In 2017, nearly 70,000 Americans lost their lives to overdoses, which contributed to lowering the life expectancy in the United States. Additionally, the population is a major consumer of opioids, with 180 deaths per day in 2016 related to these cheap drugs. Belgian director Felix Van Groeningen tackles the thorny issue of American drug addiction in his new feature film, My Beautiful Boy, in theaters since February 6, 2019.
We all remember the very powerful Alabama Monroe, Felix Van Groeningen’s second film, where the weight of grief disrupted a beautiful love story. Once again, it is within a family setting that the narrative of My Beautiful Boy unfolds.
Nicolas Sheff (Timothée Chalamet) is a young, smiling, cultured, and athletic boy. Passionate about literature, he spends most of his free time drawing and writing. He reads Fitzgerald and quotes the poetry of Charles Bukowski. His father, David Sheff (Steve Carell) is convinced of his son’s talent and shows him his love every day. Their relationship is close-knit. Nicolas’ parents are divorced, and his father has remarried Karen, with whom he has two other children. This rebuilt family is a model of success and generosity. Yet, somewhere deep in Nic’s mind, a nascent disillusionment leads him to want to take drugs.
During the 2-hour film, the audience swings like a pendulum from joy to tears, from empathy to astonishment. When a cinematic work evokes so many emotions, it means it hits the mark. Based on a true story, My Beautiful Boy is carried by the masterful performances of the two main actors. Steve Carell portrays a father who progressively distances himself from his son’s illness without ever ceasing to love him. Timothée Chalamet depicts a son terrified of disappointing his father, broken by addiction and dependence. The protagonists chase, then escape each other, lie, and pursue each other until the final scene. This theme of pursuit is visually present on-screen through numerous shots and camera movements. The appearance of objects, repeatedly throughout the film, underscores the pain of Nic’s absence/presence, as he tends to disappear for a few days before retracing his steps.
Nicolas suffers from an addiction to Crystal Meth (amphetamines), a very powerful stimulant that releases dopamine and affects the central nervous system. It is an extremely dangerous drug that can cause irreversible damage if nothing is done. But what exactly can be done? This question cyclically arises in the viewer’s mind. The narrative construction focuses on this long-awaited and hoped-for recovery, each time reduced to nothing by Nic’s eternal return to the starting point. Addiction is a maze. My Beautiful Boy is a Nietzschean film.
The directing might seem dark and fatalistic, but the great strength of the work is in providing signs of a possible rescue. The embrace, a physical manifestation of love, appears dozens of times between the characters. This gesture between a father and his son becomes sacred, a pact that seals the invincible bond. One that can never be broken. Some might think the metaphor is a bit easy, a bit simple. It is not. The embrace is the counterpart of a misunderstanding. Why does Nic take drugs? No one knows. Love, for once, is the most accessible emotion in the film. The purest.
Sunrise and Sunset. The very beautiful soundtrack resonates long after viewing. Much like after a dose, one fluctuates between the sweetness of a sunrise and the anxiety of dusk. And with great rage, one wonders how a small injection can so easily kill happiness. A truly great film.
