One from the Heart

There’s no crying at film festivals. Since the rise of Sundance in the 1980s, the right type of indie film has defined itself by its fringeness–the last holdover of Gen X irony that’s managed to survive in this cultural zeitgeist. Bawling openly is for people who watch The Notebook. But, when Bob Trevino Likes It screened at the Nashville Film Festival last September, the sound of sniffles was louder than the end credits music. From fast-fashion-clad coastal visitors to local retirees supporting the arts, the movie did something many think the medium no longer can.

I’ve spent the six months since I saw Bob Trevino Likes It thinking about the movie. Even though I had yet to experience the gross-out glory of The Substance or the aesthetic heights of Anora and The Brutalist, the unassuming images of Tracie Laymon’s directorial debut won’t leave my head: John Leguizamo’s bereaved wife obsessing over her latest scrapbook, Barbie Ferreira reading a text from a boyfriend he never intended to send. Clearly, I’m not a self-conscious woman who grew up in a Louisville trailer park with an absent narcissistic dad played by the weirdest alien from 90s sitcom 3rd Rock from The Sun; nor am I a put-upon construction manager who dreams of buying a prosumer telescope. But these characters and the half-empty diners, hardware stores, and working-class homes they occupy feel so lived in, so human that it's hard to resist fully immersing oneself in this world. 

Loosely based on an experience Laymon had as twentysomething, the movie focuses on Ferreira’s Lily Trevino, an isolated Gen Zer as listless as she is hapless. Underemployed as a live-in caregiver for a wheelchair-bound woman the same age (Lolo Spencer), Lily has shut the world out. Her support system consists of her grifter of a dad (French Stewart) who severs ties with her for pushing back on his deadbeat ways. During a desperate attempt at reconciliation, she accidentally Facebook friends the wrong Bob Trevino, a mistake that ultimately allows both her and her newfound father figure to reach their true potential and fill the decades long voids that have left them as mere shells of themselves.

The most impressive aspect of Bob Trevino is Laymon’s seamless ability to bridge gritty regional character study with heartfelt family drama, an approach that somehow makes the film everything to everyone without patronizing any particular base. In her choice to put forth such an emotionally raw story, Laymon also avoids the unfortunate obsession with cinema as therapy that has become the dominant indie mode after the success of Everything Everywhere All at Once. Lily may be a victim of her father’s abusive self-centeredness, but she also learns to hold herself accountable as the film refuses to let its characters or audience off the hook for not embracing their potential,

Thus, Bob Trevino’s emotional reception last fall in Nashville was no outlier. “So many people have come up to me and said, ‘I can relate to this. I had a father like this, or my mother or my grandmother or my ex or something,’” Laymon told The Pamphleteer. “I think this movie seems to be providing an outlet for people to understand that they're not alone. And whether it's a teenager in Minneapolis or an older gentleman in his 60s in Seattle, or a woman in Charlottesville, these are all people who had profound experiences really fighting back tears. This movie isn't about wallowing in our misery. It's about celebrating hope and connection and accepting that we are all broken.”

While the film carefully cultivates its universality, so much of its success hinges on Laymon’s dedication to the nuances of its Louisville setting. From the multifaceted accents to scenes set in the city's sparser neighborhoods, Bob Trevino feels anchored, a story about real people in a medium that far too often remains removed from those of us in Flyover County. For Texas-native Laymon, the decision to shoot in this part of the South with a largely local crew added a vital dimension to the project. “I was amazed by the hospitality of the region. A lot of our crew were from Illinois, Indiana, Tennessee, and Kentucky,” Laymon said. So given the heart of this film, it really made sense to shoot it there.” 

At a time when both sides of the political spectrum seem to value ideological conformity over emotional resonance in popular culture, a film like Bob Trevino Likes It reminds viewers that, in Hollywood’s mid century heyday, the medium connected to our universal human experiences. Regardless of genre, cinematic stories reflected our shared values while also challenging us to be the best version of ourselves. Bob Trevino Likes It is not a piece of content. It’s a movie tailor made for a communal theatrical experience. And it’s the best reason for fairweather audiences to get back out to the multiplex in quite some time. 

Bob Trevino Likes It opens at AMC Thoroughbred 20 and Regal Green Hills 16 today. The 6:40 p.m. Saturday screening at Regal Green Hills will feature a Q&A with Nashville actor Ted Welch, who plays Leguizamo’s boss.