Over the past two decades, there have been certain filmmakers who have adhered quite strictly to the concept of being independent, embodying the spirit of remaining true to their original vision and not daring to pander to the mainstream. With the exception of a couple of quick deviations as a screenwriter on studio films, Alex Ross Perry has admirably stayed true to his roots, directing only small-scale, intimate films born of the filmmakers who inspired him. While most will consider works like Listen Up Phillip and Queen of Earth as his most major pieces, his earlier films are just as intriguing, especially since they were made long before he was an established name who managed to work with several very impressive collaborators. The Color Wheel is not only a contender for his most fascinating early film, it is quite possibly his greatest work overall, with this quaint dark comedy about a pair of estranged siblings setting off on a road trip to retrieve belongings from the home of a former lover being one of the most ambitious pieces of cinema produced in the last few decades, which is as surprising an assertion to make as it may be to read. However, what Perry does with this concept (which inarguably sounds like the foundation for nearly half of the mumblecore comedies that were produced around this period) vastly outweighs any expectation, in terms of both the ideas that he is exploring and how he executes some of the more peculiar elements. Not a film that those who enjoy their stories having clear justifications for its characters actions, or any discernable conclusion that adheres to known logic, The Color Wheel is quite an achievement, a compelling and maniacal dark comedy handcrafted by a director with a wicked sense of humour and just enough visionary prowess to convince us to undergo this journey with him – and while it is never going to appeal to everyone, for those who can leap onto Perry’s wavelength, there’s very little doubt that The Color Wheel is nothing short of a worthwhile experience.

The question that every viewer will inevitably ask about The Color Wheel will be about getting to the root of what this film means, as well as some of its more unconventional means to sort through what is revealed to be quite an intimidatingly large set of ideas. Essentially, this film is 80 minutes of dialogue between primarily the two main characters, with a few interludes where other individuals come into frame and contribute to the broader discourse. It functions as a series of vignettes following the characters of JR and Colin over what is roughly a two-day period as they journey through an indeterminate part of the country (implied to be somewhere in New England, most likely Vermont due to some of the filming locations), their conversation being steered from resolving a bitter feud to a more profound examination of existence as seen by two individuals who are united by a shared family connection, but divided in nearly every other way. From the start, we can immediately sense that there is a level of importance underpinning The Color Wheel that is not made abundantly obvious, but rather comes through in the quieter moments, when we can see the outrageous humour slightly shifting to make space for a bit more meaning to seap through into the conversation. What follows are discussions that may seem banal at the start, but eventually start to introduce some fascinating and resonant themes, with seemingly every major philosophical concept having a place in the casual conversation between these two overly-zealous misanthropes. Whether it be the concept of sexuality and identity, which these characters continuously question, or more concrete themes like familial bonds and the process of falling in love and maintaining a relationship (or rather the plausibility of such a concept), there is something of value in every moment of this film, which centres itself squarely on condensing several complex discussions on existence into a relatively compact space. It is this kind of existential philosophy that has made Perry such a captivating filmmaker, since he has always been able to infuse these conversations with a sense of humour that prevents them from being overly verbose, and instead gives them a feeling of eccentricity that makes us feel oddly enamoured with this story.

However, as compelling as the film may be, The Color Wheel is not a project that ever seemed to be interested in the concept of comfort in any conceivable way. In fact, there isn’t a moment in this film in which the word “awkward” would not be the most appropriate description. It is an objectively very funny film, but a lot of its humour comes from the sense of discomfort that exudes off the screen. It is not “cringe humour” (a hopelessly frustrating sub-genre that has emerged in recent years), since it is not intended to briefly repel us, but rather establish a sense of foreboding danger, the kind that sits with the viewer far longer than it perhaps should, which is where the film is most effective. Discomfort is a very powerful artistic tool, and Perry certainly knows how to use it well throughout all of his films. It was more dramatically utilised in later films, but as a comedic element in The Color Wheel, it is just as useful. There is not a moment in this film where we feel anything less than utterly bewildered, especially when the story starts to veer in the direction of certain concepts that are the definition of taboo, skirting the boundaries of controversy in a way that would be considered shocking if it wasn’t executed with such panache, which is why Perry is such a deceptively brilliant filmmaker. Who else would be intrepid enough to make a film that is essentially the story of estranged siblings getting to know one another and resolving long-standing tensions, only for it to end with implications that they start an incestuous relationship, as if carnal desire is the ultimate goal for any individual? However, he does draw a very clear distinction between what he believes is useful as a narrative tool and what he genuinely believes is worthwhile subject matter for his films. The feeling of inescapable dread is all part of the experience, and Perry makes sure that we are well-equipped with it as we undergo this peculiar journey into this bizarre relationship.

The Color Wheel also features a rare instance of Perry acting, something that he would cease to do as he gradually started to welcome more established performers into his circle of collaborators. However, despite his own reluctance to act, Perry is a skilled performer, and he plays the part of the bitter, caustic brother with a suitable level of cynicism that suits the character exceptionally well, especially in the moments when he is highlighted and we receive glimpses into his own mental state, which is a fascinating but rare occurrence, since the film is logically more invested in the character of JR, who is played brilliantly by Carlen Altman. Much like Perry, Altman was not a professional actor (although she did have slightly more performance experience than he did, and thus was positioned as the de facto lead of this film), but if there was any doubt that some of the most effective performances are those that come from unexpected sources, it can be found here. She is simply a revelation – one of the most undeniably hilarious, off-the-wall performances committed to film in the past two decades. Her portrayal of this young woman trying to find her place in the world is just spellbinding. Naturally, it is a performance that does hinge quite significantly on the audience’s ability to forge a connection with the character (and she is not particularly likeable as a whole), but Altman is so charismatic, this should not be a problem for even the most cynical of viewers. She radiates a chaotic energy that is truly infectious, and she captures our attention with every movement and detailed expression, perhaps more than such a seemingly simple premise may have deserved. This is undeniably her film, and every moment she is on screen feels like a major moment, which is quite an achievement for someone who seemingly has never been all that interested in pursuing a more steay career in acting, choosing to instead perform more sporadically in smaller productions, such as The Color Wheel, which makes the best use of her extraordinary and unconventional talents.

The Color Wheel is a film constructed almost entirely from the bizarre details that would be elided from a more mainstream film, cobbled together and thrown at the audience in the hopes that some fraction of it may find value in these deranged but oddly captivating ramblings. Perry is a strange filmmaker, since he has continiously produced work of an impeccable calibre, and has flirted with entering the mainstream on numerous occassions (which is especially notable, considering the vast number of independent directors that manage to make their way into getting bigger budgets and forming strong relationships with studios as Hollywood has become more receptive to independent filmmaking as a whole in recent decades), but who has maintained his status as someone who intends to march to the beat of his own drum, which means that his interests sit squarely with telling stories that interest him, a common pattern if you look at all of his films. As a whole, The Color Wheel is a remarkable achievement – a truly dark comedy that pushes boundaries to the point where the viewer is beyond uncomfortable, yet still wants to be immersed in this world, anchored by two very strong performances that are deeply realistic and evoke that natural style that many independent comedies tend to pursue, but to very little avail. It has its moments of pure brilliance, and it does take some time to fully realize some of its themes, but it is mostly an enthralling, captivating and bitingly funny satire that is not afraid to go to some very dark places, since it is well-aware of the fact that there is always potential for new ideas to sprout from even the most banal conversations – and he proves it here, with The Color Wheel being 80 minutes of outrageously funny but deeply thought-provoking commentary that offers us everything we didn’t ever think we may need, but which feels so essential when coming from this unconventionally enlightening philosophical masterpiece.