Upstream Colour, 2013.
Directed by Shane Carruth.
Starring Shane Carruth, Amy Seimetz and Andrew Sensenig.
SYNOPSIS:
Shane Carruth made Primer back in 2001, with post-production taking an enormous amount of time. It eventually debuted at the Sundance Film Festival in 2004, becoming one of that year’s standout films. It’s a brilliantly constructed mess, a story about time travel that reflects its disorientating nature. Carruth’s aim was to convey how confusing time travel would be in practicality. As a result, Primer needs at least five back-to-back viewings before any sense can be made of it.
Nine years it takes for Carruth to make Upstream Colour, only his second feature film. In the meantime, another project was dashed, and (to show how respected he is amongst his peers) Carruth acted as a ‘time travel consultant’ on Rian Johnson’s Looper.
Like it’s predecessor, it’s near impossible to summarise (see: synopsis, above). On a very, very reductive level, Upstream Colour is seems to be about the loss of identity. The film begins with a young boy discovering a method of mind control, which involves pouring water again and again over specially-sourced maggots. What makes them special is never explained. Whether it is actually mind control is never confirmed. It’s all impressions, half-thoughts in a dream.
There’s something innocently endearing about finding magical qualities in an act so specific and obscure like the mind-control maggot, a process never even partially explained. It recalls youth. Mine, when I was a child, was a poorly constructed pyramid. I believed each side of the pyramid would absorb the essences of either wind, water, fire or earth. Inside I placed my father’s razors, thinking the mystical combination of the elements would eternally renew its sharpness. It was based on nothing but pure imagination. And if you think that’s going off on a tangent, watch Upstream Colour.
Grown up (you presume), this boy hides one of the maggots in a pill, and gives it to a woman, Kris (Amy Seimetz). Now under his influence, he slowly strips away her identity with a series of strange, mundane experiments. She’s made to copy out entire sections of books and laugh at paintings as though they’re reruns of Friends – all wholly obedient. At one point, he says his head is the Sun. Kris blocks her eyes with her hand. Then he robs her; personality, money and all.
This is all within the opening half hour. The remainder, from what I could piece together, involves Kris rebuilding her identity – initially reluctantly, but then together with Jeff (Shane Carruth), a man affected by a similar loss. Oh, and it seems their personalities are somehow implanted in and twinned with their own personal pig in a mysterious farm. Of course.
But it is ‘of course’. The owner of the farm, listed only on the IMDb as The Sampler (Andrew Sensenig), is an amateur audio effects artist. He records the identities of people like he samples the sounds around him. He can dip into any of the pigs’ twins’ lives at will, unseen and unheard, nosing around like a curious, benign God. Or maybe an alien. Or maybe an insane scientist. For some reason, it all makes sense. Not on a surface level. That’s ridiculous. But somewhere higher, deeper. Nothing is given away in this film. Like Kris and Jeff piecing together their identities, we assemble the film, and our crude, half-completed puzzles are all the more profound for it.
Like an album, is how Carruth wanted Upstream Colour to be absorbed, going back for repeat listens, sometimes even right after the first experience, understanding and uncovering more each time. The film affected me so intensely, that most of the above is from hours of daydreaming since, obsessively reading others’ interpretations, hunting down texts mentioned in the film and listening to Carruth’s own interviews.
It’s a fitting metaphor, not just because of The Sampler’s habits, but also because of Carruth’s approach. He directed, wrote, acted in, wrote the score for, edited, produced and shot Upstream Colour. Like Dave Grohl on those early Foo Fighters’ records, Carruth played ’em all. And, as much as a ‘collaborative’ effort film will always be, it’s difficult to imagine a more complete realisation of the ‘solo’ effort than what Carruth has mastered. Incredible.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★
Oliver Davis (@OliDavis)
Originally published May 7, 2013. Updated November 28, 2022.
