Picturehouse Movies
Playing at select theatres beginning Dec 12
Lawrence Herbert is a name few will recognize, but for anyone in illustration, graphic design, fashion, or printing, he’s an individual widely respected. He built the system that standardized how color is described, visualized, and mixed. In doing so, he became The King of Color—which is also the title of this biograph. Normally I’d lean on Canadian spelling, but for this story, American convention feels appropriate. After all, this revolution began in the United States.
When a curious child asks a teacher why one drop of black on white differs from three, they’re told it’s a subtle gradient. And this individual was that kind of child. He was wide-eyed, fascinated, and drawn to the magic of the moving picture. His love affair with cinema began when he saw The Charge of the Light Brigade. His father worked various jobs, and when he became a projectionist, young Herbert all but lived in the theater. He wasn’t just there for the pulps; he was there to learn. Some of that spark still glows in him nearly ninety years later.
Patrick Creadon’s work doesn’t simply profile Herbert. It places him within the shifting tides of consumer culture, showing how the world he grew up in shaped the innovation he later delivered. The historical context matters; viewers need to grasp that backdrop before the man himself comes into focus. Lawrence’s life—Brooklyn boyhood, middle-class upbringing, wartime service, marriage, children, and the grind of post-war employment—isn’t romanticized. It’s honest. And when he answered a want ad for a color matcher at a design factory, he didn’t just take the job. He saw the industry’s flaws and believed he could fix them.
The toll his dedication took on family life is handled with tenderness. His commitment to the office strained his marriage, yet he remained present for his children. Interviews with Lisa, Vicky, Richard, and Loren bring nuance to that chapter. As for whether there’s still more to be revealed, it might be in the printed version written by Linda Mead and Lawrence Herbert. This work is subtitled, The Story of Pantone and the Man Who Captured the Rainbow.
As someone who studied graphic design, I know how delicate color differences can be. A squint can shift a number in a moiré test from three to eight. He went deeper. He worked the presses, greased the machinery, and examined the results as paper cycled through again and again. The animated flashbacks in this film highlight the ingenuity behind those early experiments. And the whimsical soundtrack helps guide the moments of wonder to amazement. Although this individual helped produce this retrospective, the portrait isn’t self-aggrandizing.
Although out of print, this biography on which the film may be based can be found in the secondary market.
One of the most touching stories involves his friend and benefactor, Elsie Williamson, who helped him buy the remaining shares of the company outright. With that support, this prince would eventually become CEO, and he pushed his color-matching system further. The exposition doesn’t treat this as a footnote; it becomes the emotional center of the film, hinting at the complicated socio-political shadows cast by the era.
What stands out most in this documentary is its breadth. It’s not just about Herbert; it’s about the world that shaped him and the legacy he carved into modern design culture. The historical vignettes offer just enough background to help viewers understand how dramatically the field evolved. If anything, the section touching on the transition to a digital workflow could be made longer. In comic book publishing, artists are picky when it comes to getting their work reproduced accurately. Also, screen calibration is crucial for getting saturation and tones right in cinema. Before a design reaches the press, that display better have its neutral gray set with care.
5 Stars out of 5
The King of Color Trailer
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