Review of Our Hero Balthazar – A darkly comedic satire of incel culture and gun violence | film

‘I “I think it’s good to be part of a community,” is how rich Manhattan boy Balthazar (Jaeden Martell) justifies his favorite pastime: posting tear-soaked videos in which he sociopathically pretends to be one of a crowd of young Americans lamenting the nationwide epidemic of gun violence. Oscar Boyson, the longtime producer of the Safdie brothers, brings this kind of apocalyptic attitude — not just in school shootings, but also in social media, self-help, and vendor cultures in the United States—in this raucous, hard-hitting black comedy reminiscent of the take-no-prisoners libertarian cynicism of Jason Reitman’s early films.

Balthazar tries to impress his lover Eleanor (Pippa Knowles), with whom he enthusiastically plays the victim in a school shooting drill. After blowing his chance by trying to go out with her while raw footage of the recent massacre was shown, he upped his game. Preventing the next bloodbath would truly prove his commitment to the cause, and the troll named Deathdealer_16, who had been provoking him in his chat, looked like he was ready to blow him up. Balthazar traps him by posing as a beautiful virgin online, and sets up an IRL date.

Deathdealer_16 turns out to be Solomon (Asa Butterfield), a Texan who lives in a trailer with his grandmother, and no one is happy to see Balthazar. But a friendship develops between the two, as Balthazar is on the shooting range, and Solomon is eager to prove to The New Yorker that there is more to him than just fooling around. By striking a gay tone (“Wait and see the rest of what I pack,” says Solomon after revealing his glove box pistol), the film is at its strongest illustrative of this uneasy codependency. It’s a film that’s a parody of the mutual incomprehension and fascination between liberal America and the red state, suggesting that surrender to gun violence and its glorification are not far apart.

Elsewhere, Poisson’s satire can be a bit stark, as with the Magnolia-style motivational rallies run by Solomon’s silver-backed father (Chris Bauer), and the over-the-top publicity of the sheer number of goals. It’s not without a good, weird joke, like Balthazar cloning his mother’s voice to dirty chat Solomon, who sends phallic pictures to his porn star father in return.

The film strives for a suitably catastrophic climax, and the focus is too much on the film. This is good news for Butterfield, who shows his range in going from vulgar unhappiness to good boy status, but less so for Martell, who is equally impressive in his prosperity. The two make an endearing duo: a bipartisan declaration of American ineptitude.