Content Warnings: Gun-based violence, school shootings

In a year still yet to land on a distinct cinematic identity or cultural sensation, a peculiar new subgenre has awoken the beast of discourse from its slumber. Screening as a part of Brunswick Underground Film Festival’s second iteration, Our Hero, Balthazar was described by festival coordinator Felix Hubble in its pre-show reel as a “school shooting comedy”. While this label initially appeared oxymoronic, Our Hero, Balthazar seemed entirely conscious of its innate contradictions, resulting in the film’s unique tonal identity. 

About a month ago, the rom-com-meets-cynical-satire The Drama, starring Robert Pattinson and Zendaya, hit cinemas. The film, which followed the personal crisis surrounding Zendaya’s character after admitting she almost orchestrated a school shooting in her youth, set the internet ablaze. This subject had never before been approached with such levity in the mainstream—the tragedies of school shootings are usually relegated to documentary treatments or breaking news. Director Kristoffer Borgli offered up a nuanced perspective on the subject that many cinemagoers didn’t quite know what to do with. Despite this, it was generally agreed upon that The Drama handled its subject matter with grace and delicacy. Our Hero, Balthazar asks what would happen if this topic was left in less responsible hands. For better or for worse, the film does answer this quandary—that is after a festival volunteer accidentally skipped straight to its credits when trying to start playback.

The film follows the eponymous high schooler Balthazar—or “Balthie”, as he insists on being called—as he embarks upon a destructive spiral of activism in a misguided attempt to impress Eleanor, a politically-minded girl in his class. The film’s central relationship is not between our protagonist and his paramour, however, as much of the action follows Balthazar across the United States to convince an anonymous pen pal not to follow through with threats of a school shooting. He develops an unorthodox bond with the shooter, Solomon, whose own insecurities and violent impulses intersect harmoniously with Balthazar’s narcissism and bravado. Together, they make for a cinematic duo unlike anything you’ve seen before. 

Much of the discourse surrounding The Drama—which would also hound Our Hero, Balthazar if the film was seen on any kind of similar scale—questioned the political agenda its filmmakers were approaching their work with. Our Hero, Balthazar appears to feign neutrality, poking fun at both the toxic masculinity embodied by Solomon and the liberal weakness exemplified by Balthazar. The two characters are ideologically and geographically opposite—they come from opposite sides of the political spectrum, and Balthazar flies from a sprawling New York penthouse in order to confront Solomon in his dingy Houston trailer. While it becomes evident that the film condemns the accessibility of firearms in the United States through its continued humiliation of Solomon, what its oppositionary stance actually is remains quite unclear. There is no unambiguous good that emerges across its runtime, and there is no substantial representation of liberal politics—Balthazar, of course, isn’t actually the activist he claims to be. The absence of a symbol representing true social liberalism is perhaps director Oscar Boyson’s thesis with his debut feature, arguing that the relative invisibility and ineffectiveness of democratic lawmakers in the United States ultimately works to further perpetuate gun-based violence. 

Tonally, Boyson provides viewers with an unsteady path, the director having not yet found a distinct voice of his own and instead drawing on oppositionary tenets of his previous collaborators. Notwithstanding the shaky foundations that Our Hero, Balthazar is built upon, the director still asserts himself as a distinct comedic voice, his actors’ performances feel natural and the film’s dialogue effectively toes the line between humorous and insensitive. It is in the film’s drama, however, where Boyson struggles to get to the finish line, with the darker moments feeling unjustified and not depicted in an especially meaningful fashion. 

Boyson boasted a peculiar resumé leading up to this point, having co-produced early Baumbach/Gerwig collaborations Frances Ha and Mistress America and also serving as a producer for the Safdie brothers on Good Time and Uncut Gems. This intersection of American filmmaking explains Boyson’s tonal inconsistencies with Our Hero, Balthazar, as influences from both parties are clearly evident in the project. Baumbach’s penchant just-adjacent-enough-to-the-mainstream-to-stay-reputable brand of coming-of-age filmmaking pervades the fabric of Our Hero, Balthazar—the protagonist spends the first half of the film acting with such irrationality that it appears impossible to the viewer that he wouldn’t end up atoning for his actions. By the time the credits roll, however, it becomes clear that Boyson was more directly influenced by his more recent work with the Safdies, as the film resolves in a fashion that isn’t especially satisfying, instead opting to hammer down on its central conflict in a maximalist, applause-inducing fashion.

Luckily for Boyson, the cast of Our Hero, Balthazar manages to jubilantly accompany viewers through the film’s highs and brush past its lows with ease. Jaeden Martell—of Knives Out and It—plays our titular character, and his performance is perfectly conceived. His knack for character work is evident from his previous roles, but Balthazar provided something deeper for the actor to bite into in what is one of his first lead characters. His comedic timing stands out and lights up scenes, enlivening jokes with awkward charisma. His foil, Solomon, is portrayed by Sex Education’s Asa Butterfield, who is utterly unrecognisable in this role. Having often opted for British characters in the past, seeing Butterfield don a neck beard and a thick southern accent was certainly jarring, but the actor did so with such effortless skill that any initial hesitance was swiftly dissolved. Butterfield expertly conveys the layers of his character—some of which seem like the actor envisioned himself—and makes Solomon more than a caricature of the right-wing. The actor is careful not to diminish the very real and harmful nature of his character through his comedic moments, instead letting humour coexist with a distinct violent energy carried in his movements.

Our Hero, Balthazar checks all the boxes of a promising debut feature. Boyson is clearly a skilled filmmaker with a distinct vision for his future filmography, which he certainly lays the groundwork for in this film. Where he falters is in the clarity of his perspective and, as a consequence, the justification of his drama, undercutting the effectiveness of his work and rendering it somewhat politically ambiguous. Having graduated from working with America’s great filmmakers to trying to become one himself, hopefully Boyson is able to hone his thematic concerns and deliver something greater with his sophomore effort.