Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, which dexterously navigated serious themes of loss and the pain of love, with Mood Indigo his approach is far less satisfactory, struggling to properly grapple with the few ideas it tosses about.
Mood Indigo becomes a slightly more intriguing experience only after navigating into darker territory, shifting into a monochrome aesthetic reminiscent of Jean-Luc Godard's Alphaville (1965). Prior to this, Chloé's diseases starts to manifest as nicotine-yellow cobwebs which matte themselves together over the walls and windows. As she struggles to breathe, the exuberance and joy of the universe they inhabit are choked; the sunshine is shut out. There's also a suggestion that all this frivolity has led to a lack of future planning; that the carefree jubilation of youth can become the melancholy regret of the present. If Mood Indigo preaches anything it delivers an anti-carpe diem agenda, reminding the viewer that all this surrealism comes at a price. Gondry's latest is not dissimilar to an ice cream sundae, topped with an elaborate and gluttonous array of creams, sauces and frostings that you eat and eat, only to discover there's nothing at the bottom of the glass - a depressing thought indeed given what's come before.