Beau Is Afraid is not a movie that wants to be understood in a traditional sense—it’s designed to be an overwhelming, anxiety-ridden odyssey where meaning is entirely subjective. Ari Aster crafts a surreal, often nightmarish world that feels both deeply personal and universally unsettling. The film taps into the psyche of its audience, mirroring their own fears, relationships, and insecurities, particularly surrounding themes of guilt, maternal control, and existential dread. Whether you see it as a tragic comedy, an absurdist horror, or a Freudian fever dream depends on what you bring to it—your own relationship with your mother, your personal anxieties, and how much you’re willing to surrender to its chaos. This is a movie that refuses to give answers but thrives on interpretation, making it an experience that lingers long after the credits roll.

Beyond its complex themes, Beau Is Afraid is also a masterclass in filmmaking. The cinematography is striking, shifting between claustrophobic close-ups and vast, unsettling dreamscapes that make you feel trapped inside Beau’s mind. The soundtrack amplifies the tension, seamlessly weaving between eerie orchestrations and unexpectedly playful melodies, reinforcing the film’s tonal instability. At the center of it all is Joaquin Phoenix, delivering a raw and deeply vulnerable performance that keeps the audience tethered to Beau’s unraveling psyche. His performance is so committed that, even when the film descends into complete absurdity, his fear and confusion feel painfully real. Whether you love it or hate it, Beau Is Afraid is an ambitious, one-of-a-kind cinematic experience that challenges its audience to sit with discomfort and find meaning in the madness.

Stick around until the end of the episode for a round of Movie 20 Questions.

Safe travels, nomads.