Thanasis Neofotistos’ long-in-the-making debut feature is a haunting, mythic allegory that’s rich with atmosphere and formal conviction.
A cursed teenager dreams of escape in Thanasis Neofotistos’ folkloric debut feature, The Boy with the Light-Blue Eyes. Set in a remote Greek mountain community governed by superstition, it follows Petros (Giorgos Karydis), a sullen adolescent forced to wear protective goggles by his domineering grandmother and anxiously-devoted mother. The official explanation is that his eyes are dangerously sensitive to light. The real reason, whispered through the village like scripture, is far older and crueler, is that Petros’ pale blue eyes carry the evil eye.
Shot over twelve years, Neofotistos builds the world of this film with an impressive tactile force. The landscape is vital not decorative, with rocky paths, misty swamps, hanging charms and mountainous horizons to give the feeling of a folk tale half-remembered from childhood. The sound design is suitably oppresive, especially the constant whoosh of a nearby wind turbine which comes to resemble a warning siren, or some ancient curse returning through modern machinery. The film is also strikingly claustrophobic as Neofotistos keeps the camera pressed close to his lead actor, refusing us the spatial release we crave. It makes sense as an expression of Petros’ own suffocation, building and deepening our connection with him as the story progresses.
Get more Little White Lies
Where it lands hardest is as a queer allegory. Petros’ bond with Aemon (Pablo Soto) brings tenderness into a world of inherited fear, making his “curse” play like a metaphor for difference in a community built on conformity. Yet the film is wise enough not to flatten itself into a single meaning. Is this supernatural horror, Greek tragedy, or all just a projection of Petros’ terror? Its best moments exist in those subtle ambiguities.
