Writer-director Tracie Laymon’s semi-autobiographical Bob Trevino Likes It is about the unlikely friendship that bloomed out of an unexpected friend request. Euphoria alum Barbara Ferreira stars as Lily Trevino, a young woman whose happy-go-lucky demeanor hides demons so brutal that her therapist (Ashlyn Moore) is reduced to tears during their very first session as she shares her life story. Lily has been kept under the thumb of her vindictive father, Robert (French Stewart), ever since her drug-addicted mother ran off. After a lifetime of being told how worthless she is, Lily finds it difficult to believe that she matters at all.
Bob Trevino Likes It’s brutally funny opening sequence lets us know just how deep Lily’s damage goes as she receives a lusty text from her boyfriend, addressed to a completely different woman. She types out a series of rightfully furious all-caps responses only to delete them and reply instead with a pleasantry and a smiley face. It’s one of many moments in Laymon’s dramedy that will leave the viewer uncertain as to whether they should laugh or cry.
Everything changes when Lily goes searching for her father’s Facebook page and ends up connecting with another Bob Trevino (John Leguizamo) who lives nearby. He turns out to be everything that her father isn’t—a kind, patient man who wants nothing more than to teach her life skills, listen to her problems, and generally look out for her. And their relationship is good for him too, helping him to work through a family tragedy of his own.
Bob’s integrity is so unmistakable that his relationship with the much younger Lily never feels unsavory. Ferreira is just like the puppy that Bob will eventually encourage her to adopt—so full of happy energy that she practically vibrates, and so eager to make everyone else happy too. Naturally, then, she’s stunned whenever that friendliness isn’t reciprocated, and the stricken look on her face is as heartbreaking as a canine whimper.
On the other side of things, Robert is the perfect yang to their yin. This complete and utter bastard has a way of insulting Lily and then playing the victim; he immediately retreats into either self-pity or pure venom at the gentlest pushback from his daughter. Stewart makes you believe that this is the sort of behavior that could only be coming from a man who’s been acting this way for years without ever being called out for it—the sort of man whose bitterness runs so deep that the viewer can’t imagine him ever changing his ways.
In fact, everyone’s future seems pretty much locked in from the moment Bob first hits that “like” button. He and Lily form a life-altering relationship with minimal fuss. He gives her everything she needs from a father figure and, with his support, she slowly gains the strength to stand up to her actual father. There are never any real miscommunications or missteps along the way. Indeed, theirs is an oddly linear, untroubled journey for two people who are trying to recover from severe traumas. It doesn’t feel quite true to the messiness of hurt and healing, and the ease of it all robs Bob Trevino Likes It of some of its emotional authenticity.
Which isn’t to diminish the film’s very powerful moments. After Bob and Lily meet for the first time, he discovers that she’s been passing him off as her father to others. Bob is understandably taken aback, and after asking her to explain herself, Lily has a complete meltdown. She’s convinced that he’ll never want to see her again and feels furious at herself for ruining a good thing so quickly. After all, her father always told her that she would drive good people away.
But Bob quickly reassures Lily that he won’t be going anywhere, and it’s like the whole world stops. The camera pushes into Ferreira’s dazed face, the sound of Bob’s voice fading into a Charlie Brown-style mumble as Lily tries to process the fact that, for the first time in her life, she’s not going to be abandoned. Bob Trevino Likes It is perhaps too gentle for its own good, but that only makes moments like this shift with seismic force.
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