BEAU IS AFRAID: He Lives in a Constant Reel of Dissociated (Terrifying) Feelings

Beau is Afraid in Ari Aster‘s psychologically complex horror film. He has good reasons to be afraid. Beau has a (very) scary mom. He’s frightened of making the “wrong” move or saying the “wrong” thing. He lives in a constant reel of dissociated (terrifying) feelings. Mostly, his rage. Beau has no choice but to project his aggression, and this makes the world a crazy, violent place. Beau is Afraid. He’s meek, passive, and oh-too-apologetic.

Beau’s Horrific Mom Trauma

Beau (Joaquin Phoenix) came into the world to his mom screaming her head off (Of course, Beau is Afraid.) Mona’s (Patti LuPone) screams have not stopped. Usually, that scream is a cold, hissing, displeasure at him. A silent scream that permeates Beau’s every waking moment. Because if he hasn’t already hurt Mona by never being devoted enough (as loyal as he is), Beau’s frozen in fear of it. Beau is (always) Afraid.

Watchful. Careful. Trying to do the right thing (for Mona, that is), Beau’s as quiet as a mouse, even though notes under his door threaten and accuse him of being too loud. Not Beau. He can’t let Mona see he has feelings and thoughts. Mona won’t allow anything that doesn’t involve her or put her first. Beau buries his feelings, and they turn into awful visions out in the world.

Beau is hers. She owns him. He must love her. To make up for the fact that Mona’s mom didn’t. That crushed her as a child, and she turns vindictive when Beau fails to meet her love “standards.”

Yes, Beau became her mother. Any time Beau doesn’t measure up, or Mona thinks he’s rejecting her (or that he lied about his keys being stolen, not to come home), her hurt turns to rage. She becomes cold and calculating to a T. No one says “No” to Mona. No one does. Hence, later we discover that the decapitated body of Mona (her vindictive scheme to make Beau believe she died when he didn’t make the plane) is Martha, the family housekeeper. Bought and sold. When Beau finally arrives at the funeral, he sees a headless Martha in the coffin, not Mom.

So, where’s Mona? Oh, she’s around. You think she’d give up the pleasure of tormenting Beau?

A Voice says: “You’re Fucked, Pal…”

A note under his door says, “You’re fucked, pal.” But in the paranoid world of Beau Wasserman, it’s a voice in his head. Mona’s guilting voice. Beau is Afraid. He’s trying to get home for his father’s death day. He is. Someone really stole his keys. And, he’s terrified to go to the airport and leave the door unlocked. Meaning, he’s afraid to let down his guard anywhere near Mona. Yet, he’s fucked either way.

 Beau is Afraid. He calls his mom: “What should I do?” She’s unsympathetic, silent, cold, giving him nothing: “I’m sure you’ll find the right thing to do.” “What’s … what’s the right thing for you?” Mona hangs up. Now, Beau knows he’s fucked, just like the voice said. He’s so anxious, he takes his pills. The warning says, “Don’t take without water.” There’s no water. Beau’s sure he’s dying. The therapist doesn’t answer. He races to the market. Drinks a bottle of water. Fast. Mona has cut off his credit card. The shopkeeper threatens to call the police if Beau doesn’t pay up; more guilt.

Home, there’s a dead man at his door. As dead as Beau will be if he doesn’t get home. Beau is Afraid. He cleans up his ravaged apartment and tries to book a flight. He has to get to his mom. Or he’ll be deader than he already is … so, Beau calls Mona again. A freaking- out UPS (Bill Hader) man answers (as emotional as Beau isn’t). Panicked, he tells Beau about a woman’s severed head: “I didn’t do this, I swear.” He’s the guilty part of Beau. The terrified-of-being-blamed part of Beau.

The part that wishes his mom dead, and can’t let that enter his mind.

Beau Doesn’t Wish His Mom Dead (Does He?)

Hating Mona would make sense. But Beau is Afraid: of her venom, rejection, retaliation, coldness, and herhate. Beau needs his mom. So, he must cater to her and feel nothing.

The UPS man reads her license. “Mona Wasserman. Is that your mom?” The bathtub overflows; all the tears Beau cannot cry. Beau is Afraid. He’s afraid of his feelings. Rage and sadness. He lowers himself into his bath, clutching a small white statue of the Madonna and child. A statuette that’s always with him. The wished-for adoring look of a mom is not what Beau gets.

