June 4, 2026
There is a “too soon” topic that has recently been budding in mainstream media… particularly in cinema. I’m sure you can already suspect what it is that I’m going to say. Well, let’s get into it.
Gun violence is nothing new in itself as a cinematic tool. Nor is gun violence with respect to school shootings or domestic abuse. But for a time, with the exception of documentary and news coverage, it seemed to be one of those “off limits” topics that had no place in experimental artistry or entertainment. This is no longer the case.
Our Hero, Balthazar released in the US about a month ago to 93% on Rotten Tomatoes and rave audience reviews. It signaled Oscar Boyson’s directorial debut, who has otherwise been a producer on various films like Uncut Gems and Frances Ha, and featured a star-studded cast of Jaeden Martell (who co-produced and played the titular character), Asa Butterfield, Pippa Knowles, Noah Centino, and other unexpected appearances. The film is an extremely dark comedy that follows Martell’s “Balthy” on an impulsive journey to try and prevent a potential Texan school shooter that he has connected with on Instagram.
And he does it entirely for a girl’s attention.
Now, this is one of those surprising-unsurprising tropes that has become a bit more popularized in recent media of “this is the dynamic we’re going to establish for you and slightly destabilize it towards the end right before everything blows up.” It’s not outright an “unexpected villain” story, due to the nature that seemingly none of the characters turn out to be “good” or redeemed by their intentions.
From the very beginning of the film, Balthazar is revealed to be a Patrick Bateman-style psychopathic “activist” who cries about social injustice on Instagram. He heavily researches emotional clickbait and manipulative taglines to draw in viewers and posit himself as a voice of activism, only to turn off the waterworks the millisecond the cameras stop rolling. Through multiple “takes” of the same scene, the audience is shown this morbid habit in a sort of comical, satirical portrayal of Gen Z’s delusional social media activism mindset.
His foil, Solomon (played by Asa Butterfield) is initially portrayed as ne’er do well trailer-trash, who has been dealt multiple bad hands throughout his life, and in turn has turned reactionary. He captures Balthy’s attention by threatening to go through with his plan to do a shooting.
It’s very clean cut in the social and power dynamics between this unlikely pairing that for the majority of the film, there is indeed a string of shocking hilarities that come out of Balthy and Solomon’s “friendship.” Brains versus guns. Emotions versus apathy. It’s a match made in perfected perversion.
What is ultimately disarming are some of the lengths that Balthy goes to in order to win over an initially suspicious Solomon… an intricately developed AI catfish, accusations of rape, and a macabre fascination with the deed he’s trying to “prevent.” The hero mindset is inherently a masquerade from the start, but as he spends more time with Solomon, it becomes chillingly apparent that when it comes down to the heat of the moment itself, the priorities of each of the boys are completely inverted.
This is only the latest portrait of this topic. Just this spring, The Drama took to social media and ignited heavy discourse about its character dynamics. Whether or not the film ended up pulling off what it was trying to (I personally think it missed all the marks), it was a cornerstone of debate for weeks. And before that, Ari Aster’s Eddington approached very similar ideologies of the violent apathy of social media activism and realtime violence during the pandemic.
These and other examples assess systemic manipulation and the widespread social resentment. It’s become normalized to hold onto extreme disgust rather than offer neighbors grace and understanding.
Such as it is, Joaquin Phoenix’s character, Joe Cross, abuses his power as sheriff and takes to a renegade crusade to restore “order and structure” to his small town. Alana Haim’s Rachel positions herself as the antagonist from the very beginning, taking Emma’s guilty and harrowing secret and blowing it entirely out of proportion, if to use as leverage against a woman she clearly wants to destroy. And Martell’s Balthy decides it’s his “responsibility” to stop a potential tragedy (and perhaps livestream it for his followers).
In each case, these characters all purport the “white savior” complex, acting without regard to repercussions or care for genuine consequence. Their sense of individualism is so extreme it becomes self-righteousness, and in turn runs rampant through the people around them.
Because no one does anything to check them.
And because no one checks them, the spectacle they create becomes even more ludicrous. The mindlessness of the Eddington teenagers that Cross enables results in a violent martyrdom about how they “have no right to speak on behalf” of the indigenous and black communities present. And yet, there they are, taking up the visibility.
Balthazar also takes to his digital soapbox, stealing the words of other (real) victims online and turning them into personal mantras.
Rachel is pettier, and somehow more aggressive about her approach. She just can’t seem to look past her own opinions long enough to table the issues and hash them out in an appropriate setting. So she makes everyone around her into miserable, nervous wrecks.
And that’s one other thing… this inherent “wickedness” of the marginalized characters in these movies. Emma, Solomon, and Mayor Garcia are all set up as the “bad” characters because of the controversial aspects about their personas. Is it because none of them are the clean, educated, rich, white characters that stand opposite them?
I will say that The Drama does a great deal to humanize Zendaya’s troubled protagonist through flashbacks and gentle monologues… It is the same with Asa Butterfield’s character. But even so, you’re still not sure if you’re supposed to root for them when the end comes. They don’t ever get “redeemed” in any meaningful way. Then their fate comes, and you just accept the outcome.
Is that the responsible thing to do? Utilize the angst and turmoil of these “people’s” perspectives, only to do the predictable thing with their “resolution?” I’m not so sure.
If Eddington is a cold, westernized political “horror” and The Drama is a psychological case study/thriller, then Our Hero, Balthazar is a slapstick comedy that tackles the current desensitized Gen Z billionaire POV. But with each example, there is something ultimately lacking from the result. Perhaps it’s that these creators are still too close to their subject matter, even if they believe they aren’t. It could also be this through-line of no real consequences.
The blame on the antagonists is deferred to institutional blame, which automatically reaches up to the more nuanced device of political criticism… it works, sure. But it’s not a full resolution if the stories are about the people themselves.
This is in part because of the “hyper-realism” this niche of media is leaning into. In real life and in real time, there are no repercussions for the financially, racially, or culturally privileged. There is inherent wiggle room for those not deemed as a “usual suspect.”
But the irony of films like these is that they don’t seem capable of fully capturing the story they’re presenting, especially not as blockbusters. Characters like Sheriff Cross, Rachel, and little, sadistic Balthy are left standing at the end because those are the “logical conclusions” of evil triumphing over the underdog. Where in real life these things ring true, there is too much emphasis on the expected reality, and these films start to forget that they’re still films.
It’s a shame that these stories rely so heavily on the narrative that the white billionaire just up and walks away from the carnage they’ve created completely unscathed, if not better off than they were before. It might be the current understanding of what continues to go on in the world, particularly in the “American World,” but the reinforcement of this kind of defeatist-ism isn’t doing anyone any favors. It certainly isn’t providing refreshing vantages or productive and worthwhile discourse.
Bring back hope, people. Even if it’s make believe for the time being.