TIFF Film Review: Honey Boy is raw and emotionally honest

Honey Boy brings empathy and catharsis to an emotionally charged father-son relationship with star turns from Lucas Hedges, Shia LaBeouf, and Noah Jupe.

Honey Boy is an intensely personal project, but it feels like so much more than just a biographical film. For star Shia LaBeouf, writing about his own childhood, it’s an unburdening of his very soul. Through the story of Otis Lort, a former child actor now in court-mandated rehab, LaBeouf comes to grips with his relationship with his father. There are few films that feel so much like a therapy session, and it’s undeniably cathartic.

If you grew up in the 1990s and early 2000s, chances are that LaBeouf, charming teen star of Even Stevens and Holes, felt like someone you knew. He was your wacky cousin who was always getting into trouble, but somehow managed to talk his way out of it. Someone who would do anything for a laugh, regardless of the consequences. And for a while, his transition into an adult career seemed to be going well. But then there’s the drinking, the arrests, the erratic behavior. What’s going on with this guy?

“My dad’s not the reason I drink. He’s the reason I work,” Otis – played by an intense and commanding Lucas Hedges – says defensively to his therapist.

But it’s clear that he’s either kidding himself or is too close to the situation to see it for what it is. Relationships, especially emotionally wrought ones with parents, are difficult to get clarity on, and it can be exhausting to analyze every single memory. Was this abusive? Did this cross a line? Do these moments negate the more positive ones? Is this line of inquiry even helpful?

It’s really sad to watch this story split between 1998 and 2005. In 2005, the damage has already been done, and Otis has to unlearn a lifetime of self-destructive behavior. But as a child actor, bright and clever and deeply empathetic, he’s pure, uncorrupted potential.

Noah Jupe as young Otis puts in a staggeringly mature performance that you can’t tear your eyes away from. You can feel him burning on camera, desperate for approval from his father while at the same time fully aware that even as a child, he is the caretaker.

He’s so angry with his father and exhausted by his antics, but one kind word from the old man has him beaming with joy. He wants the unconditional love that a child should be able to expect from a parent, but whatever his father feels, he’s incapable of expressing it. What’s more, he knows the power he has to build Otis up or tear him down. Alternately abusive and loving, his particular brand of parenting is akin to emotional whiplash. Otis walks on eggshells around his father, expending so much mental energy fruitlessly trying to avoid setting him off.

Jupe’s on-screen chemistry with LaBeouf is magic. There’s so much trust between the two of them, and LaBeouf is a revelation as James Ort, a version of the father he knows all too well. He’s a smooth talker, a guy who loves nothing more than having an audience to entertain, but he can’t but be defined by his quick temper and deeply held insecurities. Most parents want to see their children succeed, but there’s resentment and a barely suppressed rage as James watches his son seemingly effortlessly outstrip his father’s career. Still, LaBeouf treats him gently with an empathy that doesn’t necessarily absolve him of his behavior but is generous in its understanding of why he is the way he is.

Honey Boy is a remarkable directorial debut from Alma Har’el, who has such a unique sense of empathy for all of the characters and imbues the film with an energy that is equal parts manic and melancholic.

A story of strength in vulnerability, Honey Boy will linger in the mind of the viewer long after the film ends.