He looks at the photo of his mom holding him as a baby, but not closely. At arms-length. Always kept at a distance, in her cold disappointment at how he “hurts her.” She’s dead? He shakes, but no feeling comes out. A man has intruded. He’s near the ceiling. Clinging to the wall. He’ll fall on Beau in a moment. The man is crying. Sobbing. Beau is Afraid. The man falls, and they struggle. The man is Beau’s sadness. Sadness is one feeling Beau fights. No sadness for Beau. Not yet. Anger? Rage? Aggression? The same story. His therapist (Stephen McKinley Henderson) (who, it turns out, works for Mona too) asks him if he ever wishes his mom dead. “No. never. Why would I think that? No!”

Mona, an entrepreneur and wealthy businesswoman, owns everyone she pays. She insists. Like her outgoing message: This is Mona. Leave me a message if you ever want to talk to me again.”

Why wouldn’t Beau hate a mom like that? Hate is a normal feeling – but too scary. Beau is as mild-mannered as they come. He apologizes for existing. Beau couldn’t hurt a flea.

But everyone hurts Beau. He thinks it’s his fault. Beau is Afraid.

Beau Runs in Terror from His Feelings  

He runs naked into the street, away from the crying man in the bathtub. Beau’s been running from feelings his entire life. This makes him project his feelings, outside himself, into other people and hallucinations. The crying part of him in the bathtub triggers terror. He can’t feel his lifelong overwhelming grief. On the street, a naked old man yells, “Fuck you. Fuck you.” Beau knows he’s fucked if he exposes his feelings to himself (and especially to Mona.)

Frantically trying to flee his terror, his Madonna and child statuette is clutched in his hand. A terrified Policeman (a stand-in for the terror Beau cannot let himself feel) shouts: “Freeze. Freeze. Drop the weapon.” (Is the statuette a weapon?) It is, of sorts: a talisman against the dangers of hating Mona. In his conscious mind, Mona must be the perfect Madonna-mother. But other feelings threaten to emerge. Beau is Afraid. Beau is frozen in fear.

Deep inside, where he can’t know it, he’s afraid he killed Mona because he didn’t make it home. Beau is Afraid of the confused mixture of feelings inside him: sadness, relief she’s dead; fear of being alone. Doing his utmost to escape these feelings, Beau is hit by a car. Next thing he knows, he’s in a child’s room with an IV and a hospital gown, being tended to by Grace (Amy Ryan) and her surgeon husband, Roger (Nathan Lane). Grace’s car hit him. She feels responsible. Grace lost her son in action. She seems like the mom Beau always wished for: doting, caring, gentle, warm (?).

Not so fast. This is too good to be true. Right? Right. Flashback: he’s a little boy. Beautiful, red-haired Mona clutches Beau by the arm. She’s hissing and hissing at him. Yes. A (very) scary mom.

Beau Can’t Trust Kindness

Beau is Afraid. His entire life is torture. He lives in flashbacks. And, constant triggers. Moms are hurting children on the street. There are mean, violent people everywhere. His dissociated feelings threaten to return. That terrifies him. Beau tries hard to stay “dead.” Warning: Don’t settle into Grace’s “sweeties.” We see how angry and unhappy her daughter, Toni (Kylie Rogers), is. The dead brother is idealized. Grace, it turns out, is an unsafe mom, too. Better not cross her.

No one is safe. That’s why Beau’s paranoid. Because of his trauma, he can’t trust people, his feelings, or his desires. Sink into wanting someone to love him, watch out…

But for a while, Beau thinks he’s landed in heaven. Could this possibly be a “good mommy?” Grace gives him a home for as long as he needs, seems so gentle and loving, and he can finally even cry. You can cry with a good mom. Toni’s jealous. They’ve replaced her dead brother with Beau. So, Toni (with her sidekick Jeeves (Denis Ménochet), her dead brother’s combat-mate with survivor’s guilt and the PTSD that Beau doesn’t know he has) set out to (you got it) torture Beau. No breaks for Beau.

(“You’re fucked, pal”).

Of course, Beau can’t trust kindness. There’s none to count on in a traumatic childhood. Even his (suspiciously saccharine) therapist isn’t trustworthy or kind. That should never happen. Beau has to be on guard, hypervigilant, everywhere. If he lets down his guard, his PTSD is after him. And, Beau (what else is new?) is blamed for Toni’s suicide.

There’s Toni’s suicide. “Dr. Cohen (Richard Kind),” who humiliates and blames Beau for making people wait to bury Mona. Her (highness’s) wish was to have him at the funeral. Don’t mess with Mona’s wishes.

Beau’s PTSD (Jeeves) Runs Amok

Being blamed by Grace (another mother who turns on him) makes Beau’s PTSD run amok. He didn’t kill Toni, did he? He tried to help her stop drinking the paint. But all his life, he’s felt he was killing his mom. Her childbirth screams. The constant hurt she blames him for. Killing her. Beau feels like a murderer, just like Jeeves does. Did he kill Toni? Grace thinks so.

