How I Approach Colour Grading in Long-Form Storytelling
The approach to colourgrading
I have when joining a long-form narrative project isn’t about building a LUT or applying a preset look, nor is it about finding the lastest “film emulation” plugin. It begins with a conversation about story.
Long-form storytelling asks something different of colour grading. Rather than shaping individual shots in isolation, the goal becomes guiding the audience through an emotional journey — one that unfolds over time.
Before touching a frame, I usually ask the Director, Dp or Filmmaker:
What is the story about and what is it meant to make the audience feel?
I’m also interested in the person sitting across from me — the director, cinematographer, or filmmaker — because understanding their perspective helps me align with the story they want to tell, not just what the script describes.
The conversation starts here and while I lead, its very much dependant on what is said to where we will end up.
Is this process abstract? Yes. But it allows the visual language to begin forming long before technical decisions are made.
Storytelling itself is ancient — stories told around campfires thousands of years ago were created to evoke emotion and connection. Film is simply a more technologically advanced continuation of that tradition. So why should colour grading become a mechanical process where a LUT or plugin is simply dropped onto an image? Personally, I don’t think it should.
That doesn’t mean LUTs have no place. Sometimes I build them myself, occasionally drawing inspiration from photochemical processes. But they come after understanding intention — after conversation.
Starting With Story, Not Style
When beginning a long-form grade, I’m less interested in defining a “look” and more interested in understanding intention.
A look is often the result — not the starting point.
I want to understand:
What the characters are experiencing
How the emotional tone evolves
Where love is in the air or tension spills
How the audience should feel at key moments.
These conversations become the foundation from which visual language grows. Rather than imposing a visual identity, the goal is to discover it together.
Emotional Continuity Over Visual Consistency
Consistency in long-form storytelling doesn’t mean everything looks the same.
It means maintaining emotional coherence.
Scenes can shift — warmer or colder, softer or harsher, restrained or expressive — but they should always feel part of the same emotional world.
Colour becomes a way of guiding the audience subtly, often without them consciously noticing. Some of the strongest grades are the ones that disappear into the storytelling. When I watch a film, I know a grade is working when I stop thinking about the image and feel pulled deeper into the narrative instead.
There’s a moment in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford during the train robbery where the sinister tone is carried almost entirely through light and shadow. As the passengers sit in darkness, a bright light behind them pulls the eye deeper into the scene, creating an imposing sense of inevitability. The lantern glow isolates faces and draws attention toward the eyes of the robbers, shaping how we experience tension without overt visual exaggeration.
What also stands out is how restrained the colour palette feels — almost monotone, with subtle variation rather than bold contrast. The fact that its also shot on film, which reinforces the historical setting quietly and naturally. It’s a reminder that colour doesn’t always need expansion; sometimes limitation deepens emotional immersion.
Conversation as Part of the Craft
I approach grading as an evolving dialogue.
Working closely with directors, cinematographers, and filmmakers allows the visual language to emerge organically. Clarity often arrives through discussion — through testing, adjusting, and responding together in real time.
The grade becomes less about executing predefined decisions and more about unlocking what the film is asking for.
Amplifying Emotion, Not Overpowering It
The aim isn’t to add emotion artificially, but to strengthen what is already present in performance, cinematography, and editing.
In long-form storytelling, colour rarely needs to shout — it needs to resonate. The grade supports the story, and the story, in turn, shapes the final look.
Closing Thought
For me, grading long-form projects isn’t just about creating a signature aesthetic, while the aesthetic is important, it’s also about helping the story find its emotional shape.
The most rewarding moments are when the visuals feel inevitable — when the grade supports the narrative so naturally that it becomes invisible.
Technology will continue to evolve, but interpretation — understanding emotion and translating it visually — remains fundamentally human.