The Golden Hues of Film

Written by Duaa Zulfiqar

Graphic by Quynhmai Tran

So often we find it difficult to be satisfied in a world where the unknown remains a mystery. It’s easy enough to merely voice our content, convincing ourselves that ignorance truly is a blissful state of being, but truthfully, how can we be so forward and make these claims, if movies still exist?

At the basic level, movies have often been categorized as a mode of entertainment, however, it is unrealistic to assume that film is solely for the viewer. The filmmaker themselves arguably reap far more benefits, as they are able to suspend rational thought and explore their deepest personal desires. In labeling ourselves human, we accept the fact that the majority of our lives are lived desperately searching for satisfaction, indulging in anything that can bring us even remotely close to fulfillment. On account of this, the filmmaker cannot help but explore the avenues of their own curiosity, taking full advantage of any method that may bring them closer to unearthing their endless inquiries. Some indulge themselves in research, others observe communities unlike their own. However, the bold filmmaker uses this storytelling method to visualize the hypotheticals of their own lives. They live out their subconscious fantasies using a medium that requires them to appoint stand-ins. Stand-ins that could potentially look the way they want them to look, whose sole purpose is to act out the storyline they are given by their creator. How else can we figure out whether or not our longings our valid if not to live them out, even if it is through the use of other people?

We yearn to know what happens in our futures, decipher how our past experiences have affected us, and dispute whether or not we are making the right decisions in the present. There is nothing more uneasy of a feeling than the thought that our lives are futile, as we helplessly submit ourselves to the unknown. This is the life that the filmmaker refuses to live. They cannot help but address the “what ifs” that infect their brain. What if we became everything we wished to be? What if there existed a world where subjectivity was the basis of all thought? What if we could do the impossible and time travel? With these questions in mind, it becomes apparent that every single frame serves a distinct purpose, as the viewer cannot disregard the filmmaker’s use of sound, dialogue, or even color. While the former techniques are imperative in how the viewer perceives the film, color is undeniably the most noticeable. Each color is coded to represent a specific emotion. If the viewer were to be presented with the color red, they would say it represents anger and power, the color purple represents fantasy and allurement, pink romance, and yellow childhood. Think about how films play with the dichotomy between adulthood and childhood, often flashing back to our younger days with noticeable jump cuts. When bright, fluorescent white and blue shades harshly drench the screen, we cannot help but become nauseated at the extreme starkness of the image. The moment the director snaps back to a memory, flashback, or a depiction of the character’s youth, there is an apparent color difference. The filmmaker has grown accustomed to planting specific associations, as yellows and golds are reserved as colors of innocence and what once was. They symbolize far-away memories, so long gone they might as well be dreams. One would even describe these memories as “fuzzy.” When we think yellow we think warmth. We think about endless summers and sticky weather, laughing with our friends until there is no air left to breathe. But then suddenly, it becomes so far away that we question whether or not our memories happened or if they are fantasy. The representation of our childhood in the media does not just make us feel seen, it tells us how to feel. When we think about movies and color theory it is apparent that we have been conditioned to feel a specific way: aspirational

To be aspirational is a privilege, as too often we succumb to the overwhelming feeling of apprehension we associate with the future. However, there is one stage in our life in which we were able to aimlessly enjoy this feeling: childhood. Daydreaming about what the future may hold is the defining characteristic of childhood that keeps the young mind afloat. This tell-talegolden-hue has served as the background for a multitude of coming of age films, but Sean Baker’s The Florida Project goes as far as to create a new lane. Upon its release, it was expected to garner much attention at awards shows such as the Oscars, but to the audience’s dismay, it was snubbed in the major categories. It is argued that The Academy wasn’t ready for this, as the movie told the story of an underprivileged community, a community that lacks mainstream representation. Was this a genuine overlook on The Academy’s part, or were they actively refusing to explore a film with a more sensitive subject matter? This is the question viewers prompted the film association to ask themselves.

The film follows a young Moonee, who lives with her mother, Halley, in a city just on the margins of poverty. A cruel twist of faith has left this neighborhood in the shadows of Disney World, leaving another idealized world to dream about. What’s interesting about this film is that Baker chooses to tell this story primarily from the perspective of the motel’s children. As a result, the entire movie has been painted golden with purple undertones, to highlight how the children perceive their world as one giant playground. The reddish hue suggests to the viewer that there is more than what meets the eye, as Baker strategically communicates to the audience that although the visuals may tell us one thing, reality suggests another. We miss our childhood regardless of how bleak it may have been, and we can not help but romanticize it. This movie, in particular, stayed with me as it explored the innocence of childhood without compromising reality. The sadness stems from our own perceptions, as mundane adult life is a normality, but Baker suspends this reality, not because he does not acknowledge it, but because Moonee and her friends do not. Their worries do not line up with their mothers, as they are more considered about whether or not the local bright pink donut shop is open that week. This is the unsung power of color that Baker has tapped into. On the surface, it seems as though this is an innocent story that follows the adventures of a group of mischievous children, as they navigate the only world they know.

However, he chooses to supply a more idealized view because that is the association he designates with childhood.

It is apparent that color plays a significant role in the viewer’s perception of not only the film but their approach to life. To willingly accept these associations presented in film says a lot about our outlook on growing older. To look back at our childhood with such fondness and accept the nauseating prospect of adulthood tells us how much we fear the unknown.

What if we instead answer this question: does our fear of adulthood stem from genuine apprehension or have we been conditioned to think this way because of the media?