When Nic, missing for two days, returns with obvious signs of drug use, his father David takes immediate action. He takes his son to a rehab facility and supports his progress and eventual move into a halfway house. He's a great father, we clearly see from the get-go, and though his lovely life is threatened by such insidious behavior, he masterfully controls the situation. Or at least that's how it appears at first.
Beautiful Boy is the true story of David Sheff, the bestselling author of his memoir detailing his tumultuous relationship with his drug-addicted son. While I haven't read the book, this film is a stunning interpretation of lives lived in exquisite conflicts of love. At times the film lurches between David's perspective and Nic's, and though some may find that imbalanced, I found it to be a perfect sort of balance for this story. Drug addiction is one of the most complex issues of our age, and to have it so fluidly and beautifully depicted in a drama that demonizes no one is both rare and powerful (I'm also thinking of the musical Rent and the show American Crime as similar transcendent products).
And powerful it is. By the second scene, as David takes his son to rehab, I was in tears. They did not cease until long after the credits rolled. The film takes us through a mess of scenes, episodic and often temporally unspecified, to demonstrate the unpredictability and distinct contradictions that can shape lives in thrall to drugs. Each high is followed by a corresponding low, and scenes are often shaped to depict this bipolar nature: for each father-son, brother-brother, lover-victim bonding sequence we see, we are also subjected to the violent destruction of these same relationships.
In fact, the film is almost too much like real life, a distinction few films can boast, and one that -- as here -- serves more effectively to disturb than endear. It's not a pleasant viewing experience, though it profoundly moves and can, I think, work magic on your heart. This is due, yes, to the highly impressionistic approach brought by the writer and cinematographer, but also by the leading players. Steve Carell delivers still more of his stellar work, underplaying the part and allowing the horrors his son faces to soak into his pained eyes. Timothee Chalamet, on the other hand, delivers the great performance people pretended he exhibited in Call Me By Your Name. While I still don't get his appeal in that film (sure, he was good, but Oscar-worthy?), his craft is out in full force here, turning his boyish Dorian Gray-esque charm into its opposite, sickly and sweaty and pale and endlessly pitiful.
Though the film -- and its true story -- ends on a happy note, and ultimately, I think, fulfills an inspirational need in our pre-awards-season lineup, it is by no means a feel-good holiday experience. Prepare yourself for it, because it'll hit you hard and in totally unexpected ways. But that's a good thing. I promise.
IMDb: Beautiful Boy
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