Watching Primer is akin to learning a new language. Not simply the rewritten rules of genre or cinematic expression but a literal rebirth into an unrecognizable human race, starting back at the ground zero of communication. The opening half-hour, with its endless stream of mellifluous techno jargon, as baffling and enthralling as any science-fiction film I’ve ever seen, made me feel as though my slate had been wiped clean; I was once again a child standing on tiptoe at my parents’ dinner table, craning my neck over the edge to catch every adult word and inflection, trying to absorb each gesture and utterance. Thus, the notion of rebirth, the main theme of a certain other groundbreaking sci-fi film of the Sixties, also concerned with redefining a language of its own, becomes Primer’s motivating force. These starched-collar shadows of masculinity, bravado, and human err, speaking in bulbous gobs of manual-instruction lingo, are barely recognizable as fellow citizens of planet Earth—the more we try to understand their intentions, the more alienated we feel. The most existential sci-fi film since A.I., the low-budget Primer seems to break every rule that’s been laid down to protect audiences from confusion: exposition that complicates rather than elucidates, a narrative that refuses to grant subjective primacy to any one character, even giving multiple perspectives to individual characters.

Many who have seen the film only once (an impossibility for those who wish to comprehend its sinister implications) bemoan its forthright narrative scatology, its penchant for doubling back on itself, seemingly willy nilly. Let me say that after multiple viewings, while perhaps not “lucid,” Primer certainly “makes sense”—though its refusal to allow us to identify wholly with anyone onscreen is perhaps its most thrilling aspect. Major plot points are relegated to quiet offhanded remarks, pivotal characters are largely left offscreen, yet the repercussions of their actions are essential to a proper reading of the text. Ultimately, when the two main characters are double- and triple-cloned by the very principles of time travel, the film seems to begin jumping rapidly between the different POVs of about six fragmented shards of the same two protagonists. Thus, Primer is a multicharacter study with only about two seemingly integral characters, yet Carruth chooses to never literalize or call attention to these tricks. Easily the most disturbing sci-fi film of 2004, or the only one that dared to truly challenge its audience’s perceptions. Primer is richly rewarding should the viewer be prepared to return to the site of conception and forget just about everything he ever learned about narrative. For a film so focused on the plans and specifics, it roundly rejects any blueprint of its own.

Also on Primer:
Carruth Interview
Primer Review