Reel Review: Bob Trevino Likes It (2025)

“Bob Trevino Likes It” is a touching, emotionally rich drama exploring loneliness, unexpected connections, and the power of kindness.

Forget zodiac signs. Some films move me so profoundly and meaningfully that they become my personal litmus test for how much I’m likely to vibe with someone. Do you describe the moody and atmospheric folk horror as boring? Are you quick to dismiss sincere sentimentality as schmaltzy? Maybe we’re not cinematic soulmates.

That’s ok, of course. All opinions are valid; after all, what is film criticism but personal bias cloaked in the language of film literacy? Yes, all opinions are (theoretically) valid, but some opinions just feel more correct than others, don’t they?

As for my opinion, the real-life-inspired Bob Trevino Likes It is a heartwarming, life-affirming masterpiece, and I’ll struggle to entertain opinions to the contrary.

It’s the kind of film that destroys you… in the best way possible. And after it’s over, you feel somehow transformed, permanently altered by the indelible imprint on your heart. Am I being bombastic? Sure. Yet, as I write this in the teary-eyed aftermath of an emotional tsunami, subtlety seems inadequate.

Let’s back up a bit so I can tell you about this moving story of found family.

Barbie Ferreira is Lily Trevino, a lonely 25-year-old woman living in a small town in middle America.

She doesn’t have much going for her, but she has a good heart and great intentions.

Still, a recent breakup and betrayal have shaken her to her core, so much so that she is finally seeking some long-overdue therapy to make sense of her heartbreak and feelings of abandonment. We learn that Barbie has a habit of putting everyone else’s needs above hers, making excuses for despicable behavior, and assuming that most things are inevitably her fault.

The person she sacrifices herself the most for is her miserable, deadbeat dad, Bob Trevino (French Stewart). A selfish narcissist, he seems positively incapable of being there for Lily in any real way, oblivious to her pain or how alone she feels.

While briefly running through her pitiful life story—without an ounce of self-pity or melancholy—her counselor-in-training (Ashlyn Moore) ends up sobbing. Lily rushes to comfort her and apologizes profusely for being such a buzzkill.

After Lily innocently ruins one of her dad’s dates by confusing her for one of the many other women he’s casually courting, he blows up at her like a child and cuts off communication—even cruelly unfriending her on Facebook.

Desperate to win back his love and approval, she attempts to friend him again and sends him a sweet photo as a peace offering.

Only Lily has friended the wrong Bob Trevino, connecting instead with a kindly and introverted older man (John Leguizamo) who’s struggling with his own feelings of loneliness and heartbreak.

Shocked that someone wants to interact with him, the other Bob likes her message.

Slowly, the two begin to correspond innocently, finding something in each other they didn’t realize how much they needed.

Bob begins to feel like the father Lily so desperately needs, a far superior alternative to her actual monstrous parental figure. Eventually, the two meet in person, and their friendship blossoms beautifully and organically.

The bond they share is never romantic or in any way untoward; Bob is deeply devoted to his wife Jeanie (Rachel Bay Jones), though there’s a pervasive sadness and emotional separation in the home due to unspeakable tragedy.

As a result, Bob needs someone as much as Barbie does.

Ferreira is devastatingly good as Lily.

It’s genuinely a tour-de-force performance.

She’s endearingly loveable and remarkably full of light and love despite a lifetime of tragedy and being repeatedly failed by everyone around her.

When she smiles or laughs her infectious laugh, she does more than light up a room; she heals your heart, if only for a short while. But when she breaks, the emotional purge sweeps you up in its anguished tide.

She’s so sunny and sparkling that it’s easy to forget how broken she is and how desperate she is for a bit of love and compassion. When you’re reminded, it’s the kind of blow that knocks the wind out of you.

Likewise, Leguizamo is at his career best here. His character is authentically tender and thoughtful in ways that reduce both Lily and the audience to a sobbing mess. There’s a scene involving a trip to the pound inspired by one of Lily’s more heart-wrenching childhood memories that made me tear through a box of Kleenex.

In fact, the film made me cry a lot, but not in a manipulative or superficially saccharine way.

Every beat feels entirely earned, and every interaction feels genuine and resonant.

That’s probably because writer-director Tracie Laymon based the film on her own experience, and she crafts these characters from a place of such love that it’s nearly impossible not to feel everything on a visceral level.

A year ago, at the 2024 edition of SXSW, it won the Grand Jury Award and the Audience Award in the Narrative Feature categories. Despite that level of prestige and early fanfare, it almost certainly won’t get the attention it deserves now that it’s receiving a limited theatrical release.

That’s an absolute crime, as it’s undoubtedly one of the most moving and profoundly affecting films I’ve seen in some time.

As I mentioned, get ready to cry… a LOT. But you’ll laugh just as much. And, unless you’re made of stone, you’ll find comfort in the warm fuzzies, reminding us that even the most broken souls can find salvation in the kindness of strangers.

The ending is as close to cinematic perfection as you can get, and I’m still trying to recover from it.

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, seek out and watch this film.