Carruth’s sophomore feature possesses a Nolan-meets-Malick vibe, done in an impressionistic indie style, as an inscrutable sci-fi romance plays out across time, memories and bodies.
Review #2,767
Dir. Shane Carruth
2013 | USA | Drama, Mystery, Romance | 96 min | 2.35:1 | English
PG (passed clean)
Cast: Amy Seimetz, Shane Carruth, Andrew Sensenig
Plot: A man and woman are drawn together, entangled in the life cycle of an ageless organism. Identity becomes an illusion as they struggle to assemble the loose fragments of wrecked lives.
Awards: Won Special Jury Prize – Dramatic (Sundance)
International Sales: Visit Films
Accessibility Index
Subject Matter: Moderate – Love; Time; Memories
Narrative Style: Slightly Complex
Pace: Slightly Slow
Audience Type: Slightly Arthouse
Viewed: MUBI
Spoilers: No
It took me a while to be moderately convinced by what Shane Carruth was doing in Upstream Color but having said that I think I enjoyed his previous Primer (2004) more.
His debut feature, a modern cult sci-fi, possessed a kind of raw authenticity that gave it an unsettling edge as two engineers discover the ability to manipulate time.
With Upstream Color, the nature of time remains an important theme though it is situated in a larger, all-enveloping story about a romance between a man (played by the director himself) and a woman (Amy Seimetz).
Jeff and Kris both lived lives that were wrecked to some extent until they found each other. Carruth eschews a sappy tone for an impressionistic one—there’s a great deal of montage work as narration is overlaid about memory and the ephemerality of existence.
“That was smart… to wait to tell me.”
The vibe is very Nolan-meets-Malick, but make no mistake, Upstream Color is as inscrutable as Primer, and similarly done in a low-budget indie style, though in a decidedly more polished way.
This is a film that you would need to ‘feel’ its frequency rather than rationalise its plot. It is no surprise, therefore, that part of the narrative involves bodies of organisms—humans, pigs, worms—that communicate with vibrations.
There is an uncanny feeling that with a bigger budget, Carruth’s work could have been a body-swapping sci-fi love story. Who are we? Where do we go? How do we be? These are age-old questions of identity and purpose, expressed with a unique lyrical grace, though I didn’t find myself surrendering entirely to its charm.
Grade: B
Trailer:
Music:
Eternality Tan 