Rating: 8.5/10

Review contains some spoilers.

Written by Shia LaBeouf and Directed by Alma Har’el, Honey Boy is a tenderly woven tale about an actor’s struggle to come to terms with his troubled childhood and turbulent relationship with his father. A semi-biopic for LaBeouf, the film is deeply empathetic and poetic in its exploration of trauma.

Going into the film, I honestly didn’t have any expectations. By that, I mean my friend hit me up with a TIFF festival ticket so fast I barely had a minute to read the synopsis on the TIFF website. All I knew was that I should brace myself for another episode in the interesting career of Shia LaBeouf. And brace myself I did—in a good way.

The film centres around Otis, a former child actor with a history of driving under the influence. His adult self is played by Lucas Hedges, while Noah Jupe portrays Otis in his younger years. Shia LaBeouf plays his war-veteran father with his own spotty record and ferocious inner demons. Jupe’s young Otis feels so real that I couldn’t help but feel every one of his sorrows as if they were my own. Hedges’ adult Otis is vulnerable and frenetic, and acts as a nice foil to young Otis’ maturity. LaBeouf plays the father and does a remarkable job of it: his character becomes the definition of that villain you just can’t hate because he has a heart and a reason to be terrible. All three actors put on spectacularly detailed performances that transform their characters into the gravity points for the film.

I don’t mean to downplay the plot when I say that the characters are the highlight of the film. What struck me most about the film was the surreal completeness possessed by each of the sets. Every moment seemed entirely encapsulated in itself; in its own feeling. Har’el spins parallels using motifs, moments, and movements through time and between scenes that allow the audience to hone in on the ways pain is carried and expressed in Otis’ daily life, both past and present. She is able to warp time in a delicate balance between flashbacks, dreams, and present realities without ever confusing or overwhelming, though it is a little repetitive on occasion.

The film begins in the present day, with adult Otis shooting for an action film of some sort. He stares into the camera waiting for the scene to start. Glamour, a rocking soundtrack, booze, and sex soon follow in these early scenes. 

But then that’s about all we get of that. The hedonistic actor gets himself into a car accident (of course) and fortune turns on him. He’s ordered by court to go to rehab, something we learn is not a first for him. There, his parole officer/therapist diagnosis him with PTSD, and that’s where the story truly begins. The rest of the film skillfully links past and present, dreams and reality, pain and pleasure into a seamless narrative about emotional trauma, or, more specifically, about waiting for something that never really arrives. 

In the end, Otis never really gets what his childhood self waited and begged for throughout the duration of the film: a kind and loving father who would support him unconditionally. What he gets, instead, is verbal and physical abuse with a smattering of fatherly tenderness here and there. It’s actually very difficult to sit through and watch this boy suffer: have his trust broken, his joy let down, wait with him for a father who never arrives. Through several incredibly uncomfortable scenes, however, it still feels more like catharsis than anything else.Honey Boy is not a movie you want to go to with any eye makeup on, if you know what I mean. Grab a friend to hold on to, bring a comfortable sweater, and prepare to feel unsettled. Right and wrong, villain and hero, victories and losses, everything is grey in this film—and it works in its favour.