Former rock musician Phoenix (Rob Jaeger) is a kept man past his prime, shunned by his mistress Whitney (Debbie Scaletta), who desires something more than what her lover can offer, namely the young pool boy Paco (Nick Ventura). Disheartened by current affairs both in the bedroom and in his life, Phoenix decides to make some crucial changes that might alter his future. And it all starts with a visit to the doctor’s (Ern Gerardo) office.
Unabashedly irreverent, you’ll find no lack of shame in writer/director Chris Harboldt’s The Boy Toy, and for what it’s worth, that’s a really good thing. As a precursor for what’s to come, we must mention that the film is a proof of concept.
When we first meet Phoenix, he’s a carefree guy chilling in a pool with red Speedos on. His swagger’s on, passing the resident maid Roxanne (Marry Faktor), who reminds him of his “happy” days singing on stage. It’s a brief interaction, cut short by an even quicker round of action between him and Whitney. This is where we start to see the dysfunction begin to creep in. Phoenix can no longer satisfy his mistress, and she, in turn, has had it with his troubles. The result? Some much-needed soul-searching for Phoenix.
Harboldt’s short is thematically quite intriguing, if perhaps lacking in its overall execution. Structurally, The Boy Toy is a touch insubstantial, sprinting its way through Phoenix’s personal development in a matter of minutes. Sure, we do eventually get to a rousing revelation to coronate this shift, but it doesn’t quite feel earned, given the rushed groundwork laid by the script. Simply put, it needed more time to develop its journey, and had the film been five minutes longer to facilitate this, it would have probably fixed the narrative holes.
There are some odd editing choices throughout as well (manifesting primarily during conversations) and some rather monotonous line deliveries—the latter of which really hamper a handful of comedically critical moments. Even still, it’s a conceptually very satisfying piece of social commentary, made even more potent by a scene-stealing lead. The Boy Toy essentially lives and dies by the performance of Jaeger. He’s the film’s main attraction and primary source of charisma. When the story works, it works because he’s so deeply, unapologetically committed to the role of an aging gigolo. He is compulsively watchable, making ludicrous situations believable and turning Phoenix into a likeable character.
Riding the chaotically entertaining wave of Rob Jaeger’s performance, The Boy Toy is a very uneven but surprisingly funny and heartfelt comedy from Chris Harboldt.