No, Beau isn’t safe anywhere.

Everything is Beau’s fault. Confused, he believes he’s “guilty as charged.” A note under his cup says: “Stop incriminating yourself.” He can’t. It must be his fault. That’s what Mona says. That’s what every traumatized child believes. In his paranoid fantasies, people yell at him in the street. Grace’s accusations trigger Beau’s PTSD (Jeeves is after him). She’s just like Mona.  

So, what else can Beau do? He runs. Fast. Through the woods. But to where?

Beau Imagines the Life Mom Ruined

In the woods, Beau meets a pregnant woman. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m lost. Can you help me, please?” She’s with a troop of actors: “Orphans in the Forest.” Their parents abandoned them. They’re kind. Welcoming. But Beau can’t trust kindness, can he? (as Jeeves charges through the woods at Grace’s behest, “rip him apart!”) For a moment, Beau imagines a better life: an angel, in the orphan actors’ play, hands Beau an axe to remove his chains.

She tells him a story of what might have been: “You will build a life of your own, grow food, work, and learn a trade, build a house of your own with your own hands, and meet a woman. She will see you, your fears, pain, your dreams, and your potential. Become pregnant because you have sex with her. You’ll have 3 boys. You’ll teach them what you know and tell them you love them every day.”  All the things Mona didn’t give or allow Beau to have. But it’s not to be.

Quickly, a storm, a flood (of his dissociated sadness and PTSD) washes away what he wants and separates him from his family. He searches high and low for them, grows old and tired. Crying, he tells the angel, “I’ve been searching for my family my whole life.” Beau has belonged nowhere.   

But the angel turns on him. She’s Mona: “Because of your selfishness, you’ve been alone. Confess!” “What did I do?” “You know. Confess!” “I’ve been a coward.” No, it’s not his fault. Mona’s abuse and constant accusations of “hurting” the only family he has?

Of course, Beau is Afraid.

Mona owns him. And, she won’t allow him to love anyone else. Certainly not Elaine (Parker Posey).

No Sex for Beau (Don’t Mess with Mom)

Wanting sex? A normal desire. Not for Beau. No way. An orgasm will kill him, Mona says. It killed his dad, grandfather, and great-grandfather. (Mona’s self-serving lies. Shameless lies.) She’s castrated Beau because sex would be a betrayal of her. It would mean he doesn’t love her.

At about 13 years old, on a cruise he and Mona took together, Beau met a seductive girl, his age, named Elaine. Mona’s lip curls with the venom he lives with if he crosses her: “Only women know women. She’s the type you’re attracted to? To get a girl like that, self-possessed, you have to be confident … You could. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Any girl would …” But Mona won’t let it happen. Beau is mommy’s little man. She’s the only woman who’ll have him.

Yet, she’s dead now, right? (Even though he knows that the woman in the coffin isn’t his mom.)  And when Elaine shows up at the funeral (she also worked for his mom), that old 13-year-old love and lust are still alive. He waited for her, he said, the promise he made years ago. They make love in Mona’s bed. He can’t control his orgasm.

Beau is Afraid. But Beau doesn’t die, Elaine does.

And, of course, Mona, very alive, walks in; a triumphant, gloating, cruel, humiliating Mona. In uncharacteristic rage and hate, Beau (momentarily) is (not) Afraid. He tries to strangle her.

Yes, Beau wishes his mom dead. Why wouldn’t he? But, shocked at his aggression, he stops.

Beau’s Rage Could Set Him Free (Why Doesn’t It?)

Beau is Afraid of his rage. That’s why there is so much violence in the streets around him. He has to get rid of it and, so, projects his hate and his aggression out into the world, as though it doesn’t exist inside him. Like all his other feelings, including his sadness and desires.

His rage could set him free. Not that he’d actually have to kill Mona to accomplish that. If Beau could know his rage is normal, that any abused child feels it somewhere inside, he wouldn’t be so scared of it. He wouldn’t be apologetic, paranoid, or so, so passive. But Beau is Afraid.

He’s Mona’s hostage. Forever. (Unless he can get some real help. Not the fake therapist Mona pays and controls.) Because even if Mona was dead, she’s weaseled her way into his mind with so many years of cruelty. She lives there. Her guilting voice, loud and clear: “You’re fucked, pal, if you want anything for yourself.” Wrong. Guilty. Sentenced to no life of his own. Dead, even if he’s not. So, that’s how Beau lives. Shut down, dissociated, paranoid, and scared to say the wrong thing, drowning in all his unshed tears. And believing he must be guilty if Mona says so.