FILMS OF THE MONTH
62 | Sight&Sound | May 2020Reviewed by Nikki Baughan
The Assistant is a film that provokes a visceral
physical reaction; the churning of the stomach,
the gritting of the teeth, the white-knuckle
gripping of a seat edge. It has malevolent
monsters and horrified victims, and hums with
a palpable sense of threat. It is, without doubt,
a horror movie. Yet, while writer/director Kitty
Green’s sensitively made yet hard-hitting feature
debut plays out in a dark, cold world full of secrets,
lies and isolation, hers is no nightmarish fantasy
landscape. Instead, she deftly – and devastatingly- lays bare the fears that come with being made
to feel like a voiceless, helpless, insignificant
woman in an aggressively male environment.
Here, that woman is Jane (a phenomenal
Julia Garner) – perhaps deliberately intended
as a Jane Doe, an everywoman, although her
name is barely mentioned on screen – a hard-
working young assistant in a fast-paced New
York entertainment company. Each morning,
Jane arrives before the sun, and anyone else, to
get the office ready for the day. Her fixed, sullen
expression as she waits for the coffee to brew in
the darkened break room and hurriedly eats two
bites of cereal over the sink, is the first indication
that she may not be happy in her work.
As the day progresses, we see why. Jane shares a
small office with two (unnamed) male colleagues
(played by Jon Orsini and Noah Robbins) who,
when they are not ignoring her, routinely speak
over and belittle her. Menial, degrading tasks,
such as scrubbing the office sofa and placating
her boss’s furious wife over the phone (an
awkward situation which comes with aggressive
consequences for Jane), fall to her alone.
Jane’s boss, who occupies the room next door,
is an unnamed but obviously high-powered
producer with a booming voice and a short
fuse. We never see his face. We don’t need to: the
shadow of his influence seeps into every corner of
the office. Everyone is scared to put a foot wrong
in case they lose this so-called “opportunity
of a lifetime”. Fawning email apologies for
perceived slights are regularly demanded.
This day, however, is different. (In truth, it
plays out much the same as any other; but for
Jane, its impact is seismic.) It begins with the
arrival of a new, attractive young assistant, Sienna
(Kristine Froseth), who Jane is instructed to
deliver to a local hotel; her boss then disappears
for several hours. When they learn of his absence,
a group of high-level executives simply roll their
eyes and take his meetings; they are, it’s clear,
well-versed in the language of cover-up, and as
worried about keeping their jobs as everyone else.
Genuinely fearing for the girl’s safety, however,
Jane makes a trip to HR to voice her concerns.
And it’s here, in this brisk yet brutal across-the-
desk scene between Jane and treacle-voiced, laser-
eyed HR manager Wilcock (Matthew Macfadyen),
that The Assistant lays bare the heart-shattering
truth: even when you find your voice, it’s often
impossible to make it heard. Jane’s halting,tearful attempts to explain her boss’s troubling
behaviour to Wilcock are systematically derailed;
first by his pseudo-concerned insistence that she
is mistaken, then by his questioning of her own
character and motivations, and finally by outright
threats to her burgeoning career. “We could use
more women producers,” he sneers. “So why are
you in here, trying to throw it all away for this
bullshit.” As a lone, inexperienced voice she is
helpless against such systemic abuse of authority- and they both know it. “I don’t think you have
anything to worry about,” is his knock-out punch:
“You’re not his type.” Beaten, Jane returns to her
desk and silently types out an apology to her boss.
But this is a film that takes its shape, and
finds its power, in these moments of silence.
It would be a grave mistake to assume that
every feature which deals with #MeToo and
the likes of Harvey Weinstein (who clearly had
a huge influence on the narrative, though it is
described as an amalgam of many experiences)
should be a call-to-arms, a battle-cry against
oppression. Here, Green presents something
equally valuable; a recognition of the reasons
why it often takes so long, and the efforts of so
many women, to bring sexual abusers to anything
resembling justice. It’s an acknowledgment
that putting your head above the parapet, your
voice on the record, is terrifying; to do so in such
a toxic environment, to rail against a system
that has always been rigged against you, takes
near-superhuman courage. Many individual
battles are lost before the war can be won.
