Beau Is Afraid

This new horror starring Joaquin Phoenix and Patti LuPone is a building panic attack of a film - but its bloated, self-indulgent three-hour runtime lets it down.

It’s hard to thrill to the turn of the screw when the wheels have already come off.

An often sensationally funny black comedy, poetically punctuated by the horror of the human condition. The connecting tissue between all three films is the dread of mortality, which in Beau is Afraid is given a run for its money by the terror of living.

It’s not that the laughter is set against the despair. It is the despair itself that is so funny – so absurd, so pointless, so pathetic.

There’s more than enough absurdist madness here to delight, infuriate and exasperate in equal measure.

... It’s like being cornered at a party by a moron who won’t stop describing this zany dream he’s just had, including the climactic appearance of a giant homicidal “penis monster”.

My enjoyment is almost only due to the visceral experience of the entire nightmare playing out, and not from the meaning behind it.

Terrific moments are ultimately stifled by Aster's disorganisation&#59; he flits from the sublime to the downright stupid so often in Beau Is Afraid that it becomes impossible to guess whether each subsequent beat or moment will be a success or a disaster.

There is an evident consideration to theme, as is always the case with Aster, but the execution feels like it is having its cake and eating it too.

Alas, at least the first hour of Beau is Afraid is a complete riot, a smorgasbord of black comedy and modern neuroses with a dash of slapstick. The real feat would have been to sustain that pace for the entire movie.