“Our Hero, Balthazar” contains many topical themes of the current cultural zeitgeist that could each command (and have already) their own separate narrative features. There’s America’s continued fascination with gun culture and how a collective of representatives and companies profit off of school readiness instead of endorsing prohibitive measures. The incentivization of social media to participate in a movement or evoke sympathy, despite not having a genuine connection to the event. Finally, the “male loneliness epidemic” and how that informs finding comfort in extremist rhetoric. First-time director Oscar Boyson tackles all of these points in a darkly comedic, yet poignant manner that handles its subjects seriously.
Balthazar or Balthy for short (Jaeden Martell) has it all, living in a high-rise penthouse in New York – or does he? His mother (Jennifer Ehle) loves him, but is always too busy and taken by a potential romance with a senatorial candidate (David M. Raine). He’s a bit emotionally stunted; abandoned by his father, who serves nothing more than a human bankroll– but at least Balthy has a life coach (Noah Centineo) (a person who recognizes he can use the family as an ATM). Where’s a teenage boy to turn to? In his spare time, Balthy cuts “crying” videos on his social accounts to get people to sympathize with him. That roaring pastime is thrown for a loop when he starts to like a girl named Eleanor (Pippa Knowles) – a person of principle looking to solve the epidemic of school shootings. Balthy thinks this is a connecting point, but he’s too stilted personality-wise to care about her cause.
Our Hero, Balthazar / Photo Credit: Tribeca Festival
It justifiably weirds her out, but Balthy has a plan. He’s going to befriend a school shooter to become the hero in stopping them. This leads the ultra-wealthy and sheltered teenager to Texas to meet Solomon (Asa Butterfield), a southern young man with his own familial issues to overcome. He has very little money, lives in a trailer with his grandmother, and is also somewhat awkward in his interactions with women. You would think that Balthy and Solomon are kindred spirits from different planes of existence who are destined to be friends. But Boyson and Ricky Camilleri’s story commands the audience to look more closely into the class dynamics between the two characters. Martell plays his Balthy with an air of arrogance, but is curious enough to see where there might be an emotional breakthrough from another perspective. There’s always a transactional unlikability peaking through his facade, even at his most vulnerable state.
Butterfield is given a bit more character ground to work with in Solomon.“Our Hero, Balthazar” gives him a subplot involving his estranged father (Chris Bauer), who hawks a placebo testosterone supplement to anyone “who doesn’t feel in charge” of their lives. It’s a physical embodiment of manosphere culture that only adds to the sharp satire Boyson is getting at. Ironically, Balthy’s faux proposition to impede a school shooting from happening ends up enticing him with Solomon’s gun collection. A considerable shift happens where you realize the person Solomon is portraying is something he’s not actually ready to be. On the other hand, Balthy then takes a piece of who Solomon portrays himself to be and adds it to his already fragile personality.
The film’s mission statement is not completely revelatory, hammering the dangers of gun fetishization, the internet, and men not having role models to look up to. Boyson jokes at these parables without making a mockery out of them and uses the more shocking imagery not to hammer a message home, but to give you something weighty to ponder. At one point, Eleanor questions Balthazar about his videos, and he replies, “I think it’s nice to be part of a community.” The title of the film cleverly suggests that empathy and understanding are gamified to a point where inclusion favors those who know how to exploit the weary and worn.
“Our Hero, Balthazar” premiered at 2025 Tribeca Festival.
