The Unbreakable Boy (Christian Movie Review)
The film struggles at times with an uncertain narrative focus and tonal identity, but it is elevated by excellent acting performances and an uplifting story about healing and finding beauty amid life’s storms.
About the Film
In the last decade, the Erwin Brothers (founders of Kingdom Story Company and The WONDER Project) and director Jon Gunn (Jesus Revolution, Ordinary Angels) have become influential figures within the ever-expanding faith-based entertainment landscape. It is perhaps due to their growing public profile that The Unbreakable Boy, a project that wrapped filming in 2020, is finally getting a theatrical release. Though the film struggles at times with an uncertain narrative focus and tonal identity, it is elevated by excellent acting performances and an uplifting story about healing and finding beauty amid life’s storms.
Based on a 2014 memoir, The Unbreakable Boy tells the story of Austin, a young autistic boy who is diagnosed with “brittle bone disease” (Osteogenesis imperfecta), and his parents’ struggle to care for him while keeping their own lives from falling apart. On the surface, it’s the type of story that feels ripe for adaptation as a faith-based film, and in some ways it takes the conventional, predictable approach. Viewers will find tear-jerking drama and explicit church influences to tick off on their faith-based film bingo card. Yet the movie’s authenticity elevates it above that base level. It’s an inspirational story, but not necessarily a “feel good” one, at least not in a superficial sense. Fear not, it has a “happy ending.” But it is brutally raw and honest in its depiction of the hardships the characters endure along the way to that satisfying destination.
Consistent with its overarching message about the unpredictable ebbs and flows of life, the film’s tone finds itself in a tug-of-war between a whimsical coming-of-age family story and a more serious adult drama. There are moments of exuberant playfulness, such as when the story is told from Austin’s point-of-view and viewers are transported into his delightfully vivid imagination filled with cartoon dragons and people flying through the clouds like superheroes. But when not shown through Austin’s eyes, The Unbreakable Boy is an almost unrelentingly heavy film in which characters rarely have time to exhale before they are hit with a new hardship. The whimsical moments will appeal to younger viewers, but the rest of the material may be too emotionally heavy or adult-centric for The Unbreakable Boy to work as a traditional “family film.”
While the script sometimes struggles to strike a balance in its tone, it succeeds where many similar films—including Jon Gunn’s own Jesus Revolution—fail: it allows the drama to unfold organically. There are a few heavy-handed “message” moments, but the dialogue is surprisingly crisp, demonstrating a commendable willingness to leave dramatic moments and narrative tension unresolved. Gunn doesn’t fast-track characters’ growth in ways that undercut the authenticity of those achievements. In its exploration of both marriage and parenting, the film aptly reflects the messiness of real life rather than trotting out Hollywoodized clichés.
Working in the film’s favor are some powerful acting performances. Jacob Laval is great as Austin, a challenging role for a young actor. But Zacchary Levi and Meghann Fahy (playing Austin’s parents) do much of the heavy lifting. Due to films like Shazam! and Harold and the Purple Crayon, Levi has become typecast in the “silly man-child” role, but this film demonstrates that he boasts a wider dramatic range. Fahy gives a nuanced performance and serves as the emotional anchor of the story.
If the film is lacking in some way, it’s that it doesn’t provide Austin enough of a spotlight to demonstrate the blessings that result from the “curse” of his conditions. He opens the film as a narrator, but the focus quickly shifts to his parents. Since they struggle for most of the film to understand Austin, he is mostly portrayed as a burden rather than a blessing (an understanding they ultimately adjust by the film’s end). While Austin represents a rare hero for children with autism (or any other unique condition), the emphasis on his parents’ hardships may do more to discourage rather than to empower such viewers.
Overall, despite some rough edges, The Unbreakable Boy is a heartfelt and enjoyable story. It explores delicate subject matter, so there will inevitably be some viewers who find its handling of the topics unsatisfactory. But it seems to have its heart in the right place. Perhaps because I fall into the target audience as a dad of children roughly Austin’s age and because I have several young relatives on the autism spectrum, The Unbreakable Boy may be one of the recent faith-based films I’ve enjoyed most. It reminds us that life is difficult, and we are all broken people, but healing is possible, and there is joy to be found in even the most unlikely places if we open our eyes to see it.
For Consideration
On the Surface—(Profanity, Sexual content, violence, etc.).
Language: A couple profanities, including “d—,” and “a—,” as well as several uses of “God” in various contexts. A character repeats the word “retarded” several times, and Austin frequently uses the word “flipping” (“I flipping love that,” “It’s flipping awesome,” etc.).
Violence: Two children have a fistfight. Later, a child chokes another around the neck.
Sexuality: Austin is born out of wedlock, and his parents live together for some time before getting married.
Other: Austin’s father struggles with alcohol abuse for much of the film.
Engage The Film
Brokenness and Healing
Austin’s bones are brittle and prone to frequent breaks, but The Unbreakable Boy reminds viewers that “all have sinned and fall short of the Glory of God” (Romans 3:23). In one sense, Austin is perhaps the least broken of the story’s characters. Both of his parents are clearly damaged. They bear internal wounds from painful upbringings and feel crushed by life’s unexpected hardships.
The film’s theme is visualized through a metaphor of a teacup. During a low point in his life, Scott—Austin’s father—is instructed by his mother to drop a teacup on the floor and break it. Collecting the broken pieces, she says something to the effect of, “Is this you right now? This is all of us. We’re all broken.” Later, Scott repairs the cup by way of Kintsugi—a Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold to bring beauty to an item’s brokenness and imperfection. It embodies the film’s message that as imperfect, fallen beings, brokenness is unavoidable. But beauty is forged by putting the pieces back together.
Some of that healing process occurs when we take personal responsibility for our actions, as Scott does. But the movie also emphasizes the importance of relationships and “struggling together” within the context of a family or a church community. Although not explicitly stated, it is also clearly implied that Scott’s transformation has a spiritual component, as he comes to rely on God rather than merely blaming him during life’s storms.
