– A movie review by Poojan Patel
Intense Confusing Compelling Unsettling Worth-a-watch (?) Dream vs.Reality
Ari Aster’s latest, Beau is Afraid, is a wild, unsettling ride through the psyche of a deeply troubled man, Beau (played with chilling authenticity by Joaquin Phoenix). However, buckle up, because this is a three-hour exploration of fear, memory, and the murky space where dreams and reality blur.
The film’s brilliance lies in its intense atmosphere. Aster masterfully crafts a world where confusion and dread are constant companions. The film cleverly blurs the lines between reality, dreams, and memories, leaving you constantly questioning what’s really happening to Beau. You’ll spend a good chunk of the movie questioning what’s real and what’s a figment of Beau’s fractured mind. While other characters exhibit their own anxieties, Beau’s fear seems to permeate everything. Is it a reflection of his troubled relationship with his overbearing mother, or something more sinister? This ambiguity is both compelling and unsettling.
Diehard Ari Aster fans may be surprised to learn that “Beau is Afraid” has a much longer, albeit less terrifying, history. The film’s central character, Beau, first sprouted from a 2011 short film by Aster. Back then, the late Billy Mayo took on the role of Beau in a much simpler premise: a man struggling to leave his apartment due to misplaced keys. The chilling twist? The keys inexplicably vanish from the front door, leaving a sense of unease that foreshadows the nightmarish odyssey Beau embarks on in the feature film.
This intriguing origin story adds another layer to “Beau is Afraid” – hinting at the director’s long-standing fascination with fear, anxiety, and the boundaries between reality and paranoia. It also offers a fascinating glimpse into the evolution of Aster’s filmmaking style, showcasing how a simple idea blossomed into a sprawling, genre-bending exploration of the human psyche.
Phoenix delivers a career-defining performance as Beau. He embodies the man’s crippling anxiety and social awkwardness with heartbreaking sincerity. You can’t help but empathize with Beau, even as his journey takes some truly bizarre turns.
For fans of Aster’s previous works like Hereditary and Midsommar, Beau is Afraid might feel like a step down. The sprawling narrative, while ambitious, can be disjointed at times. The film’s near-three-hour runtime tests your endurance, and the relentless focus on darkness and dread can leave you feeling emotionally detached from the characters.
Aster’s Trademark Dread Meets Satirical Fear in “Beau is Afraid”
Director Ari Aster brings his signature slow-burn dread to “Beau is Afraid,” but with a twist. While the film boasts outrageous violence, the advertised fear takes a satirical turn. Aster playfully mocks Beau, a hapless man-child crippled by a laundry list of anxieties—agoraphobia, arachnophobia, you name it. Add a (barely-there) genetic condition that explains his lifelong virginity, and you’ve got a recipe for comedic horror. Expect the internet to be flooded with animated GIFs of this unfortunate affliction soon enough.
Beau is Afraid is not for the faint of heart. It’s a challenging film that demands your patience and attention. However, for those willing to take the plunge, it offers a unique exploration of the human psyche, a descent into a world where fear reigns supreme. It may not be Aster’s masterpiece, but it’s a compelling, thought-provoking journey nonetheless.
“Beau is Afraid” is full of darkly funny moments. Aster introduces us to Grace and Roger, a disturbingly cheerful couple who “adopt” Beau after accidentally hitting him with their truck. Later, Beau finds himself rescued by the “Orphans of the Forest,” a strange commune with questionable practices. Aster masterfully navigates the line between relatable characters and those who veer into the realm of the bizarre.
However, while Beau enjoys moments of misplaced comfort, the audience can’t ignore the constant undercurrent of danger. He’s surrounded by unpredictable people: a jittery cop who mistakes him for a killer, a war-torn soldier with a terrifying look in his eye. These encounters can be entertaining in short bursts, and some viewers might find this style appealing. But for a film stretched to three hours, the comedic moments feel like a disjointed collection of sketches. Ultimately, the uneven pacing undermines the film’s potential impact.
Aster keeps the audience dangling for a good chunk of the film, dangling the carrot of a major mommy-trauma reveal that never quite arrives with the expected impact. Without these crucial flashbacks (where, in a surprise twist, the enigmatic Zoe Lister-Jones portrays the formidable Mona), Beau’s desires remain frustratingly opaque. Phoenix throws his full weight into the role, perfectly embodying the defeated Beau. However, while his performance is undeniable, the casting choice itself feels like the least adventurous in a film filled with offbeat decisions.
If you’re looking for a straightforward horror film, look elsewhere. But if you’re intrigued by the exploration of fear and the human mind, and appreciate a film that pushes boundaries, then Beau is Afraid is definitely worth a watch – just be prepared for a wild ride.
The film’s climax, while undeniably audacious, feels more like a descent into the unknown than a satisfying conclusion. As Beau hurtles through a fantastical, nightmarish landscape, the narrative threads holding the film together begin to fray. Do these events represent a twisted manifestation of Beau’s deepest fears? Or is Aster suggesting a more existential interpretation, leaving us to question the very nature of reality itself? This ambiguity, a hallmark of Aster’s work, will undoubtedly spark fervent debate among its viewers. However, for some viewers, the lack of clear resolution may feel frustrating. Is it a deliberate provocation, or simply a case of narrative ambition outpacing execution? Only time, and countless future viewings, will tell if “Beau is Afraid” stands as a masterpiece of filmmaking or a beautiful house built on shaky foundations.
