Nic Sheff, the 36-year-old writer whose 2007 memoir Tweak, adjoining his father, David's, own recollection in his book Beautiful Boy, describes in horrific detail his downward trajectory from promising young artist and student to remorseless meth addict, and his divorced parents' various attempts at trying to save him from his demons, has seemingly found peace.
The resulting film based on those books, Beautiful Boy, made by Belgian director Felix van Groeningen, and starring Timothee Chalamet as Nic and Steve Carell as David, has just been released wide after playing the festival circuit, which gives him a chance to tell his story again. Now, eight years sober, Nic comes across as sensitive and affable, able to see clearly his failings and the amount of pain he caused his family, while staying vigilant on his own sobriety.
Continuing on a press tour for the film, which began with transcendent star Chalamet (an experience which Sheff compared to being with "a Beatle or something"), he met with me at the former bank-turned-posh-hotel Ritz Carlton in Philadelphia, where he talked about the nature of addiction, the failing of insurance companies, and what it's like to see some of your lowest moments re-enacted on a screen in front of a large audience.
First off, I have to tell you I wrote a quick tweet reaction about the film after I saw the film in Toronto, and the Timothee Chalamet army were all over it: My phone was pinging for two days. What's it like being played by a 22-year-old with the social media world in his pocket?
Well, he's kind of like the handsome movie star version of me, I think. Maybe three quarters of my social media followers are like, 'Timothee Chalamet's Eyebrows,' and, 'I Love Timmy Forever.' The fans know so many details about his life. They write him letters and give him these presents and stuff, and commenting on his favorite songs. The thing that is really amazing is, because he has such a huge fan base, and they're predominately young people, it feels like a lot of young people are gonna come out to see the movie, which is really great. It's tough subject matter, but I can't think of any group that would be more important for them to see the movie. They are the front lines dealing with this addiction crisis, and just the prevalence of drugs in general in our culture.
It was interesting that the film never tried to make reasons -- or excuses -- for your addiction.
It's true, and I think it's a really brave choice that Felix [van Groeningen] made in making the movie. They never really try to answer that question, 'why is this kid doing what he's doing?' Because there is no 'why.' With addiction, it's sort of a perfect storm of events that come together, but also the fact is addiction is an equal opportunity destroyer, and people of all different socioeconomic backgrounds and cultural backgrounds become addicted, and all the money and privilege in the world can't protect someone from this disease. And, of course, we were very conscious going out with the movie that we want to talk to people about the problems in the treatment community, and the fact that treatment can be so prohibitively expensive.
There was a John Oliver segment devoted to the failure of treatment centers in general.
It's so unregulated, you really don't know what you're getting, and insurance often times won't pay for treatment or it will only pay for partial stays. This crisis, this opioid epidemic that's killing 200 people a day now in our country, is overwhelming, and it feels like we've just scratched the surface in terms of what we need to do to respond to it. I've seen some articles talking about what you mentioned: 'Why is this kid an addict? Why should we care about him? He has all these opportunities, and he's just throwing them away.' And to me, that conversation is a really important one to have, and so I'm super grateful that the movie has been sparking that conversation.
What does the film get exactly right about your experience?
All the performances in the movie are amazing, but there's something Timothee does that's so amazing, where you see in his performance, the two sides of his character. You see this person doing these horrible things, breaking into his parents' house, stealing from his little brother and sister, acting volatile and belligerent, and yet you also see at the same time, all of the guilt and shame that's there, and the fact that he still is that same person he was before, that sensitive, caring person. And he's almost like watching himself be hijacked by these drugs and by this behavior. I don't know how it's possible, but he holds those two things in that one performance. In other portrayals of addiction, I've never seen anything like it. It's so authentic. I felt all that guilt, all that shame, all that horror at what I was doing, and yet, I was doing it, and I couldn't stop myself.
Was there a scene in the film that was particularly difficult to watch?
Yeah, definitely the stealing the money from my little brother scene, because I remember that when it really happened, super clearly. I went through a lot of low points, but in some ways that was kind of the lowest. Just 'cause I remember when my little brother was born, I was 11. All I wanted was to be a good influence on him. I wanted to make his life better, and the fact that I got to that point where I was actively stealing from him and hurting him. It's the most shameful thing for me, and watching it was tough. But, I guess the only good thing was after my brother saw the movie, he called me and we had one of the most incredible conversations that we've ever had. We both expressed our gratitude for each other and for our relationship, and it inspired us to talk about stuff that we hadn't talked about ever, really. So that was a gift, even though it was really hard.
This is a bit tricky to answer, I'm guessing, but do you think if your 20-year-old self had seen this film about someone else it would have made a positive impact on you?
I think it could have, actually. I mean, I don't know that it would have stopped me from going down the path I went on, but I do think that I didn't have all the information that I needed as a young person, and that's why I do think that education is so important. When Timmy is relapsing, he's not doing it because he's wanting to have fun or he's partying. He's doing it because he's in a ton of pain and he keeps reaching out to the drugs to try to feel better, and then as soon as he does, then that phenomena of craving starts, and he just can't stop. I think if I had been aware that it was a thing that existed, that's what alcoholism as a disease looks like, I think that it might have helped me to identify it in myself a little sooner, for sure.
It's ridiculous to me in this day and age, that we are still having to fight to classify addiction as a disease unto itself, and not some kind of moral failing.
That's the really frustrating thing with the treatment system. Obviously, it is a disease, it should be treated like a disease, and insurance should be paying for treatment, and it shouldn't even be a question. I've been in treatment centers with people where their insurance ran out, and then they get kicked out. It's literally happened where this boy got kicked out of treatment, and the next day we found out he died of a drug overdose. And it was just because his insurance decided that he'd been in rehab for 15 days and that was enough. The fact that treatment centers are so unregulated that insurance doesn't pay for them, and there aren't good scholarship programs for people who can't afford treatment. It's all maddening.
You've now been sober for eight years. Suffice it to say, [do] you feel more balanced now?
It's interesting. The things that make my life so worthwhile now, that make me happy and make me fulfilled, are not external things at all. It's all stuff within me. I've learned how to love myself, and understand myself. I love going on a walk with my dogs, or watching a movie, I've figured out, like, these are the things I really love in life. But none of it has anything to do with my success, or money, or anything. It's all this internal stuff. Living in L.A., I'm surrounded by celebrities and people that have tons of money, and you see that emptiness and loneliness and self-hatred. Money and fame can't do anything to assuage those feelings. It really is something that has to be worked out internally.
Anne Lamott, has this great thing where she says, 'The reason that people are so unhappy is because they compare their insides to other people's outsides.' After having eight years sober, I see life is really beautiful, and I feel really happy. I'm on medication for bipolar disorder and for depression, and every once in a while, there will be a day, where suddenly things that normally make me happy, aren't anymore. Like, I'll be walking my dogs or something, and I just feel like, I'm not feeling it, and I'm feeling depressed and worried and stuff. And that thought will come into my head, like, 'You're always gonna feel this way.' But then I'm like, 'That's a lie. It's not true. These things normally make me happy, if I get a good night's sleep, tomorrow they will make me happy again.' And I've experienced it enough to know that it's true.
MovieStyle on 11/09/2018