As Beau Wassermann, the character named for the third character of Ari Aster, Joaquin PhoenixWalls in amazing Intensive performance, without any hindrance. Beau, who lived next door to a diorama emporium called Ejectus Erectus, was once told by a doctor that his abnormally swollen testicles were worrisome, and it was just one of many signs this man desperately needed — how to put it subtly? – Oh, whoops, shot a load.
Three hours definitely makes Odyssey weird,
Beau Is Afraid is arguably similarly bloated, arriving at Lydia Tár, played by Patti LuPone as a single mother. But even with its uneven pacing, it’s an impressively choppy film. Bo is scared
Bottom line Dearest mother.
Release date
: Friday, April 13
list of actors : Joaquin Phoenix, Patti LuPone, Amy Ryan, Nathan Lane , Kelly Rogers, Dennis Menochet, 59 Parker Posey
, Zoe Lister-Jones, Armen Nahapetian, Julia Antonelli, Stephen McKinley Henderson, Richard Kind, Hayley Squires
Director and Screenwriter : Arie Astor
Rated R, 2 hours 1972 minute
Double titled work with the diabolical imagination that pushed Aster onto the map, Hereditary and
Midsommar, while also being a major departure into more adventurous territory, this new film will The visceral impact of tearing horror is traded for an often intoxicating swirl of Oedipal angst, paranoia, and confusion in a demented black comedy. It’s the kind of crazy family affair that only a director with credits can make, which explains why Aster tackles it now, even though the original script predates his earlier features.
It starts off with a tribute to Martin Scorsese’s
After Hours , then turns to Charlie Kauf Mann mode, with a free-splash or two of Cronenbergian eeriness.
But even though an ad spot for Ejectus Erectus subtly hinted early on about a gigantic monster,
Beau Is Afraid takes up more space in the already formidable canon of the Aster than its fearsome predecessors. It’s driven more by angst than dread, which may make it less appealing to hardcore horror consumers. But as an extraordinary journey that depends entirely on the brand, for A24, it needs to be seen.
The tormented mother-son dynamic drives the hobo-esque episode ahead, opening in the dark with heartbeats, intermittent lights and a woman worried that her newborn baby will The worst-case scenario screams until a slap on the butt reveals a wholesome, crying boy. It sets the tone for the film’s off-kilter humor and is better than Andrew Dominique’s ‘s blonde has more fun with the simulated womb camera.
Cut to 14 Years later and Phoenix’s beauty — potbellied , bald, and in deep pain, he often looks a little nervous — seeing his therapist (Stephen McKinley Henderson). When her mom’s missed calls and voicemails show up on Beau’s phone, the flustered look on Beau’s face leaves no doubt as to the subject of their meeting. But when his therapist asked him how he felt about visiting his mother on the anniversary of his father’s death, Beau basically just muttered incoherently. That at least got him new drugs.
In one of the most masterful sequences, shot by Aster’s regular DP Pawel Pogorzelski, as a dizzying tracking sequence through streets filled with chaos and violence, Beau weaves He’s on his way back to his dilapidated apartment building in an unnamed city. Gun stalls sit alongside bauble booths and food trucks; locals dance, scream and fight, while news reports warn of a deranged homeless wandering the streets naked and stabbing strangers at will.
Things are equally calm inside Beau’s apartment, with the door notifying tenants of a brown recluse spider infestation. An irate neighbor pushes more and more hostile notes under his door, demanding that he turn off his music, even though it’s coming from a different apartment. But that friction might explain why his keys and luggage were stolen at the gate just as he was about to leave for the airport.
Beau calls his mom Mona to tell her that the obstacle is just an experience of the strained rapport between them (also evident in the flashback, Zoe Lister-Jones as young Mona and 14-year-old Beau by Armen Nahapetian). LuPone’s flat response is interrupted by a deafening silence, suggesting that Mona thinks Beau is just making up excuses not to visit.
The film documents the dogged determination of this broken man—whose adult life seemed to be one long, trembling retreat—to prove his mother wrong. He battles outside forces as well as those in his chaotic mind, which in Kaufmanesque fashion may all be part of the same thing.
One of the craziest obstacles came on the first night, when he was turned away and watched from a distance as a rowdy mob took over and trashed the place. Even when he regained possession and tried to decompress in a tepid bath, the danger remained, forcing him back on the streets and having a life-threatening accident.
From the city of hell, the film shifts to the seemingly peaceful suburbs where surgeon Roger (Nathan Lane) and his sympathetic wife Grace (Alyssa) Under the care of Miriam), Bo briefly experienced life in a loving family. He becomes the surrogate son of the couple, whose own son was killed in action, and their teenage daughter Tony (Kelly Rogers) who is a capricious pill. Roger agrees to drive Beau to his mother’s house, but the commitment is as short-lived as Beau’s sanctuary, especially since Jeeves (Dennis Menochet), a war veteran with PTSD, lives there. In a trailer in the couple’s yard.
When Beau flees the woods and stumbles upon a hippie forest troupe rehearsing a play, the scene changes again and becomes more psychedelic. He is invited to join them in their performance, which produces some of the most captivating sequences in the film. Beau finds and loses himself simultaneously in the action on stage, wandering in an alternate reality, a family life full of joy and heartbreak that might have been his, by Cristóbal León and the creative Chilean craftsman behind Joaquín Cociña Wolf House .
Crude reality — or unreality? – breaks the spell again, but Beau somehow escapes the new threat to his life and returns to his mother’s palatial home in Wasserton, the industrial magnate’s name.
In a movie full of thoughtful details, all for a reason, this house is an architectural marvel no less than Esther A hereditary set , whose walls are a shrine to Mona’s love for her only son. Beau’s desire to believe in love is amusingly played out by Bread’s 14 soft rock nugget “All I Have” Emphasis added.
But motherly love is far more complex than any upbeat pop song. The line between sacrifice and suffocation is thin, as is the line between filial piety and guilt. The less you know about the final stanza of this heady loop, the better, beyond that it contains quirky revelations about Beau’s father, throughout. Oh, and one of the most gonzo sex scenes in recent memory, set to Mariah Carey’s “Forever My Baby.”
The segment also has excellent performances, fearlessly confronting Astor’s nightmarish visions – Parker Posey as Mona’s employee and childhood sweetheart of Beau’s aborted cruise ship romance ; Richard Kind as Mona’s lawyer, who moves from vehement disapproval to harsh judgment; and most importantly, LuPone in all her magnificent, picturesque glory.
With a mouth suitable for a sneer and a voice suitable for sarcasm, Mona sets Beau straight up with strict terms about her highly conditional love, and the way he fails her by refusing them. This is the display of the Jewish maternal monster for years.
The movie has an ingenious cast, each performance finding its own uniqueness while cohesively fitting into the same deeply troubled unhinged universe . It includes hilarious work from Lane, Ryan, and Henderson, while Nahapetian does a good job of capturing the incapacitating horror of a kid on his way to becoming an adult in the basket, and Lister-Jones is hilarious as the controlling mother, Infusing creepy sexual innuendos into lines like, “I’m so proud of who you are.”
But Phoenix lets you feel the same way even in the film’s sometimes challenging feature length. Being able to stay glued, to be as totally, lunaticly involved in a performance as he ever was to give. If the character elicits more pity than emotional investment, it has more to do with the alienating effect of Aster’s surreal approach than anything Phoenix’s raw, open wounds to characterization lack. If you have mothering issues, watching Beau’s Homeric humiliation triggers them.
