From old myths woven through new images to familiar stories made specific, what a weekend to head out to the movies.
First up, The Lighthouse:
There’s a bit of Hemingway in the way director Robert Eggers tells the tale of The Lighthouse. From masculine relationships to the ability to weave old myths through new images, Eggers presents The Lighthouse as a long-lost artifact. Jarin Blaschke’s black and white cinematography is stunning, as is the constricting 1:19 aspect ratio, further isolating Winslow. Only the seagulls are there to keep him company. Wake believes each gull is the reincarnation of a deceased sailor. Be this purgatory? Possibly.
Sitting atop this desolation is a glistening beacon of light. Winslow is never allowed near the light — Wake forbids it. Yet, like a moth to the flame, Winslow cannot deny his attraction. The Sufi mystic Mansur Al-Hallaj used a similar metaphor for describing God. For Al-Hallaj, the beloved was a flame that would engulf him and quench his spiritual thirst. Yes, a death sacrifice must be paid. Such is the cost of enlightenment.
Now, The Assistant:
She lives in Astoria, but she works in the City. That means the company car picks her up long before the sun has a chance to crack the horizon. And like most administration assistants, she’s the first in, last out, day after day. Her job: Print the day’s schedule, hand out the lunches, mix up her bosses’ protein shakes and scrub out those unsightly stains on his couch. Written and directed by Kitty Green, The Assistant is about Harvey Weinstein. Maybe not in name, but certainly in spirit. The mogul — heard, but never seen — owns two offices in one of Manhattan’s tonier districts, another in Los Angeles and one in London, and everyone but his assistant (Julia Garner), seems to know what he’s up to. None of them approve, but everyone is complicit.
More in this week’s Boulder Weekly.