The protagonist of “Our Hero, Balthazar” is not typically thought of as heroic, yet he seems to embody the spirit of our modern times. Portrayed by Jaeden Martell with a cool demeanor and a puppy-like scowl, Balthazar is a wealthy New York youth who has a life coach and a mother (Jennifer Ehle) often preoccupied with hosting political parties, leaving him largely ignored. They reside in a Manhattan apartment adorned with pricey art, where Balthazar, affectionately known as Balthy, expresses his ennui by filming and sharing videos of himself pretending to cry in the most heartfelt and authentic-seeming manner. He can weep about anything, sympathizing with any suffering soul. (The story primarily revolves around victims of a school shooting.) However, as we witness during his multiple takes, the tears are feigned. In truth, they are genuine – real sobs, real snot streaming from his nose – but they stem from an entirely fabricated place. He is performing the depth of his empathy.
Today’s youth are known to express deep emotions through tears in a way never seen before. Unlike previous generations, kids today often share videos of themselves crying over various reasons, from Taylor Swift purchasing her master tapes to countless other triggers. Crying, once considered an outpouring of genuine feelings, has morphed into a spectacle – a demonstration of one’s emotional depth and perhaps even a competition for who experiences the most intense feelings. The short film “Our Hero, Balthazar” encapsulates how crying has become integrated into an online realm where everything is performance-based. In expressing my profound empathy through tears, I validate my identity.
The first film directed by Oscar Boyson, “Our Hero, Balthazar,” showcases his close relationship with Benny and Josh Safdie (having worked as a producer on “Uncut Gems” and “Good Time”). This movie, like the Safdies’ work, carries an edge-of-your-seat excitement. It is sharp, bold, and at times, breathtakingly surprising. However, what sets it apart is that Boyson, in collaboration with Ricky Camilleri on the script, seems to have tapped into a unique idea: how today’s disoriented middle-class youth culture has shifted its values from authenticity to exhibitionism – or, perhaps more accurately, made exhibitionism their new reality.
Previously, the ability to shed tears on screen was often seen as a sign of an actor’s talent, but Jaeden Martell, renowned for his roles in “It” films and “Knives Out,” goes beyond mere crying. As Balthy, he cries in a unique manner – raw and torn, reflecting an unspoken hurt that he feels deeply yet can’t express, a pain he senses is shared by many others. They seem to be connected, like members of a secret cult, bound by a sorrow too profound to be named aloud. The fact that Balthazar can evoke such emotions so convincingly, as if it were his personal acting method, is both unsettling and strangely relatable. The film seems to pose the question: If such depth of emotion isn’t real, then what truly is?
In Balthy’s private high school, a consultancy firm conducts an exercise with his class, simulating protective measures against a potential school shooting – a modern adaptation of the ’50s “duck-and-cover” drills, which some find unsettling due to its fear-inducing nature. The scene even includes the students lying down on the floor, symbolically representing bullet wound victims. However, this situation provides Balthy with an opportunity to interact with Eleanor, a girl he has feelings for, who boldly criticizes the trainers for their insensitive methods. Yet, when she discovers Balthy’s fake crying videos at his residence, she confronts him, labeling him as “crazy.” Pippa Knowles delivers Eleanor with a captivating blend of playful sarcasm that commands attention. Her on-screen presence, marked by an aura of raw, spirited sanity, suggests a promising future in acting.
Balthazar, who always saw chances for personal gain, shared a tearful video expressing sympathy towards the victims of a school shooting in Arkansas City. He received numerous comments, one of which was from an account named “deathdealer_16,” who declared themselves to be a school shooter. However, it’s important to note that such individuals rarely escape or avoid capture after a shooting. Balthazar began conversing with this alleged individual and convinced himself he was preventing another tragedy. But is this truly his intention? Or could it be that this adept manipulator of emotions secretly feels a twisted connection, viewing the other as a dark companion of sorts?
The film revolves around the protagonist’s journey to Fort Worth, Texas, where he encounters his estranged companion, Solomon – a troubled young man in his twenties, portrayed by Asa Butterfield. This movie evolves into an unconventional buddy tale: “The Misunderstood and the Isolated.” The compelling aspect lies in Asa Butterfield’s performance, which skillfully combines a rough exterior masking a profound sadness that reveals the depth of Solomon’s struggles. Despite his antisocial behavior, such as getting fired for harassing his female coworker at a roadside store, Butterfield, known for his role in Scorsese’s “Hugo,” manages to elicit sympathy by revealing the character’s pain and sorrow.
In a turn of events, Solomon’s distant, tough-guy father (Chris Bauer) peddles macho health products and manipulates Solomon into joining his sales team. Simultaneously, Solomon leads Balthy into the allure of gun culture, causing the narrative to lean somewhat heavily on contemporary themes. However, Boyson skillfully captures these events in a raw, realistic style that focuses on the central relationship. Is Solomon truly a potential school shooter? No, but he fantasizes about becoming one. Meanwhile, Balthy imagines caring for victims of such tragedies. Essentially, they embody extreme manifestations of a youth culture gone astray in today’s digital age.
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2025-06-10 06:47