West Columbia is probably not a city on your travel plans, but director Christopher Bickel is dedicated to showcasing the artistic community that exists there. In my post-screening Q&A of Pater Noster and the Mission of Light, he mentioned that it was easier in a way, because all the artistic types in a place like West Columbia naturally gravitate towards each other. Instead of trying to universalize, Bickel leaned into showcasing his favorite spots in town. He also enlisted the help of local artists for the soundtrack, and many of them cameo throughout the film. Who said you needed to be in LA or NYC to find a thriving scene?
According to Bickel, he first got the idea for Pater Noster and the Mission of Light after perusing his local thrift store and finding a Ya Ho Wha 13 vinyl. For the uninitiated, Ya Ho Wha 13 is infamous for their connection to the Source Family cult, and the original 70s pressings of their music are so sought after that resale prices can reach up to $500 or more. To the right person, this is a legendary thrift score, and clearly, Bickel is that person. One of the most memorable locations in the film is Max’s (Adara Starr) room, filled wall to wall and ceiling to floor with various vinyl records. The real life inhabitant of that room? Bickel himself.
Pater Noster is like The Holy Mountain as a summer camp slasher. Though filmmakers like Anna Biller (The Love Witch) appropriate the style of 70s exploitation and deliver a facsimile to be scrutinized through a modern lens, Bickel doesn’t intend to make an exact copy of that era. Our story and characters are squarely in the present, a generation nostalgic for a time that they’ve only experienced through cultural artifacts. The result is a cautionary tale for the modern fanatic, where the virtues of seeking obscurity and novelty can also be a curse. Max’s obsession with the Mission of Light cult and their music, to the point of traveling to their ultra-secretive commune in hopes of finding the last record needed for her collection, is emblematic of a temperament that may have been indoctrinated to a cult in the past. In our skeptical society, the replacement for joining a cult is to become a scholar of the cult instead.
To the practitioners of the Mission of Light, there is no difference between a fan and a fellow brother or sister in spirit as they gleefully initiate Max’s friends into their eternal life rituals – they haven’t had visitors in years after all, so they must feast on this buffet of fresh spiritual energy. Contrasting with the pacifist nature of this new age hippie religion, the kills are cruel and gory, tailored to each of the character’s perceived transgressions in true religious fanatic fashion. The special effects showstopper is a demonic baby that has seemingly been carried by one of the sisters for as long as the cult has been around, revealing what the Mission of Light’s “reverence” for mothers truly means.
Though most people’s biggest collecting regret will never be as bad as Max’s, we must remind ourselves that collections are ultimately still a pile of things. Bickel, a collector himself, interrogates what the line between genuine community engagement and mindless consumption is, and if we’re not careful, these communities can cannibalize just as much as they enrich.
Goodbye to the Mission of Light, real life awaits us.
You can stream Pater Noster and the Mission of Light on Night Flight, and order the Blu-ray, digital copies, and other goodies on their Indiegogo page.
