The film opens with Lily, eyes brimming with tears, as she texts her indifferent “boyfriend” who carelessly calls her by another woman’s name. You want to shake her, tell her to stand up for herself, block him, anything—but instead, she just replies, “no problem” with a smiley face. This small yet telling moment immediately reveals who Lily is: a chronic people-pleaser, someone so accustomed to disappointment that she swallows her hurt with a forced smile. It sets the stage for the kind of emotional journey the film is about to take us on.
Inspired by writer-director Tracie Laymon’s real-life experiences, Bob Trevino Likes It follows Lily (Barbie Ferreira) as she searches for her estranged father, Bob Trevino—only to end up forming a connection with an entirely different man of the same name. Her biological father, Robert “Bob” Trevino (French Stewart), is emotionally detached and self-absorbed, viewing women as accessories to his own ego. His indifference toward Lily makes it painfully clear that she is no exception. As if that weren’t enough, Lily’s mother—struggling with addiction—abandoned her long ago, leaving behind only the wreckage of broken family ties.
Then comes the gut punch: Bob cuts Lily off completely, not because of anything she’s done, but because of his own mistake. Their relationship, like everything else in his life, is something he treats as transactional—discarded the moment it no longer serves him. It’s a brutal moment, one that highlights the film’s core themes of abandonment, self-worth, and the desperate search for belonging in a world that so often fails to give it.
Outside of her father, Lily’s life is anything but ideal. She carries the kind of trauma that could bring even a seasoned therapist to tears, worn down by the emotional lashings life has dealt her. Isolated by choice or circumstance—perhaps both—she has no family, no real friends, and spends most of her time either alone in her room or chasing after a father who refuses to care. Her only real connection is through work, where she serves as a caretaker for Daphne (Lauren Spencer), a spirited young woman with a disability. Despite Lily’s guarded nature, Daphne attempts to forge a real friendship beyond their professional relationship, gently pushing against Lily’s self-imposed solitude.
Everything changes when Lily stumbles across another Bob Trevino on Facebook. Bob #2—the kind one—is played by John Leguizamo, a construction contractor devoted to his wife, Jeanie (Rachel Bay Jones). The couple is childless, having endured the devastating loss of their baby, leaving Bob adrift in a life that now feels like it’s merely passing him by. When Lily sends him a friend request, he’s initially perplexed, later confessing to Jeanie that “a lonely young woman befriended me on the internet.” But there’s something about her—an unspoken connection forged not just through their shared surname, but through the loneliness they both carry.
Laymon’s choice to set their connection on Facebook is deliberate. In an age where Instagram and TikTok dominate, Facebook feels like an artifact from another time—one that reinforces both Lily’s social disconnection and the raw, unfiltered nature of her online presence. She isn’t curating an aesthetic or chasing clout; she’s simply shouting into the void, hoping someone, anyone, will hear her.
What begins as a virtual friendship soon transcends the screen, leading to real-life meetings and genuine moments of joy. In Bob, Lily finds more warmth and kindness than she ever received from the man who fathered her. But when it’s revealed that Lily has been telling people Bob is her “new dad,” he panics, drawing a painful boundary: “I am not your father. I am nobody’s father.” The heartbreak is mutual, yet ultimately, they reach an understanding—just because he isn’t her biological father doesn’t mean he can’t be something meaningful in her life. Their relationship evolves into something even more profound: a chosen family.
The emotional weight of Bob Trevino Likes It rests heavily on its two leads, and Barbie Ferreira and John Leguizamo rise to the occasion with performances that are equal parts tender and deeply affecting. Ferreira, in particular, delivers a revelation of a performance, blending her sharp comedic timing with a raw vulnerability that makes Lily’s journey all the more compelling. If something on that Euphoria set unlocked a new depth in her craft, it’s on full display here—every fiber of her being is poured into this role. Meanwhile, Leguizamo brings a quiet strength and warmth to Bob, making him an easy character to love, even as he wrestles with his own grief. Together, they create something beautiful—an anchor for one another in an ocean of loneliness. “I befriended a stranger on the internet so I could feel like I had a family like everyone else,” Lily confesses. It’s a devastating truth, but one that makes their bond all the more poignant.
Bring tissues. Bob Trevino Likes It is the kind of film that sneaks up on you—heartfelt, quietly profound, and deeply moving. It’s a story of loss, love, and the unexpected places we find family, told with the kind of honesty that lingers long after the credits roll.
