THE COLOUR OF INK LEAVES A MARK ON MORE THAN YOUR HANDS

The Colour of Ink CLASSIFICATION: G; 105 MINUTES Directed by Brian D. Johnson Starring Jason Logan, Margaret Atwood

To a newspaper reader, ink is something to wash off your hands when the reading is done. To Toronto inkmaker, illustrator and seeker Jason Logan, ink is eternal, primal and spiritual. “In the bottle it’s a colour, and when it hits the paper it’s a sort of process,” he says in Brian D. Johnson’s poetic, aqueous The Colour of Ink.

The National Film Board doc, which plays in cinemas across Canada starting this week, follows Logan’s perpetual quest for the fluid and its meaning. He makes ink from just about anything, including rusted railroad spikes and and carbonized peach pits. There’s another guy who uses antique pawnshop pistols.

Director Johnson, whose last effort was 2015’s Al Purdy Was Here, takes us to Japan and other interesting places. A calligrapher brushes epically; a tattooist searches for the blackest black; a Haida carver decorates a cedar mask; Margaret Atwood wields a quill.

T.S. Eliot said the purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink. All about the alchemy, The Colour of Ink metaphorically mingles ink with blood too, mystifying its topic.

That the fluid is alive and precious is the point.

The Colour of Ink is now playing in theatres.