Samarth Thapa

*The Lighthouse* (2019) is a haunting psychological film set on a desolate island where two men, Thomas Wake and Thomas Howard, are tasked with maintaining a lighthouse. The movie's black-and-white style and cramped aspect ratio give it an old-fashioned, claustrophobic feel, making the atmosphere tense and unsettling. The sounds of the wind, crashing waves, and the blaring foghorn add to the sense of isolation and madness. At the core of the movie is the intense, almost father-son-like dynamic between the two men. Wake, the older lighthouse keeper, controls the light at the top of the tower and keeps Howard away from it, as if guarding a secret. This creates a clear power struggle. Wake acts like a strict, overbearing father figure, while Howard resents him but also becomes increasingly obsessed with the light, like a son yearning for something forbidden. This Oedipal theme is deepened as Howard seems to want to replace Wake. He starts to follow in Wake’s footsteps, slowly losing his mind and becoming more fixated on the light. The light becomes a symbol of power, knowledge, or some kind of unattainable desire that Wake has kept to himself. Howard, like a son wanting to overthrow his father, becomes desperate to take that power for himself. In the end, the movie can be seen as a twisted story of a young man trying to break free from an older, dominant figure, only to fall into the same trap. It’s a powerful and disturbing take on the Oedipus complex, mixed with themes of madness, power, and the human desire to possess what we can’t have.

The Fantastic Planet is one wild, psychedelic ride. The animation style is super unique, and the soundtrack just hits differently—it’s perfectly in sync with the vibe of the movie. The story dives into some heavy stuff, like animal abuse, the mass murder of Oms (tiny human-like creatures), and human's endless thirst for knowledge and evolution. The film also throws out a pretty cool “what if” scenario: what if the planet Ygam, which is like an alternate Earth, was already home to a way more intelligent species before humans even showed up? It’s a trippy, thought-provoking watch that’ll definitely make you think.

Santa Sangre is a visually striking and deeply unsettling film that delves into the deep impact of parental influence on one's life. Played by the director's own two sons, the characters navigate a surreal world where reality and nightmare blend, reflecting the director's signature style. The acting and character designs are flawlessly executed, with Jodorowsky's boundless imagination brought to life by a dedicated cast. The film's mood transitions are particularly noteworthy, as serious moments, like a protest, seamlessly shift into delightful musical performances. The other soundtracks are also a treat for both ears and eyes. With its blend of horror, drama, and surrealism, Santa Sangre is a captivating and thought-provoking journey.

*The Holy Mountain* (1973), directed by Alejandro Jodorowsky, is an enigmatic, surreal journey that defies conventional narrative and invites a wide range of interpretations, much like his earlier film *El Topo*. The following review reflects my personal interpretation of this extraordinary cinematic experience. The story begins with a Christlike figure, a thief, wandering through a bizarre and symbolic landscape. He encounters a circus that metaphorically portrays the destruction of the Aztecs by European colonizers. This spectacle is orchestrated by various versions of 18th- and 19th-century world leaders and regimes, blending history with a nightmarish carnival of power and subjugation. The thief, due to his resemblance to Jesus Christ, is tricked and kidnapped by a group of people who create Christ figures. They see him as the perfect candidate for their mold. He awakens in a room surrounded by statues of himself in a crucified position, a deeply unsettling scene that evokes feelings of anger and confusion. In a fit of rage, he destroys the statues and lashes out at the statue makers, only to realize that they were merely doing what they needed to survive. This brief moment of understanding and compassion is surprisingly touching, offering a rare glimpse of human vulnerability in an otherwise chaotic world. As the story progresses, the thief ascends a tower in search of higher power, possibly a reflection of his earlier failed attempt to find solace in the church. There, he encounters a man dressed in white, who for me represents an allegory of Hindu spirituality. The man's surroundings are filled with animals and symbols reminiscent of Hindu and Sanskrit traditions, and his calming presence introduces the thief to the principles of meditation and inner peace. The man, who is revealed to be an alchemist, imparts his wisdom to the thief, who becomes one of his students. Together with seven others, each representing a planet in the solar system, they embark on a quest to find the elixir of immortality on the Holy Mountain. Each character embodies a different aspect of life, with their dark sides symbolizing the flaws and struggles inherent in human existence. I think that the Earth was represented by the thief and was missing from this cosmic gathering before, with his dark side symbolising anger (which is shown throughout the first half of the movie) The quest is not a typical adventure; it is a spiritual journey toward enlightenment and nirvana. The characters must relinquish their material possessions, identities, and even their bodies, shedding all worldly attachments in their pursuit of true wisdom. This process, depicted in a surreal and often shocking manner, challenges the audience to reconsider the nature of existence and the path to spiritual fulfillment. I won't spoil the ending, but it's worth noting that *The Holy Mountain* raises profound questions about control, reality, and the very nature of life itself. Is our existence governed by unseen forces, or is it all an illusion? These are just some of the many theories and ideas that the film explores. If you're in search of a surreal, thought-provoking experience, *The Holy Mountain* is a film that demands to be seen. It is a cinematic odyssey unlike any other, offering viewers a chance to explore the depths of their own consciousness and beliefs.

El Topo (1970) is a surreal, avant-garde journey through the wilds of human emotion and spiritual quest. Directed by Alejandro Jodorowsky, this film is a labyrinth of metaphors, exploring the protagonist's search for inner peace or nirvana. The story follows El Topo, a gunfighter dressed in black, who begins his journey as a man seeking vengeance, but is eventually drawn into a deeper, more spiritual quest. Along the way, he encounters various characters and scenarios that reflect his inner turmoil, each scenario a symbolic representation of the emotions and struggles he faces. The film delves into the corruption of innocence, as El Topo's path is altered by a woman he meets, leading him into a spiral of violence and inner conflict. Despite the dark turn his journey takes, there are glimpses that suggest he is not inherently a bad man—rather, he is a man battling his own demons, trying to reconcile his actions with his yearning for divine connection. El Topo's journey can be seen as a meditation on the human condition, and his eventual retreat into a path of self-discovery reflects his desire to find peace and be closer to God. The movie is filled with rich symbolism and multiple layers of meaning, offering viewers the chance to interpret its themes in their own way. It's a film that demands close attention, rewarding those who are willing to delve into its abstract and often perplexing imagery. For those who see it as a quest for spiritual enlightenment, El Topo is a powerful, if bewildering, exploration of what it means to seek peace in a chaotic world.

Quirky Character design, long zoom shots, great cinematography, interesting plot line, fantastic soundtrack and pitch black comedy, what a amazing movie it was. Harold and Maude (1971), Give it a watch if you want to feel good and see what living truly means.