Upstream Color

There’s little doubt that Upstream Color marks a huge leap forward for filmmaker Shane Carruth, as the film, though consistently inscrutable, has been infused with an almost hypnotically cinematic feel that proves impossible to resist and hooks the viewer from the word go. The narrative, which has something to do with the off-kilter romance that ensues between Carruth’s Jeff and Amy Seimetz’s Kris, boasts a decidedly impenetrable feel that is, for the most part, simultaneously frustrating and exhilarating, with Carruth’s emphasis on head-scratching elements ensuring that one is never entirely sure just what’s going on – yet, by that same token, it becomes increasingly difficult to resist the pull of the film’s dream-like atmosphere (which is perpetuated by Carruth’s lush visuals and haunting score). The writer/director’s puzzle-like sensibilities go a long way towards elevating even the most mundane of sequences (eg Jeff and Kris’ initial discussion about childhood memories devolves into something far more ominous), and it’s subsequently clear that the movie’s mysterious atmosphere only grows more and more compelling as time progresses. By the time the riveting final stretch rolls around, Upstream Color has confirmed its place as an unusually engrossing cinematic experiment that far eclipses the potential (yet disappointment) of Carruth’s first effort, 2004’s Primer.

***1/2 out of ****