MovieChat Forums > Aleksandra (2007) Discussion > What is it with those goddamned desatura...

What is it with those goddamned desaturated colours?


This and that desperately tedious pair of Clint Eastwood films. Who decided that various shades of brown was the official colour scheme for war movies?

I’m pretty sure that, however dusty military camps in Chechnya may be, the sky there is blue rather than khaki; and also that the colours of the Russian flag had are red, white and blue, not faded rust, cream and mildew. The arrogance of the director, thinking he has the right to expect people to sit through an hour and a half of such hideous colours! Why are we willing to put up with it?

Either shoot in colour, or don’t, but at least go one way or the other. This half-hearted I-want-to-use-black-and-white-but-the-distributors-won’t-let-me is just an affront to everyone’s eyes.

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Go watch Bad Boys 2 :D

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But I don’t need to. I could go watch pretty much anything else at all, and get a more pleasing colour scheme.

I still resent it, though, that should I want to watch this film in particular, I have to put up with such horrible colours. Nobody should have to do that.

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Oh come on. Kieslowski uses the most horrible colours possible in A Short Film About Killing, and it's still a brilliant film. I actually quite like the desaturated look, and I'm obviously not alone. 1984 uses it beautifully, as, in my opinion, did this film. The film wouldn't have been the same in black and white, or, for that matter, natural colour.

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I haven’t seen A Short Film About Killing, which may well be “a brilliant film”. But if you’re right and it really does have “the most horrible colours possible”, then it’s a less brilliant film than it might have been – that much is undeniable. Deliberately ugly colour photography is one of those things we just shrug our shoulders and accept nowadays, the way we just accept hideous architecture and excess packaging. What I want to know is, why do we accept these things?

I suspect you really are about the only person who does like the colour scheme, if indeed you do, about which I have my doubts. Fair enough if you like desaturated colours, but you can’t really like them this desaturated.

I admit my faith was a bit shaken when I searched through movie reviews to see if I could find anyone else claiming to like the colours. I sort of did. I didn’t expect to find anyone complaining about them: It’s considered gauche to pick on a movie with an unpleasant subject matter for being unpleasantly made in any respect, and even gaucher to complain that the colours in any movie should have been richer than they are. Anyone who thinks this way tends to keep their mouth shut. What I was expecting to find was a studious avoidance on the subject of the colour scheme, and to an extent I found this: most critics didn’t mention the matter, which is a telling omission, given that it’s the film’s single most notable feature. But I also found people supporting you with various pieces of spurious sophistry, such as:

The color strategy of the movie is part of its effect. …Brighter colors would add vitality to the base, but that would be wrong. The point is that for the soldiers, it's a dead zone, life on hold, a cheerless existence. [Roger Ebert]

No one understands the effectiveness of muted colors like Sokurov, and "Alexandra" is perhaps his most effective use to date. …By removing the rainbow, Sokurov reminds the viewer just how joyous color can be. [Jay Weissberg]

Sokurov makes no artificial attempts to brighten his film. The camp, the surroundings and even the costumes are bathed in gray, with hardly a flash of color in the entire film. Or in the bleak Russian world we see. [Boo Allen]


…The last comment is comic: would it be an “artificial” attempt to brighten the film, to simply expose and process the film stock correctly? It’s the muting that’s artificial.

But you notice the theme: Sokurov must make the colours look ugly – that is, although these critics don’t quite say so, deliberately make his film worse than it would otherwise have been – to more effectively make a point – no better reason than that.

I’m not sure that war’s ugliness can best be conveyed this way. (We distance ourselves if we can’t look without our eyes watering; we think things like: “Well of course it looks ugly if you over-expose the image and leave the film to curdle in a bog for a month; so would any footage of anything.”) But even if okurov is making his point as effectively as he possibly can, this is just to concede that the film gains effectiveness as propaganda, by losing value as art.

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All filmmakers use techniques to express ideas, moods or whatever: music, for example. What you're claiming is the equivalent of arguing that films should use the very best music at their disposal to enhance their work (let us suggest for argument's sake that Radiohead is the best band in the world). Yet, this argument would ignore the fact that 'lesser' music than Radiohead might simply suit the film better.

Same with colour. You seem to claim that every filmmaker should use the full beauty of natural light and colour schemes in every film - yet, there are obvious examples of black and white cinematography enhancing a film. Can you imagine Eraserhead in colour? It's indisputable that it would have been inferior.

