key performances is Max Martini as “The Voice,” J.R.’s absent dad, known almost solely as a disembodied radio disc jockey. This complete wretch is a well-written part, but it belongs in the hands of a sketchier, scarier, and more nuanced actor—say, a young Rip Torn. Also, Tye Sheridan turns in an indifferent performance as the collegiate J.R.
The film’s most egregious flaw is The Tender Bar’s relentless period hit parade. By themselves, the songs are fine—there are just too many of them, piling up and bombarding the audience. More of a connection should have been drawn between the nonstop musical barrage and the Martini character’s broadcasts, but, again, the film stays unfocused. With that said, several tracks, including Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” and King Harvest’s “Dancing in the Moonlight,” are used effectively.
Production designer Kalina Ivanov and costume designer Jenny Eagan both contribute beautifully here. The look and feel of blue-collar Long Island is convincing—you can practically smell the Rice-A-Roni, Schaefer Beer, and Tiparillos. The Tender Bar also deserves praise for not glossing over or erasing a prior generation’s looser standards: Like in real dive bars, characters enthusiastically smoke, including Charlie. Little J.R. gets sent out to buy smokes, as working-class kids sometimes did. There’s an enjoyable lack of revisionism here, and not entirely without consequences for its characters.
The Tender Bar definitely has its moments, but it’s overly familiar tropes and unfinished feel make it very uneven. This particular dive bar isn’t to be avoided completely—just know that most of what you’ll get on tap is a little watered-down.
The Tender Bar
R, 106 minutes
Streaming (Amazon Prime)