Starring Thure Lindhardt, Zachary Booth
Directed by Ira Sachs
In charting a troubled relationships careening course through a decade of tumult, the latest feature from writer-director Ira Sachs ultimately reveals itself to be a protracted coming-of-age story.
When Erik (Thure Lindhardt) is first glimpsed in 1998, the struggling filmmaker is trolling phone sex lines in search of a casual encounter. He eventually finds precisely what hes looking for and more than he bargained for in Paul (Zachary Booth), a closeted literary agent. Two years later, the men are living together as a couple. In the ensuing eight years, Pauls peccadillos casually smoking crack, for instance give way to wanton self-destruction and outright cruelty.
Given that Erik and Paul are modelled on Sachs and his former boyfriend Bill Clegg, its unsurprising that Erik should take centre stage. However, Sachs depiction of his surrogate is commendably clear-eyed and occasionally scathing. Early on, someone chides Erik, In your twenties, its charming to be up-and-coming. In your thirties, its pathetic. Undoubtedly, there is something pitiful about Erik at the narratives outset. His clinginess and petulance are decidedly childlike, as is his stubbornness. However, as that latter attribute slowly evolves into a more dignified resolve, hes finally afforded the opportunity to mature as both an artist and a man.
Sachs unadorned shooting style and Arthur Russells folky score conspire to lend Lights a timeless quality. Likewise, the unnervingly intimate film tells a universal tale about how self-reliance can sometimes only be forged amidst hellish co-dependence and dysfunction.
