A look at the day in the life of the assistant to a powerful corporate executive.
Kitty Green does a remarkable job saying volumes with very little in her debut feature, “The Assistant.” A searing examination of the corporate workplace — and the prejudice, sexism, and apathy that comes with it — “The Assistant” gradually seeps under your skin, digging its way into your soul. Anyone who’s ever worked at a corporate conglomerate will instantly recognize a plethora of minute details: the monotony, the lack of human connection, the power struggle, the claustrophobia, the arrogance, the unspeakably disgusting boss who may be in the next room yet is never seen. Green views it all from a slyly sardonic, but also mournful perspective — those drones form the backbone of our current society. The fact that it may be even worse in the creative industry (I speak from experience) makes it that much more disheartening — and the film that much more affecting.
Green is wise in keeping it simple. Gurgling, tumultuous waters lie underneath the still calm surface. Jane (Julia Garner) is a Northwestern University graduate, harboring the dream of becoming a film producer one day. The filmmaker traces a day in Jane’s dank office, where she is “lucky enough” to get a job as an assistant to an invisible boss. The man constantly commits infidelity, says cruel things to her — a Weinsteinian aura is built around this dark figure. Jane also shares the office with two male assistants (Jon Orsini and Noah Robbins), who generally ignore her, when they don’t throw rolled-up paper bags at her, bitch her out for wrong lunch orders, and use her a scapegoat for highly unpleasant phone calls.
Jane finds out that another assistant, Sienna (Kristine Froseth) has been hired, a provincial waiter from Idaho with no experience but killer looks. Those looks instantly propel Sienna into a luxury suite — a luxury Jane has never been offered — and get her a desk across from Jane. Is Jane jealous, or concerned about the young girl’s well-being? Perhaps a little bit of both.
Regardless, the injustice leads Jane to confront Wilcock (Matthew Macfayden, brilliant), in a scene that marks the highlight of the film. Brash and crude underneath the veneer of understanding and sophistication, Wilcock dutifully notes down Jane’s futile little attempt to right a wrong in his scribble pad, before laying down the law to her. Her complaint will lead to nothing except her being fired, there are 400 other applicants vying for her exact position, and what the hell does she want him to do anyway? He even twists the situation around: who is Jane to advocate for a woman she barely knows? Who is she to assume superiority by assuming a sexual act may have been — or will be — involved; just because Sienna’s from Idaho does not mean she doesn’t have integrity.
Jane walks out of the office, shaken and beat down. To reassure her a bit, the invisible boss sends her a nice email. It’s an ouroboros-like situation we’ve created for ourselves, imprisoning ourselves in cages, wherein our basic instincts are unleashed, guided by the rules/regulations we ourselves created. One starts off naive and freshly-baked, and then, as they climb up that ladder, the naivety is shed, replaced by corrosion and a demented ego. This chain of power trickles down: the bosses are assholes to their assistants, who in turn are assholes to their subordinates, who will one day become assholes too.
It’s a quiet, minimalist, but observant film: not a single shot is wasted or stretched too long. There’s a faint hint of a smile on Jane’s face when she gets that nice email from her boss. Will she go on working here, reassured by the intermittent positive reinforcement, casting a blind eye to the dreadfulness around her? One can only hope she does not become a drone like the rest, harassing her own assistant in the future.
In Theaters Friday, January 31st
