Costume-wise, Aaron (Carruth) and Abe (David Sullivan) start out in very similar clothing, reflecting their tandem goals as entrepreneurs as well as engineers. The majority of the film’s duration sees them wearing similar costumes: white button down shirts, ties, dark slacks. At one point, they’re even in the same color and style of light jacket as they’re working together in the dark. The costumes convey a type of goal-oriented behavior: it’s a professional uniform, despite that it could be easily written off as a laziness or time constraints of the engineers that don’t have time to change in between projects. After all, it’s said that driven individuals often wear the same clothes because it’s one less decision they must make, which certainly fits in with our two engineers that are mapping out and executing time travel beta testing. It’s subtle and easy to miss, but it’s there nonetheless. In this respect, Aaron and Abe are aesthetic reflections of working in mathematic and theoretical physics tandem: when Aaron tucks his tie into the closure of his shirt, Abe follows shortly thereafter, both working side by side. This quality even extends into the technology that they use: both lie in their own box in the storage area on opposite ends of the room as a type of control/variable to the time travel in the box, working together to achieve the goal. Oh, and the ear buds they wear at the party – notice anything? Each only wears one, but it’s in the opposite ear of the partner: one left, one right. The men are subtle halves of the same whole, the necessary ingredients of the formula.

The audience does not get much deviation from the costume department, but we do start to notice some of the differences in physical appearance that coincide with the trajectory of the experiment’s goals. Abe is more controlled and wishes to use the time travel ability for a more noble cause, such as saving his girlfriend from a hostile, gun-toting ex-boyfriend. Aaron, on the other hand, is far more impulsive and seeks fame, notoriety and monetary gain. Is it any surprise that these men have vastly different appearances from the neck up, and that we get lingering close ups of them once they begin to disagree on how to use the box? Sullivan’s Abe is blonde, blue-eyed and fair-skinned, a sharp contrast to the dark hair and eyes of Carruth’s Aaron; while both men couldn’t really control skin tone and eye color (okay, I guess you could argue makeup, but work with me here), it does create an effective line of delineation. Is it any surprise, given the quiet uniforms that Carruth gave us earlier, that the polar opposites in physical appearance happen to receive more emphasis – however slight – once they begin to argue about the purpose and use of their machinations? While it may not be intentional (and if it was, this is something most audience members wouldn’t consciously think about in terms of casting decisions), this is one hell of  a happy accident. We literally get the fair, blue-eyed shoulder angel in Abe and the dark, materialistic devil in Aaron. We have an argument that can be broken down into a good versus evil debate, and it’s staring us right in the face the entire time. They may as well have had spotlights on them the entire time. And the best part of this is that Carruth didn’t need to beat us over the head with it: we were so focused on understanding the science that we didn’t realize the power of suggestion.

So, what does this really mean in the grand scheme of things? Primer ultimately causes us to think not only about the concepts of time travel and its applications, but about the way in which our appearance can give us away as well. The costumes demonstrated solidarity at first, as both men wore the uniform of the dutiful engineer trying to make his startup dreams come true in his spare time. As time wore on, though, they both came to represent different perspectives in the debate of the use of technology, both of which are relevant and practical. Really, if you stop and think about it, how much of what you wear projects a type of uniform to your dedicated work? How often do those with the same goals – work, relaxation, formal celebration – sync up and wear something similar without even realizing it? It’s a type of formula for success: wear X and achieve Y. It’s the differences of the mind and the ideology that separate the individual from the shared goal: it’s not just a uniform anymore, but a person, a representation of the larger stakes in the issue. The science may be the same, but the end result differs based upon the desired goals and actions of the participant. These permutations cause a splinter effect that manages to create different versions of both Abe and Aaron, though both continue to wear the same clothing due to their participation in their experiments with the box. Once this happens, we begin to distrust appearance because we’re not sure which version of Abe or Aaron we’re getting. We doubt level of consciousness to their experimentation, integrity and sense of duty. All of this is based upon the physical perception of sight, because we’re not sure who it is that we’re getting.

In the end, appearance is really all that we have to go on with these two. We’re left with a paranoid Abe, who attempts to ensure that what he considers the “real” (or “original”) version of himself remains ignorant of time travel, and an opportunistic Aaron, who has set his sights constructing a warehouse-sized version of the box for who knows what purpose. We’re not sure what to think of the multiple versions of them – we go based on sight. We make assumptions as to the good guy and the corrupt guy. We don’t even realize fully that we’re judging based on who we think we’re viewing. And that, my friends, is the sign of a good film: something that makes you doubt the world around you while making you believe in the possibilities.