An aging matinee idol has his long, dark “tribute reel” of the soul in “Jay Kelly,” a George Clooney star vehicle that one-ups “first world problems” and “rich white people problems” with “movie star problems.” It’s a wealthy, famous star’s “What was it all for?” reckoning that reaches for ironic tears and never quite shakes the irony.

What writer/director Noah Baumbach and co-writer (and co-star) Emily Mortimer serve up is essentially a two hour and twelve minute rationalization of every “laundry list” acceptance speech in Hollywood history.

“I’d like to thank my agent, my manager, my stylist, my accountant…”

Those faceless names recited at awards shows? They’re real people. They’re “family.” Got it?

But “Jay Kelly” that never overcomes the sense that it’s just a well-paid working European vacation for cast and crew where Clooney gets to play a star no longer comfortable with his stardom in a movie shot close to his Italian villa.

So, tone deaf? A tad.

Clooney has the title role, that of a 60 year old star whose appeal has started to fade, along with his “quote.” He’s still making pictures back to back to back while he’s in demand, still has a “team” to manage his schedule, salary negotiations and image — headed by his manager (Adam Sandler), his publicist (Laura Dern) and his go-to stylist (Mortimer) to touch up his grey and Sharpie in black streaks for his eyebrows for any appearance that might involve cameras.

We catch up to the whirlwind of his life and work just as he’s finishing up a cop thriller. He manages a death scene which includes a big speech and a Jack Russell terrier who’s got to wander up to him on cue. Jay tries to coax the director out of another take, but gets talked out of it.

Everybody on the set applauds as “That’s a wrap for Jay Kelly” on this shoot, and we get our first sense that this ballyhoo’d holiday picture with “Awards contender” pretensions isn’t all that.

The movie within a movie is nothing anybody would want to see. The “big scene” is neither emotional nor amusing.

And Kelly’s right arm, his always-on-the-phone, juggling that next deal, arranging that flight, trying to get him to show up for a Tuscan film festival tribute, the mensch who’s always reassuring him he’s “a good person” and a “great star,” his loving “best friend” and manager, Ron, is played by Adam Sandler, the David Spade of Chevy Chases.

Ron’s the guy who tells Jay that “Pops,” the British filmmaker (Jim Broadbent) who gave him his big break, has died. That prompts a flashback to our first clues that Jay Kelly may not fit his “image.” His last meeting with aged Peter saw the old man begging him to sign on to one last movie together and Jay smiling and charming his way to “I can’t.”

There’s a daughter (Grace Edwards) ready to start college but taking off with friends for a rich kid’s version of backpacking through Europe as workaholic Jay heads off to his next project. Another daughter (Riley Keough) by an earlier mother is a San Diego pre-school teacher semi-estranged from the dad “who was never there” and who hasn’t corrected that to this day.

“Is there a person in there?”

There’s an aged dad (Stacy Keach, delightful in his dotage) Jay barely speaks to.

But none of this matters, as he has all these people paid to be his “family.”

Until, that is, Jay runs into an old acting school chum (Billy Crudup) at mentor Peter’s funeral. Tim knew Jay back when Tim was the handsome “Method” star-in-the-making who wound up abandoning acting to become a child therapist. As he’s pretty sure Jay “stole my life” in the way he got his “big break,” that’s Jay’s excuse to ditch the super expensive next film, tear his “team” away from their families and take the private jet to Europe so that he can spend more time with the one daughter he’s close to and maybe accept that Tuscan festival tribute in the bargain.

But the fact that Jay and Tim got into a fistfight in a bar parking lot — with cell phone video destined to “go viral” — is perhaps the best reason of all to flee the country and be feted by foreigners and film fans.

I kept waiting for the “check in” moment to happen in “Jay Kelly,” that early scene or bit of acting that engages and makes you invest in a movie. Here, it comes fifty minutes in.

Jay impulsively decides to surprise his kid on the second-class train from Paris to Italy, and he and his vast entourage come face to face with his adoring, indulgent public.

“How can I play people when I don’t SEE people?” Jay exults in a Nora Desmond moment.

But the strain on his family, his staff and his image are all coming to a head. That acting school flashback about the perils of being a “famous” actor are laid out, reminding Jay and us that movie stars are playing roles on and off camera.

“Do you know how hard it is to be yourself?“

There are pearls in this script and some moments away from Jay where those who work for him and profess to “love” him sting.

Manager Ron: “We’re like parents or imaginary friends” to him.

Publicist Liz : “We’re not to him what he is to us!” They are paid to be at his beck and call. He is their meal ticket. “Love” isn’t necessarily part of that transaction.

The film’s focus on that supporting “team” and their own problems has a whiff of Judd Apatow’s “This is 40.” And like that dramedy, members of Sandler’s and Baumbach’s families are among the those playing family members. That’s fine when a smaller but important role is taken by Greta Gerwig, Baumbach’s actress and “Barbie” director wife. But mostly any nepotism casting calls to attention how little — outside of Keough — was spent on that segment of ensemble.

Why did Baumbach insist on naming Jay’s mentor, played by Oscar winning actor Jim Broadbent, Peter Schneider? Animated Hollywood and Broadway already have a very famous Peter Schneider.

The picture’s shallow subject matter holds it down and that struggle for focus and “meaning” meant to be shared by the famous guy and his anonymous “help” rarely achieves liftoff. Dern and Keach sparkle, Crudup is credible as a bitter also-ran and Patrick Wilson is interesting as Ron’s “other” acting client hitting the backside of 50, the one “you’re never here for.”

Clooney? When he has a comical moment, he makes the most of it. His attempts at heartfelt epiphany left me cold.

And somebody needs to have the “Mean Girls” talk with Baumbach.

Whatever Sandler’s perceived value to Netflix, decades of lazy films that made millions despite the star’s increasingly limited range bucked-up by a vast on camera entourage of cronies and family did not transform him into a good actor.

Good movies have been made around him (“Punch Drunk Love”), and tackling a loathesome character for once (“Uncut Gems”) did him some credit. But if “The Meyerowitz Stories” should have taught Baumbach anything, it’s “Stop trying to make ‘fetch’ happen!”

Sandler is merely the sourest note in an underwhelming spectacle of a star trying to get off the treadmill and “be there” for children and others. The film becomes a sometimes tedious march through all the scenes that don’t work, many of them involving Clooney, Dern and most anybody else in the shot acting rings around not-so-Happy-looking Gilmore.

Rating:

Cast: George Clooney, Adam Sandler, Laura Dern, Emily Mortimer, Stacy Keach, Greta Gerwig, Patrick Wilson, Billy Cruddup, and Jim Broadbent.

Credits: Directed by Noah Baumbach, scripted by Noah Baumbach and Emily Mortimer. A Netflix release.

Running time: 2:12