“No art worth a damn was ever created out of happiness”
For those of us who’ve lost the appetite for the modern technological facilitation of sense experiences, nothing strikes deeper than an appreciation of the old things in life. And in Kodachrome, we see the resonance of the way things were. A film digging into the interpersonal, the familial, the instrumental, and the still life of our existence—unapologetic and dismissive of the newly created institution that music and the pop culture has become. A film that has its flaws, but overall redeems the elements inside the human connection and the competence that comes with a soundtrack to life worth listening to.
Kodachrome is set during the final days of the admired photo development system: a father (Ed Harris), son (Jason Sudeikis), and nurse (Elizabeth Olsen) hit the road in order to reach the Kansas photo lab before it closes its doors for good. One last trip to develop the remains of film by an ancient process, where photography is appreciated for its capacity to leave an imprint, instead of our world bent on metadata and electronic stamps driving the obsession for short-lived experiences.
Well casted and musically decorated, the film feels like an homage to a time being forgotten and yet remaining in existence within the noise pollution that the music industry has become. It is difficult to explain the reverberating chimes that the film produces for me personally, but for those of us with an old spirit, the storytelling in Kodachrome will surely strike the right note.