Beau Is Afraid Review: An Absurd and Anxiety-Inducing Odyssey Through Guilt and Grief

When filmmaker Ari Aster released his debut feature film Hereditary back in 2018, he was apprehensive about calling it a horror film or about calling himself a horror filmmaker. Even though the film features a disturbing premise and a number of viscerally unsettling sequences, there’s an undercurrent of pitch-black comedy running underneath it, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that his follow-up project, 2019’s Midsommar, brought those comedic sensibilities closer to the forefront, while still offering that humor within a horror-story formula. With Beau Is Afraid, Aster has arguably peaked, delivering a relentless onslaught of sequences so squirm-inducingly grim that you can’t help but laugh, confirming that attempts to define his work are entirely fruitless. Beau Is Afraid is sure to be Aster’s most divisive experience yet, as it’s an audacious and mind-bending journey into the anxiety-riddled mind of its titular character, delivering an endless barrage of discomfort and despair for its three-hour run time. 

The movie’s opening minutes confirm its title, as we learn that Beau (Joaquin Phoenix) really is afraid of just about everything. One of his biggest worries is disappointing his mother, so when he has plans to visit her on the anniversary of his father’s death, he’s concerned about making any false step that could irritate her. When a hurdle involving a set of keys causes a delay in his trip, tragedy strikes and Beau embarks on an exhausting marathon to get back to his hometown, with all of his worst fears manifesting at every turn.

While Aster might have been apprehensive about defining his works too strictly, he himself described Beau Is Afraid as being a “nightmare comedy,” and it’s hard to deny how effectively he boiled down the entire experience of the movie into two words. To put it in terms that Aster fans will recognize, Beau Is Afraid feels like the dinner scene in Hereditary that kicks off with the simple, “Are you okay, mom?” that is expressed through the tone of the last 30 minutes of Midsommar, as the characters endure drug-fueled hallucinations featuring sex and ritual sacrifice. For a more complex analysis of what Aster is doing with the movie, there’s a lot more to unpack, and Aster’s own therapist might be the only one close enough to give concrete answers. 

In addition to the first few minutes confirming how Beau’s relationship with his mother is toxic and codependent, the heightened tone of this world is quickly and concisely displayed in those opening scenes. Walking home from his therapist, Beau steps over dead bodies, witnesses street vendors selling assault rifles, and encounters tattooed men attempting to kill him. It’s a world so bizarre and frightening that audiences can’t help but laugh, no matter how much Beau might fear for his life. Establishing this heightened tone of a world that runs parallel to our own reality allows virtually anything to happen and our characters won’t bat an eye. Much like how filmmakers like Wes Anderson or Tim Burton will spare no expense to transport audiences to whimsically quirky and fantastical worlds, every square inch of Beau’s world is filled with characters, news reports, and even advertisements that seem specifically designed to make his life a living Hell. 

Phoenix previously won an Oscar for his work in 2019’s Joker, and while audiences have had divisive reactions to that film as a whole, the actor’s performance has earned near-unanimous praise. The dismissals of that movie ultimately carry over into Phoenix, especially with a sequel on the way, though Beau Is Afraid serves as yet another reminder of what a powerhouse performer he always has been, no matter what project he immerses himself in. Projects like You Were Never Really Here allowed him to showcase just how much he could convey with relatively little dialogue, but while his character in that film showcased a quiet intensity, Beau feels like a complete converse, as he is frightened by nearly everything he encounters. Amplifying Phoenix’s quiet and forlorn performance are costars like Amy Ryan, Nathan Lane, Parker Posey, and Patti LuPone, as they serve as the perfect foils to help trigger Beau’s internalization of the worrying thoughts he experiences throughout the entire movie.

Even with the surreal tone, there are a lot of very real and very heavy themes that are being explored in the film, largely centered around guilt. An early phone call Beau has with his mother shows him attempting to relay the obstacles he’s encountered on his way to visit her, with every single response he gets driving him deeper into his inner turmoil, implying that the only thing actually standing in Beau’s way is Beau himself. In some regards, this is entirely true, because if Beau was less worried about other people’s opinions, he would know the situation wasn’t his fault. Even if he were to take ownership over his own journey, though, any viewer can relate to a relationship they have in their life that motivates their decisions, not out of a passion to make that person happy, but out of the fear of making someone upset. Whether it’s a friend, family member, romantic partner, or coworker, the overall experience of Beau Is Afraid at least attempts to showcase the absurdity of living a life defined by other people’s expectations instead of by your own needs. We hope no one has as toxic of a relationship as Beau has with his mother, but people will be able to relate to this theme to at least some degree, making for a therapeutic viewing experience.