A director should use every tool at his disposal, and if that means using desaturated colours to convey a mood, then great. As Ebert quite succinctly and simply points out in the quote (spurious sophistry? Really now?), the colour helps convey one of the main themes of the film. I don't see why you find this so offensive, or why you feel that there is no place for experimentation at the very least. Personally, I find Sokurov's colour usage in this film quite pleasing to the eye, it suits the film well, and frankly, if you want natural light, you can find that in 99% of mainstream films out there. Sokurov is one of the most interesting and unique directors working today, and I admire his willingness to use unusual techniques, let alone his ability to use them successfully.

As for your last sentence, one could argue that all art is propaganda, when you think about it.

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What you're claiming is the equivalent of arguing that films should use the very best music at their disposal to enhance their work (let us suggest for argument's sake that Radiohead is the best band in the world). Yet, this argument would ignore the fact that 'lesser' music than Radiohead might simply suit the film better.
That’s an excellent argument against “what I’m claiming”. It’s silly to suppose the films should use the very best music at their disposal to enhance their work; it might then be the same piece of music in everything, and it wouldn’t always fit. I quite agree.

But that that’s not what I was claiming.

More analogous to what I’m really claiming is that filmmakers should never use bad music. The job of the composer or whoever is to find music that “fits” – which amounts to achieving many different things – and is, at the very least, is not painful to listen to. If a film’s end can only be served with a soundtrack of bad music – not just less-than-the-best-ever music, but positively bad music – then the film’s end is unworthy of being served, and the film should not be made.

And I’m not even quite claiming that. Bad music can also serve a worthwhile purpose, although the only one I can think of at the moment is that of parody or satire: we see character X playing or writing or listening to wince-inducingly lousy song Y, in order to let us know what an utter philistine character X is. And I suppose it’s also possible that a stretch of bad music can be used to torture the audience in such a way as to enhance their pleasure of a good bit later on, by way of contrast; I don’t think this ever is a worthwhile purpose, but I’ll admit it might be.

In any case, the use of bad music for these limited ends is still a cost. It’s something to be compensated for. The benefit conferred on us by sitting through bad music had better be worth it, and it had better be something we could not get any other way.

Ugly cinematography is like bad music, except that it’s hard for a film to be wall-to-wall music in the way that most films are wall-to-wall cinematography. If a film has ugly cinematography throughout, that’s a strong pro tanto case against the film, and the justifications that might be available in the case of bad music are unavailable here.
As for your last sentence, one could argue that all art is propaganda, when you think about it.
You have Orwell on your side: “All art is propaganda; however, not all propaganda is art.” But Orwell doesn’t argue for this proposition and I can’t see what arguments can be made. It’s hard to see how non-representative art, for instance, could possibly be propaganda. I prefer the converse claim: “All propaganda is art; however, not all art is propaganda.” Doesn’t sound as profound, but at least it’s closer to the truth.

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Returning to the music analogy, I think this film's cinematography is better compared to "lesser music that fits" than "bad" or parodic music. I think a filmmaker could quite easily deliberately make the cinematography look bad, for example, by using a handheld camera and placing it in the hands of someone who works for MTV, or by using such atrocious contrast that you can't make much out whatsoever. Or, a filmmaker could simply be completely incompetent. I don't think you could argue either about Sokurov - his previous films show that he is far from incompetent, and I don't think you could argue that the cinematography in this film is that "bad" or "ugly" anyhow.

Anyhow, "bad" is kind of subjective, which gives this whole debate a sense of futility. You disliked the colour scheme, and found it useless, whereas I liked it and found it apt and even beautiful. Similarly, I hate self-conscious handheld camerawork with a passion, yet some people love it. I think the main thing is that Sokurov must have liked it, and a significant enough percentage of viewers liked it to make it worthwhile. If you disliked it, then by all means state as much, but at the same time acknowledge that those who disagree with you are not simply spouting spurious sophistry, but genuinely like it as much as you dislike it.

As for the last paragraph, I guess this comes down once more to our perception of art, and personally, I must admit that I believe "true" art does have some kind of meaning, however obscure it might be. If it is nothing more than random splatterings of paint, or meaningless collections of colours, eg Blue Poles, I must admit I find its claim to being art somewhat tenuous. Regardless, my point with propaganda is that it's a loaded word that in fact can be applied to most, if not all, art forms. If propaganda is nothing more than trying to make a point of some kind, and using art to enhance your point, then propaganda is a much dirtier word than it should be.