The specific details of this narrative are not
as important as its tone of insidious iniquity,
which Green nails with ferocious authenticity.
Drawing on her background in non-fiction
(Ukraine Is Not a Brothel, 2013; Casting JonBenet,
2017), she brings a low-key, documentary-
style observational approach, with the focus
firmly on Jane. Crucially, Jane can be always be
trusted in her assessment of events – her boss’s
noxious behaviour is never in doubt – and
her response is entirely understandable given
the situation in which she finds herself.
Garner is astonishing, taking a 180-degree
spin from the outspoken Southern firecracker
she plays in the Netflix series Ozark (for which
she rightly won an Emmy). As Jane, she has a
reserve, a poise that we come to realise is her
battle armour; her clenched jaw and downcast
eyes are her weapons against each awful day.
Occasionally cracks appear – a brief, emotional
phone call to unsuspecting parents, that soul-
destroying HR meeting – but Garner mostly
keeps the volcano of feeling bubbling just under
the surface. She, like the film, positively vibrates
with unspoken anger and bitter resignation.
Cinematographer Michael Latham (Casting
JonBenet and Gabrielle Brady’s haunting 2018
documentary Island of the Hungry Ghosts) expertly
follows Garner’s lead, keeping his camera low,
stalking through grubby, gloomy corridors.
Framing is claustrophobic; we never know what
may lie around the corner. Music is as sparse as
the muted colours. Like Jane, we feel trapped and,
as the credits roll, there are no swelling chords, no
relieving sense of justice or change. Indeed, the
greatest strength of The Assistant is that it forces
us to understand how easy it is to turn the other
way, to become complicit, because it’s impossible
to do anything else. It demands that we pay
attention to those who are brave enough to take a
stand; that it is up to all of us to amplify individual
voices that would otherwise go unheard.
We never see Jane’s boss’s face.
We don’t need to: the shadow
of his influence seeps into every
corner of the office. Everyone
is scared to put a foot wrong
USA 2019
Director: Kitty Green
Certificate 15 87m 18sWhat inspired you to make a film about
the issue of the abuse and exploitation
of women in the workplace?
When I was releasing my last film [Casting
JonBenet], I kept getting questions from
journalists who doubted whether I was
creatively in control; things like which of my
male producers make the decisions. I kept
thinking, ‘I worked so hard to make this film,
and nobody thinks I’m actually in charge.’ Then
I started looking at the systems and structures
that keep women out of positions of power,
and became interested in the micro-
aggressions and small details that
often get ignored or overlooked.
And through this story of
an assistant that works
for a predator, I could
explore everything I was
interested in thematically,
from gendered work
environments through
to sexual misconduct.
The film’s focus is entirely
on Jane; we never see her
boss, although he casts a
long shadow over the office.
Why did you make that decision?We’ve had enough stories about those men. I
really wanted the audience to sense how much
power he has over that workplace, but I didn’t
want anything too graphic. I think we all know
what happens behind those closed doors now.
To me, what happens on the other side of that
door is more interesting. I also wanted any
woman [in whatever profession] to be able to
relate to the character and her experiences.
It’s a film with no resolution, no sense
of justice. Was that important?
I spoke to a lot of women who felt they were
trapped, and so if it had ended on a
positive note it would have been
false. Also, the film is set
before the rise of the MeToo
movement, before we had
the language to talk about
this stuff. And if we want
to improve things moving
forward, it’s not just about
getting rid of Harvey
Weinstein. We need to
have conversations about
power and who has it, how
to make sure our workplaces
are more fair and equitable.
by Nikki BaughanQ&A Kitty Green, director
The Assistant