A film that is not a film. It looks more like one of those allegorical tales that the ancients told each other around the fire, and which had the ultimate aim of providing community members with the tools - cognitive, emotional - to cross the forest and return home alive. Poetry, to put it bluntly, is born like this. Here, Upstream Color is placed in this wake, that of metaphor and metonymy, of allegory and simulacrum, because it tells something that is actually something else but above all something beyond. As in Primer, here too the level of narration is articulated, complex, difficult, at times inaccessible - but there is no presumption or sterility in Carruth: as for Lynch, for him too the complexity of the staging is bent to the requests and to the needs of the story, there is no trace of arrogance, or at least I haven't seen any. And I felt challenged, tested, disoriented, lost, rediscovered, abandoned, alone but above all sunny, because there is so much light in Upstream Color. This type of film has always fascinated me. There is only one thing I ask of art, in each of its manifestations: overwhelm me. Submerge me, pass through me, make the earth collapse beneath my feet, tear the sky apart and make every universe collapse. And that's what I try to do every time: make the film (or the book, the painting, the sculpture, etc.) my own. I don't like explanations and captions, I instead adore ambiguity, opacity, darkness, "the vague and the indefinite" (Leopardi), because like Verlaine I want "shades only, not colour". But what is Upstream Color? What story does it tell, and above all "how"? It is a story of worms and pigs. Of blue flowers and rolling stones. I believe that it is a reflection on the incessant dialogue between partiality that we are and the totality to which we aspire. It is a film aboutRead all
A man and woman are drawn together, entangled in the lifecycle of an ageless organism. Identity becomes an illusion as they struggle to assemble the loose fragments of wrecked lives.
Roberto Flauto 
