Ever wondered how the world agreed on what 'sea mist' or 'papaya punch' actually look like? Before Pantone, color was a chaotic mess. Imagine a world where every painter, designer, or printer had their own idea of 'red'—frustrating, right? But here's where it gets fascinating: The King of Color (2025), a documentary by the creators of Wordplay, dives into the life of Lawrence Herbert, the 96-year-old genius who revolutionized color standardization. This isn’t just a biopic; it’s a vivid journey through the evolution of color printing technology, told through the eyes of the man who made it possible for us to speak the same chromatic language.
But here’s where it gets controversial: while Herbert’s Pantone system unified color globally, some argue it also commodified creativity. Did standardizing color strip away its subjective beauty? Or was it a necessary step for modern design? The film doesn’t shy away from these questions, though it’s undeniably a love letter to Herbert’s legacy. Directors Patrick Creadon and Christine O’Malley use animation, archival footage, and even movie clips to break down complex concepts, though math-averse viewers (like this writer) might still scratch their heads during the technical bits.
What’s truly captivating is Herbert’s personal story. From his split fountain press innovation—which printed 28 colors simultaneously in a mesmerizing array—to his midlife crisis and traumatic Korean War experiences, the film paints a multifaceted portrait. And this is the part most people miss: Herbert’s decision to commission this documentary in his 90s feels both self-serving and profoundly human. One of his adult children quips, ‘It seems a little self-centered, frankly,’ but isn’t that what legacy-building is all about?
The film’s re-creations of Herbert’s early life, using hand-drawn illustrations and retro animation, remind us that memory is subjective. We’re not watching history—we’re watching his history. By the end, you’ll see the world in finer shades, appreciating the invisible processes behind every color. But here’s the question: Did Herbert’s ‘dictionary of color’ liberate creativity or confine it? Let’s debate in the comments—what do you think?
