Rating: 5/5
What is the color of lust? The color of sex with a stranger? The color of greed? The color of poison — the place you refuse to let your mind go?
Red, pink, green, yellow
And what do you do when the world turns gray — the walls the fruit at the stand, the people in the streets. What do you do when the world grows still, envelops in fog, loses focus? Where do you look? How do you live? Aren’t they the same question?
Perhaps what we call sickness is just the alienation we feel in an industrial wasteland — where meaning is assigned to work and you are between things — where children’s toys are erector sets, lab equipment, models of factories — where the waters of your childhood are no longer blue, and the rocks that looked like human skin are no longer singing — where there is one too many mysteries to solve and the lack of answers is intolerable
You could try to take your own life, only to survive with the stigma hovering over you. Or you could jump aboard a boat, only to find that they don’t speak your language. Or you could walk with your child through the factory smog, only for him to see the same yellow that you see erupting from the stacks
I wanted to end on a positive note, but this movie is a bummer. I can understand why after this, Vitti told Antonioni to fuck off and do comedies. Find your community, the world needs you here!