Beautiful Boy

 

A lot has been said about the subjects of Beautiful Boy and how it’s a perfect example of white privilege. While I understand the point these critics are trying to make, it is possible to comment on this without coming off an insensitive arsehole who decides empathy is only worthy for people without hefty wallets. A quote from a critic in The Guardian (shocker) does make the point that the wealthy have access to expensive treatments, but it’s just lacking in empathy.

“’It’s as close to a miracle Nic survived,’ says a doctor after an overdose, but in this universe, rich, white men get infinite chances to start again. If Beautiful Boy is meant to be a critique of artsy, moneyed liberals’ complicity regarding their privileged, addled offspring, it kneecaps itself with an onscreen message that ends the film. ‘Help is out there,’ it insists, but only if your parents can afford it – and only if you’re a beautiful boy”.

Still there is a nugget of a point buried in the badly worded argument above, and I’d like to assume this critic only failed to expand on that because of the word count imposed on her. That said, I do feel the film wasn’t suitably hard on Nic in a way it should have been. It seemed to be more inclined to sympathise with Nic (which it should) almost as though the film was written in the eyes of the parent (which I suppose it was). This is done instead of reflecting on certain factors, such loving parents and easy access to help, that less fortunate people may not have access to (which it also should).

However, empathy shouldn’t be determined by somebody’s skin colour or supposed privilege or the size of their wallets. It’s devastating to be riddled with addiction and Chalamet’s Nic makes for a frustrating figure as he constantly lets down the people who love him. It’s because the story is told mostly from the father’s perspective that we are able to see this side of addiction (it’s the opposite of Moonlight where we saw addition from a child’s point of view).

It makes Nic’s behaviour more frustrating because we get to see the harm he causes to the people that most look up to him (his brother and sister). The relationship he has with his siblings (there are some touching scenes involving Nic and his brother) shows that, deep down, he is a good person and it’s the drugs that made him the selfish person he has become.

The effectiveness of the two leading performances are what drives the film in becoming as moving as it is. Steve Carrell’s performance excels as it depicts David’s exasperation and desperation as every attempt to help his son is batted away by his son’s never-ending craving for the next hit. Chalamet’s dramatic and layered performance, full of mood swings and manipulation, carefully tows the line between making us feel angry at his selfish and entitled actions but sympathetic to his predicament.

As good as the leading performances are some of the directorial choices are too on the nose as they telegraph how you should feel. The musical choices are a prime example of this as they act like an emotional marker that indicate how one should feel during a certain scene. I think its moments like this that fuels the whole white privilege critique aimed at the film as it doesn’t quite realise that these characters are luckier than most as the help is easily available. Instead it invites you to cry at how the family has been torn apart. Another issue is the film’s editing as the flashbacks are unclear regarding where in the narrative this scene is taking place.

The fact that the film is appealing greatly to those who have personally experienced the problems depicted on screen speaks volumes about the nature of this film and how powerful a tale is it of addiction.

4/5