Have you ever walked out of a theatre halfway through the movie? When you truly and utterly hate what you’re watching, there is no greater pleasure than sticking your nose up, walking out the theatre doors and exclaiming “I paid $15 for that!?” It’s cathartic knowing that if the director could see you now, they would be deeply offended by your truly brave act of protest. Unless of course, that director is Ari Aster, for whom I imagine there is no greater compliment. The director of Hereditary and Midsommar seems deeply committed to his mission of making audiences as uncomfortable as possible, and judging by the couple that walked out of my screening of Beau Is Afraid, Aster has no intention of easing up any time soon.
It’s difficult to sum this movie up in a satisfying way. We follow Beau (Joaquin Phoenix), a paranoid schizophrenic haunted by an endless parade of ghosts and delusions. The street outside Beau’s apartment is a murderous wasteland, and inside isn’t much better. Venomous spiders crawl beneath his bed, men watch him through the windows, and voices echo in his head. Most terrifying of all, Beau’s overbearing mother expects him to board a plane and come visit her. What follows is a dizzying descent into madness that blurs the line between dark comedy and epic tragedy.
On the surface, Beau Is Afraid has the hallmarks of a typical Ari Aster film; full-frontal elderly nudity, severe head trauma, and themes of familial dysfunction and tragedy. However, those expecting a relatively linear horror movie like Hereditary will be squirming in their seats by the two and a half hour mark. Rather than scaring you, Aster’s intent is to disorient you until you no longer know which way is up. Everything we are shown comes from Beau’s fractured perspective; his experience is our experience. A movie like Joker uses mental illness as a setup for a twist at the end, but we ultimately understand which parts of the narrative were real, and which were delusions. Beau Is Afraid doesn’t just use schizophrenia as a narrative tool, the narrative itself is schizophrenic, and by the end, we still understand shockingly little.
The reality we are introduced to in the first act begins to crumble in the second act, and completely dissolves by the third. We enter an abstract nightmare reminiscent of Charlie Kaufman’s I’m Thinking Of Ending Things or David Lynch’s Eraserhead (with a dash of Pink Floyd’s The Wall). This avant-garde approach will undoubtedly be appealing to some and off-putting to others. While the chaotic nature of the story makes for an unpredictable viewing experience, and many scenes are masterfully tense, the film’s bloated runtime spoils the fun. What begins as exhilarating becomes exhausting as we near the three-hour mark. That’s not to say this movie isn’t worth a watch, but after the first viewing, the prospect of rewatching feels daunting and unnecessary.
So, did I enjoy Beau Is Afraid? Yes, absolutely. Do I understand why people might stand up and walk out on this one? Also yes. Aster has succeeded once again in creating a disturbing film that will get under your skin and live in your brain for weeks after. However, unlike his previous films which were relatively concise and genuinely terrifying, Beau Is Afraid revels in being absurd, overindulgent, and confusing. Some movie-goers are undoubtedly going to want to rewatch and analyze each scene for all the things they missed the first time. Others will probably shrug and move on with their lives. While I’m still unsure which camp I’m in, I will say this: If you’re open to the idea of watching a crazed director with a blank cheque make an even crazier film, you owe it to yourself to check out Beau Is Afraid.
Matthew Iddon was born at an exceptionally young age. He aspires to one day become old. He currently resides.