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If propaganda is nothing more than trying to make a point of some kind, and using art to enhance your point, then propaganda is a much dirtier word than it should be.
I understand “propaganda” to have a narrower meaning than that – based on its origins as a term to describe Catholic apologia: something designed to “propagate” the faith. Propaganda, on my view, is something designed, not merely to express, but to propagate, a particular worldview.

But even on your ultra-broad construal of “propaganda”, much art isn’t propaganda. You mentioned Jackson Pollock paintings – which like them or not, are certainly art; the most obvious counterexample, though, is music.
If you disliked it, then by all means state as much, but at the same time acknowledge that those who disagree with you are not simply spouting spurious sophistry, but genuinely like it as much as you dislike it.
I’m not sure I can in all cases. The critics I quoted didn’t say that they liked the images, or considered them to be beautiful; rather, they considered the images to be drab, but offered some theoretical justification for this drabness (war itself is drab, the images match the subject matter, etc.). It’s this theoretical justification I claim to be spurious. Many of the critics who defend the film’s look don’t think it’s beautiful any more than I do. They’ve just trained themselves to believe that uglier is sometimes better. On this point I disagree.

And while I concede that there are probably some people somewhere who really do like the way the film looks, I’m sceptical of any particular person who claim to do so. Some claims are too implausible to be viewed without scepticism. If you tell me that you do fifty push-ups every morning, without fail… well, I know this doesn’t violate any law of physics, and I’m sure some people really do do fifty push-ups every morning without fail; but you can understand why in any particular case I suspect the claim is an exaggeration of the truth.

Or, a filmmaker could simply be completely incompetent. I don't think you could argue either about Sokurov - his previous films show that he is far from incompetent…
I don’t think he’s incompetent. Just misguided – in the same way, and for the same reasons, that the critics who defend him are misguided. He thinks, as they think, that unpleasant subject matter is best represented with unpleasant images – and he’s wrong.

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OK, I got him to own up. He said he did it deliberately to pi$$ you off.

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I'm still surprised i read something of interest on IMDB...

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I didn't like the desaturated colors either. But frankly they were about as good as the movie itself. There were parts i liked, but honestly? I couldn't wait for it to end. It just got tedious.

The best parts of the movie were the old lady's expressions.

Grade: C+.

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I'm way late to the conversation, but I recently watched the film and wanted to chime in. I happen to agree with you, Spleen. Part of the reason I have for a long time loathed desaturation is because it's such a cliché. And as a cliché, it can't tell me anything truthful anymore. Clichés prevent viewers from discovering truth; instead they are received truths for viewers to swallow.

Since the date of this thread, 8 years ago, the cliché has not just continued, but expanded. It's everywhere.

A kissing cousin of the kind of desaturation in this film is the kind that takes away all but shades of blue for those supposedly neo-noirish urban crime dramas. A dime a dozen. "War / the city / modern life is hell." Okay, got it.

A desaturated palette / "gritty realism" are incredibly easy. "Bleak" is no trick at all. It demands zero imagination. And that means it doesn't reflect insight. This choice isn't distinctive, inspired from within, but merely a worn-out external norm grafted onto the film. It's no different than choosing clichéd dialogue or choosing a clichéd narrative.

The choice to use the cliché is damaging because it doesn't only signal that the director is uninspired; lack of inspiration also implies that he or she may well lack insight. Colour is one language in film; desaturation is removing most of the words available, which can be okay, but this has become the reflexive go-to way of treating this language, which renders it merely an impoverished norm.

As a received truth, desaturation is not commented upon itself; it's taken for granted as "bleak." It oppresses the characters in a blanket way. But there is no nuance to it, and little power because there is no sense of loss, no small contrasts. Compare: "When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang / Upon those boughs which shake against the cold."

A film like this asks viewers to accept that the director has some wisdom about the world to share. Imagine if you were to visit his home and found it decorated with plastic flowers and black velvet paintings and dollar-store knick-knacks. Confronted by this clichéd environment, you would naturally be skeptical that his sensibility was keen enough to offer much insight.

A cliché is all-purpose, generalized, reductive. When I see a fictional world treated with "gritty realism" / desaturation, I immediately assume that the filmmaker will think in clichés in other ways too. They may have some insight to offer, but as far as I'm concerned, as a viewer, they are on the defensive right from the start, when I should be most open to them.


"You must not judge what I know by what I find words for." - Marilynne Robinson

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