Dir. Jarrah Gurrie
Two minutes and thirty-six seconds is all director Jarrah Gurrie needs to communicate the battle between love and loss. Simple and direct, Gurrie does not waste time with gratuitous shots or unnecessary coverage. Pedro Andrade, the heart broken lover and the film’s only actor, takes paint intended for the walls and outlines a male figure on the bed sheets. When complete, Andrade spoons his painting as the ultimate gesture of longing. The loud, campy dramatics of Queer cinema are not found in “The Companionist”; Gurrie fearlessly upholds a more subtle and quiet display of emotion. The body, depicted in hot pink, solidifies the romance as Queer and passionate.
Gurrie, as a director, reminds the audience that in order to make a film beautiful it doesn’t need to be lavish. The set is minimal, the actor doesn’t have any lines, and the music is relatively basic. There aren’t any special effects. The use of lighting is delicate and natural. And yet the film carries a bold message about the complexities of masculine identity: for men, often stuck in the gender box of blue, pink can be the color they use to express joy and pain.
Andrade’s display of mourning is quiet and it is done alone in his bedroom. This window into his character is subtle, but also noteworthy. Men are often encouraged to be discreet with their pink emotions, but Gurrie shows the audience how stoicism is a heavy burden to carry. Gurrie picked a humble, intimate method to display a gay man who is grieving the loss of his lover. While this is honorable, Queers shouldn’t always nurse our love wounds alone. The Companionist is most definitely worth a look, or two.
Reviewed by T. Nova
One Comment
I think this is a remarkable and subtle film that conveys emotion without a lot of effects. The pink paint dripping from the brush is beautiful. We need more films like this one. Bravo.