Beautiful Friend

Truman Kewley’s Beautiful Friend (2024) doesn’t just ask - it forces you to stare directly into the void. This deeply unsettling incel horror film (for those who might not be familiar with the term, Incels are heterosexual men who blame society and women for their lack of romantic success) dives headfirst into isolation, identity, and the human psyche’s darkest recesses, offering a chilling commentary on our fractured world.

Set against the haunting backdrop of the early COVID-19 pandemic, the film trades on the claustrophobia and anxiety of lockdown life but quickly reveals it’s not just another pandemic story. Instead, it’s a slow-burn psychological thriller that grapples with questions many would rather avoid.

The narrative follows Daniel (Adam Jones), a sociopathic amateur filmmaker who kidnaps Madison (Alexandrea Meyer), forcing her into the role of his fantasy girlfriend. Inspired by the manifesto of a 2014 mass shooter, Daniel is a character study of loneliness, rejection, and the warped ideologies that emerge when societal cracks go unnoticed.

"Beautiful Friend" is unapologetically provocative, daring to explore disturbing questions: Does neglect and rejection inevitably breed hatred? Can toxic ideologies like inceldom and misogyny grow from seeds society plants? These questions are not answered but left for viewers to wrestle with, deepening the film’s psychological impact.

The film’s most jarring moments are deliberate, such as misogynistic phrases flashing briefly on the screen, forcing audiences to confront their unsettling prevalence. Kewley also critiques social media and dating apps as breeding grounds for distorted alter-egos and unattainable ideals - tools that amplify Daniel’s spiral into madness.

A disembodied voice narrates Daniel’s fragmented thoughts, compelling viewers close to his unravelling mind. Kewley’s use of static, painterly camera work, occasionally intercut with raw, found-footage-style shots, evokes a gritty ’90s indie aesthetic. Vivid colours and meticulous framing subtly reflect Daniel’s inner turmoil, heightening the oppressive atmosphere.

The dynamic between Daniel and Madison unfolds as a haunting exploration of trauma bonding, marked by her unsettling acceptance of her fate. Madison’s willingness to comply without resistance is less about submission and more a calculated survival strategy, born from the harrowing realization that there’s no immediate escape.

This dynamic introduces a chilling layer of complexity as her attempts to “play along” blur the line between agency and desperation, deepening the psychological tension within an already grim narrative.

The violence in Beautiful Friend is very graphic yet devastating, hitting harder on an emotional level. Kewley avoids glamorization, using violence as a stark reflection of the illusion of control. Beneath the horror lies a provocative examination of the crises of the younger generation, questioning the constructs of biological gender, chosen one, and societal norms.

In some of the chilling monologues, where Daniel muses,: “You are in control of how you deal with a situation” - “They say to be liked, you should be yourself”…But what if being yourself means being a psychopath?

These lines epitomize the film’s exploration of free will versus societal conditioning. If Daniel is really in control of his own actions, what does that say about his heinous choices? If society is to blame, how do we confront the monsters we’ve created?

While its merits, “Beautiful Friend” is not without flaws. The slow pacing occasionally falters, risking the loss of audience engagement. At times, the film teeters on the edge of being dismissed as a glorified shock piece.

Kewley’s film is not just a cautionary tale - it’s a mirror held up to a fractured world. Beautiful Friend may be hard to watch, but it leaves an indelible mark on those who dare to confront its unsettling truths.