Upstream Color

Last night I sat utterly entranced and engulfed by Shane Carruth’s tiny indie film fever dream, Upstream Color. Much like Carruth’s first and only other feature film, the cult sensation Primer, Upstream Color forces you to sit down, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. There’s no explanation, no certainly, no familiarity – Carruth immerses the audience in a state of reinvigoration. There’s nothing like Upstream Color. If the film were a court case, its lawyers would fail to argue its point, because there’s simply no precedent for it.

To describe the plot of the film would be to damage the central appeal of this work of art. How do you describe something you don’t merely observe, but rather, experience? It’s possible, sure, but not nearly as fun as encouraging people to become exposed to it themselves.

In a grand sense, Upstream Color is about finding yourself. It’s about waking up and realizing you have no idea who you are. It’s about putting the pieces of a puzzle together, while those around you support and/or refute your efforts. The film is, essentially, about Kris, a young, career-driven woman (Amy Seimetz) who experiences something unexpected and horrifying, and wakes up not remembering a thing. With her life ruined and emotional state collapsed, she meets young lawyer, Jeff (Carruth) by chance, and the two form a timid relationship based on mutual heartbreak and understanding.

But things aren’t what they seem – they never are in Carruth’s warped world. Kris is haunted by what she’s endured. And we gather quickly that Jeff is plagued by something similar. The two tell stories from their respective childhoods, but have trouble remembering whose stories belong to whom. Kris hears piercing, constant sounds that keep her awake, while Jeff lets his anger, which seems to come from nowhere, intermittently get the better of him. The two struggle to make sense of their relationship and, more importantly, the mysterious circumstances that brought them together.

Similarly to Carruth’s Primer, the director took on a vast array of duties for Upstream Color. In addition to acting in and directing the film, Carruth is credited as the film’s (…deep breath) writer, producer, music composer, cinematographer, co-editor, sound designer, marketer, and sole distributor. All are significant, but the final two may be the most intriguing. Basically, by Carruth instilling himself as the film’s distributor, he has been involved with every step of this film’s process. From the original idea to the way in which people see it. You hear a lot of directors complain about how their movie poster is clichéd in Photoshop hyperbole, or how their film’s trailer is in no way indicative of the final product. Well, that’s because, more often than not, those directors don’t have a say in the marketing and distribution of their films. The people forking out the money do. It is Carruth’s desire to do things differently.

In story form, he drafts ideas that have never been broached. He formulates concepts that are unique and, when put together, create a fluctuating yet puzzlingly connected film. As an editor, Carruth’s cuts are fluid and non-liner, but with a palpable confidence; a sophistication, if you will. His color palette is cold and over exposed, but always fitting. His acting is subtle, enraged, and tender (with serious help from Seimetz, a fine independent filmmaker herself, who, in Upstream Color, delivers what is easily the best acting performance I’ve seen so far this year.) Carruth’s music is eerie yet distinct, like a fruitful collaboration between M83 and Cliff Martinez. And his marketing is restrained and appropriately teasing.

Upstream Color was released in select theaters last week and will be available on Blu-Ray and DVD May 7. I’m fortunate enough to live within walking distance of a theater currently showing it, which reminds me of a funny story. On Sunday’s Mad Men, Don Draper took his son to see the original Planet of the Apes. When the film was finished, Don’s son stared curiously at the screen and, after a brief conversation, the two chose to stay and watch the movie again. Upon exiting the theater last night, I sat in my car, perplexed and amazed. After a few moments, as if by instinct, I walked back into the theater and watched the movie again. That’s something I’ve never done before.

If Terrence Malick, Steven Soderbergh and David Lynch had a brainchild together, it would look, feel, and resonate like Upstream Color. It’s as original and certain a film I’ve seen in the past decade, one that I’ll support and promote as much as possible from the confines of my keyboard.

I’ve heard a lot of talk recently about the current state of cinema. About how the studios run the show – money trumps art, creativity is dead. Upstream Color, however, is the antithesis of that philosophy. It proves that with talented collaborators and a whole hell of a lot of creative drive, one can achieve true greatness. Cinema isn’t dead, my friends. If Upstream Color is any evidence, the art form is alive and well and ready to be embraced. A+