Our Hero, Balthazar’s titular lead (Jaeden Martell) isn’t sincere. He spends his days filming videos for social media, mustering up crocodile tears about the latest headlines. His hollow approach soars to the next level when he falls for Eleanor (Pippa Knowles), a true noble crusader. Hoping to win her heart—despite her adamant insistence he’s a creep—Balthazar seeks a splashy cause. The random Texan in his Instagram DMs proclaiming his intent to shoot up a school should do nicely.

The uber-wealthy phony heads for Fort Worth, hoping to convince Solomon (Asa Butterfield) to abandon his bloody plans. Like Balthazar, the would-be shooter is a fake. However, he is a disturbed, cash-strapped individual desperate for a friend and the approval of his toxic father, Beaver (Chris Bauer). Despite coming from radically different socioeconomic circumstances, the two charlatans gradually find that they have plenty in common. Specifically, a fondness for firearms and confronting issues in unhealthy ways.

It’s no surprise Our Hero, Balthazar writer/director Oscar Boyson (who penned the script with Ricky Camilleri), previously produced indie titles like Good Time and the underrated 2022 wayward teenager feature Funny Pages. He translates the uncomfortable yuks and unflinching depictions of unlikeable protagonists of those efforts into his feature-length directorial debut. He and Camilleri fully commit to making Our Hero Balthazar’s world one where basically everyone on-screen is grifting.

New York politicians with hollow smiles have abandoned legislating for hustling. Outfits running school shooting simulations profit off tragedies. Beaver sells testosterone powder junk. Only a handful of souls, like Eleanor, don’t embrace this cycle of exploitation dressed up as reaching for authentic change. This grim portrait of modern America produces several hearty, cringe-inducing laughs, many stemming from Balthazar’s amusing incompetence. He can’t weave a lie or follow the simplest instructions without shattering. The dissonance between his self-perception and how he crumbles the instant Solomon starts yelling at him is a fine source of bleak comedy.

There’s also an admirable commitment to going dark, one established early. When Balthazar and Eleanor first talk, they do so covered in imitation gunshot wounds, posing as corpses during a school shooting simulation. A pivotal set piece between Balthazar, Solomon, and Beaver in a bar, meanwhile, doesn’t shy away from staring down cringe-inducing social awkwardness. Boyson’s camera makes the viewer feel trapped at the crusty tavern table, unable to escape creepy comments or uneasy familial connections.

That dedication includes not sanding the edges off Balthazar or Solomon. There’s no attempt to write off their jagged psyches as the result of “economic anxiety”. School shooting footage sexually excites Balthazar. Solomon sees the lead character of a Danny Phantom TV show pastiche as more human than his neighbors. They both roil with frustration that women don’t just roll over to love them immediately. These qualities inspire gasp and cackle-inducing bleak comedy while providing a window into a pair of disturbing individuals.

While Our Hero, Balthazar may lure viewers in with uncomfortable yuks, it holds their attention with its talented leads. Butterfield is unrecognizable as Solomon. While so many British performers struggle delivering Southern American accents, his is as natural as his immensely believable physicality. Awkwardness and simmering rage radiate off every inch of Butterfield’s performance without rendering Solomon an arch caricature. Instead, this Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children veteran crafts an authentic character, making him all the more chilling. And heartbreaking.

Unfortunately, the feature isn’t nearly as distinctive visually. It traffics in straightforward, serviceable camerawork and conventional imagery, nothing registering as specific to this story. These qualities especially underserve a climactic confrontation between Solomon and his father. The moment calls for tenser, claustrophobic imagery that never materializes.

There are also strange dangling threads in Balthazar’s life in the Big Apple in need of either a trimming or a fleshing out. Noah Centenio, for instance, inexplicably shows up for a cameo as this troubled teen’s life coach. Jennifer Ehle as Balthazar’s mom, meanwhile, gives her all to a role that’s only fitfully well-written. Our Hero, Balthazar thrives on specificity and these elements suffer from vagueness.

On the other hand, Boyson and Camilleri’s script effectively keeps viewers uncertain where the warped story is going next. Chaotic unpredictability especially underpins the potentially blossoming friendship between Balthazar and Solomon. Can these two figures share a truly meaningful bond? Is it even good for them to be pals? These queries hover over Our Hero, Balthazar as it wrings memorably dark comedy from the twin modern American horrors of too-online young men and school shootings. Sometimes you have to laugh through the tears and fears, especially when you have quality grim giggles at your disposal.

Our Hero, Balthazar begins rolling out in limited release on March 27 before expanding in the weeks to come.

Our Hero, Balthazar Trailer: