In perhaps the most emotionally-painfully film of the year, Shia LaBeouf writes and stars in the reflective, autobiographical Honey Boy, directed by Alma Har'el's in her narrative feature directorial debut. A coming-of-age tale wrapped in a fascinating family drama that will profoundly affect audiences of all ages and backgrounds, Honey Boy is not an easy watch - but you absolutely won't regret it.
During a stint in rehab, Otis Lort (played by Lucas Hedges and, in his earlier years, Noah Jupe) reflects on the relationship he had with his father (LaBeouf), and how the abuse he suffered influenced his life and career. Soul-bearing, unflinching and an extremely challenging watch, Honey Boy explores the circular nature of abuse, the impact of trauma and its evolution over time in Alma Har'el's extraordinarily impressive feature.
Films are, in the most basic sense, designed to entertain audiences, but every now and then a film comes along whose intentions seem far deeper than that: while small and intimate in scope, Honey Boy is a wistful and soulful cathartic cinematic endeavour, for both the filmmakers channelling their pain into art as well as the audiences watching their heartfelt creations unfold on screen. Cut from the same cloth as the likes of Sean Baker's The Florida Project and Jonah Hill's Mid90s, with similarly hazy visuals and thematic musings in all, Honey Boy has to be one of the most carefully-observed, heartbreakingly-delivered yet stunningly-realised films of the decade.
Har'el's empathetic approach to LaBeouf's hard-hitting screenplay is a smart union that guarantees that the film's tricky content is balanced as carefully as possible without losing its authenticity or power; without Har'el's lush visual language (gorgeously enriched by Natasha Braier's cinematography), it could have been a spiteful film to watch, while less honesty from LaBeouf's uncompromising script would have removed the rawness that makes Honey Boy such a captivating experience throughout. It takes an obscene amount of courage to approach a film like Honey Boy and that it's executed so faultlessly - besides one sub-plot that weighs it down just slightly - is quite a feat.
Together, Har'el and LaBeouf have created something genuinely breathtaking: a harrowing ode to a childhood tarnished by trauma while still managing to imbue it with a tenderness and a small handful of brief, shining moments of brightness that ensure it isn't a completely dour picture. It really is one of the most brilliant writer-director pairings in some time. The film's stunning score enhances every emotional beat so beautifully, with Alex Somers responsible here for one of the finest soundtracks in some time.
A reliably solid, tortured performance from Lucas Hedges and a transformative yet surprisingly soulful turn from Shia LaBeouf give Honey Boy the support it needs to engage audiences with this rather upsetting feature. LaBeouf, especially, so carefully portrays James Lort as a flawed individual full of hate, but subtlety cracks the surfaces to reveal someone as equally pained beneath it; not once does it justify his difficult character faults, but it pushes the film's exploration of the cycle of abuse fantastically well and provides greater depth to the textured and thoughtful depictions found within the film.
Honey Boy's real star is Noah Jupe, though. In a beyond-his-years turn wrought with a complexity we haven't seen in a child actor since Jacob Tremblay's career-making role in Room, fourteen-year-old Jupe is astonishingly deft in everything from his smallest mannerisms to heart-rendering line delivery, capturing a childhood wonder at powerful odds with the harsh environment that surrounds him. There is one scene towards the end of the film that could destroy the hardest of hearts, with this emotionally-vulnerable moment standing alongside the greatest acting we have seen on our screens this year. A bad central performance could have soured Honey Boy entirely in spite of its other winning factors, but such immaculate work from Jupe ensures it is the very best version of itself.
Honey Boy has completely floored me. It's a difficult, sorrowful, gut-wrenching watch, but one that feels oddly, inexplicably rewarding: a therapeutic and cathartic piece as important to audiences as it is to its talent that have carefully created it. The pairing of Alma Har'el and Shia LaBeouf is a stroke of genius, with their tonally contrasting work complimenting the other's input and the overall vision of the film superbly, while Noah Jupe's astonishing lead performance will break your heart like few young actors could. You may have to search a little harder to seek this one out, but one of this year's best films is worthy of the effort.
9/10
Summary: Honey Boy is a soul-bearing and powerfully unflinching exploration of abuse and trauma that has Alma Har'el's luscious direction, Shia LaBeouf's soulful writing and Noah Jupe's astonishing performance combine to deliver an extraordinarily impressive feature that easily sits among the year's very best.