Beautiful Boy

"I love you more than everything," "Everything?" "Yeah, everything." The boy will always be beautiful to his father. Because he's his son. When I was a kid my mom watched this movie about a teenage drug addict while I watched from a mattress on the floor. There was a scene where he told his mom "All addicts are liars" talking about a girl in his NA group. His mom later suspected him of carrying drugs, shouting and begging for him to give them to her. And he repeatedly told her that he didn't have any. I was convinced he didn't have any. Until his mom searched him and found a packet in his pockets. She asked him why he lied, and he said "All addicts are liars". I believed him at first, that he didn't have drugs, and I didn't understand why the mom was so paranoid. Until I did. I was probably only 8 at the time, but I understood enough to know addiction is complex. I think about that scene everytime I learn something new about addicts. That day Nick and his dad went surfing, and Nick emerged from the big scary waves with a smile on his face, his dad made up his mind. His son was invincible, carefree, full of life. Perfect. So it was hard to watch his beautiful boy fall into addiction, let alone accept it. He saw him make it out victorious once, and believed the rest of his life would turn out the same. After his first rehab admission, you can see Nick trying to build that bridge between him and his dad again. Then you can see that bridge finish building. It just needed structure. It needed more time. Neither of them knew it wasn't sound. All they knew is that it was built. Nick finds a box of pills. He thinks he's invincible, he's gonna do just fine. Maybe a little part of him is thinking ahead and telling himself "relapse is a part of recovery". You can hear the life in his voice drain from when he calls his dad. Drugs are just as effective when you inject them as when you smoke them. But injections are easier to hide. A longsleeve t-shirt, a little white lie. No need to crack open a window, or clean up some ash. Easy. Nick relapses multiple times over the course of this movie, spanning years of his life. But each time he approaches recovery, has it in his hands, you see how beautiful this boy is. How he's full of so much talent and passion and capacity for love. Each time, it's so mesmerizing, it makes you forget, even just a little bit, that this boy is an addict. And there's still an hour left. And his dad is still a dad. I have no idea how it is to be a parent of a mentally ill child, but I know how it is to be that child. Seeing the look in your parents eyes that scream "What am I gonna do with you?" and simultaneously "How am I supposed to help you?". So much questions and they usually look for the answer in their child. What went wrong? What IS wrong? But they should know the answer is up to the parent to figure out, and the solution isn't found when information is coerced before time is taken to understand. Nick relapses multiple times over the course of this movie, spanning years of his life. A parent can make bad decisions and still be a good parent at the end of the day. Nick's dad is an example. But love prevails. If it is present, it will find its way to be known. It will fail, but not as many times as it will succeed. Whether on the form of a blanket, a chase-down from your stepmother, a plane ride to New York, a phone call, or a song, love was found everywhere in this movie.