Beau serves as the example of what would happen if your superego was given complete charge of every decision in your life, constantly wondering what is the “right” thing to do to make everyone happy, regardless of how it impacts you, which also results in the film being such an effective depiction of living with anxiety.

Whether you have an anxiety disorder or merely deal with it in high-pressure situations, one of the most common descriptions is the idea of worrying about the potential outcome of every decision, thought, or action. Those potential emotions could be fear, sadness, shame, or any other emotion that could come with any modicum of negativity. When you focus this much on how your anxiety tells you that each and every one of those negative things will happen, your brain and body prepare themselves (often unnecessarily) for the fallout of those decisions. Beau Is Afraid is, in a sense, an experiment in what would happen if every one of Beau’s worries came true, from upsetting his mother to irritating his neighbor to not having the money to buy a bottle of water. For audiences who suffer from anxiety or those who struggle to empathize with it, Beau Is Afraid marks an impressive depiction of these concepts, confirming both how absurd it is to think all of your worst fears would really come true while also conveying to those who don’t suffer with it what it’s like to endure such thoughts.

Much like Hereditary and Midsommar, Beau Is Afraid is another partnership between Aster and studio A24. In the age of movie fans tearing each other to shreds over the formulaic bombast of a superhero movie and the latest incident of an iconic auteur expressing that they just don’t like them versus the pretentious snobbery of studios that release “films” and not “movies,” as they don’t deliver “scary movies” and instead offer “elevated horror,” Beau Is Afraid is sure to become the target of backlash in regards to pompousness. Aster is fully digging his heels in with the kinds of movies he wants to make and, much like how critical darling Damien Chazelle recently experienced with his opus Babylon, not all viewers will be along for the ride. It is shocking to think that a film this abrasive and brash will be landing on thousands of screens and that some audiences will wander in with the idea of, “It’s that guy from Joker in a movie by that guy who did Hereditary,” only for their minds to be blown and shredded for 180 minutes, especially when a new Marvel Studios movie is about to hit theaters in two weeks.

While A24 has earned cult-like devotion from cinephiles and the Letterboxd crowd, neither they nor Aster are infallible. Beau Is Afraid does manage to largely keep its narrative momentum moving forward, to the point that you don’t realize you’re experiencing something with a run time akin to an entry into The Lord of the Rings franchise, but some sequences do stumble. The movie might be Aster’s masterpiece, but that’s not to say it is objectively a masterpiece, as the humor doesn’t always land, some sequences feel overlong or unnecessary, and some of the metaphors are messy or undercooked, as if they were thrown in just for the sake of it as opposed to the various other metaphors that feel nuanced and earned. Still, to pack this much anxiety into an experience with such a long run time and still manage to succeed more than fail is an impressive feat.

There’s arguably no more visceral, cathartic, or challenging cinematic genre than horror or comedy, as every viewer’s lived-in experiences directly tie into the subjective experience of both. What’s frightening to one audience member is cheesy to another, while what’s gut-busting to one is groan-worthy to another. Aster’s films have never been for everybody, but by delivering a more abject blend of both horror and humor, it will be apparent to any audience member within the first ten minutes whether they’ll buy into the experience and be along for the ride. As well as establishing himself as an auteur in his own right, Beau Is Afraid also feels like a tribute to Aster’s favorite things, from surrealists like Alejandro Jodorowsky to David Lynch to Gaspar Noé, while also showcasing his darkly comic sensibilities akin to Todd Solondz or Charlie Kaufman. Beau Is Afraid is not a film for everyone, but for the people who can buy into the outlandishness and absurdity, it makes for an effective meditation on more emotional themes, reminding us that it’s both entirely normal and entirely silly to be as afraid of everything as Beau is. 

Rating: 4 out of 5

Beau Is Afraid hits theaters on April 21st.