Shia LaBeouf plays his own abusive father in Honey Boy, which is a semi-autobiographical film about his time as a child actor and in rehab
One-sentence review: Honey Boy sees Shia LeBeouf grappling with his past in a highly personal and emotionally devastating drama.
Details: ? Alma Har’el // ⏳ 93 minutes // ? 2019
The cast: Shia LeBeouf, Lucas Hedges, Noah Jupe, FKA Twigs
Where to watch Honey Boy: In theaters November 8th.
Anyone who’s done therapy knows that it’s an often frustrating and confusing process that is without a doubt the most rewarding thing you could do for yourself. And that’s what’s fascinating about Honey Boy. Shia Lebouf wrote the movie as a semi-autobiographical telling of his life as a child actor and his very high-profile struggles with addiction a decade later. However, the movie isn’t really a narrative. Like therapy, the screenplay is more of an exploration. LeBeouf is using the movie to understand what he went through. He even plays his own father in the film.
Honey Boy deals with LeBeouf’s past in two different times
Honey Boy is split into two timelines: 1995 and 2005. In 2005, we meet Otis Lort (Lucas Hedges) as he’s filming a scene that looks like it was pulled straight out of a Michael Bay movie — you know which one. Then in a breezy montage, we see all the things he did to land himself in rehab. There, his therapist (Laura San Giacomo) asks him to recall his relationship with his father, which she uncovers caused Otis to have PTSD. In real life, the incident that landed him in rehab happened in 2017, which is also where he wrote the screenplay for the film.
In 1995, he’s filming a scene for an unspecified children’s TV show — you know which one. His father James (a nearly unrecognizable LeBeouf) — a former rodeo clown — is his paid chaperone who he also lives with at a seedy motel crawling with unsavory characters. There we explore their often turbulent relationship. James himself is plagued by PTSD from serving in the army and is a recovering alcoholic who is acutely aware that without his son, he’d been in even worse shape. At one point, the two argue about how it must feel for him to work for his son. Otis shoots back, “if I didn’t pay you, you wouldn’t be here.”
The flashback scenes are so interesting because they’re presented in the way that someone would approach trauma in therapy. Each scene is so clear, but also inconsistent and sometimes erratic. It feels like we go over the same argument multiple times, which is a frustrating experience at first. But when you take into account that those scenes are the older Otis processing what happened to him, then it makes complete sense. After all, James was verbally and physically abusive towards him. He was terrified and confused, so the memories are probably blurred.
LeBeouf gives the best performance of his career and deserves to be in the Oscar conversation
It also helps that LeBeouf gives a powerhouse performance — a classic Best Supporting Actor turn — that is as complex as the thoughts and feelings he must have been working through. James isn’t completely vilified. However, he isn’t completely redeemed either. Otis doesn’t make it out unscathed either. The movie isn’t interested in justifying his behavior more than it is in explaining it.
Admittedly, though, as good as Hedges is, the 2005 scenes don’t work nearly as well as the flashbacks. Director Alma Har’el — she’s directed documentaries in the past, but Honey Boy is her first narrative feature — has a clear vision for the scenes surrounding the young Otis. Like her documentary work, the scenes are impressionistic and ethereal — the score is twinkling and the cinematography warm or neon splashed. It’s fitting then that singer-songwriter FKA Twigs plays a large role as a resident of the motel who befriends Otis.
The movie ends up being a little more than the sum of its parts. The lack of a plot is both refreshing and frustrating. At some points, I wished something more substantial would happen — maybe nothing did in real-life. However, that doesn’t take away from the fact that this is highly personal meditation on one’s life. One that you can feel the catharsis of. By the end, you can feel LeBeouf exhaling and accepting his past for what it is. It’s chilling to see.
Hey, I'm Karl, founder and film critic at Smash Cut. I started Smash Cut in 2014 to share my love of movies and give a perspective I haven't yet seen represented. I'm also an editor at The New York Times, a Rotten Tomatoes-approved critic, and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.