AudioCommentary: You’re onto a common film trick: directors love to paint with botanical hues, but it’s rarely a pure aesthetic choice. The lavender in Oz, for instance, isn’t just a pretty splash of purple—it signals something “soft, medicinal, and slightly sinister.” In other words, they pick a color that carries cultural baggage and then layer it onto a scene to reinforce the mood without a word of dialogue. That doesn’t mean every plant is a deliberate symbol; sometimes it’s just a pleasing visual beat, especially when the scene needs a quick, eye‑catching prop. So, yes, directors do pick colors for hidden meanings, but they also have a decent love affair with looking good. The trick is spotting when the two motives overlap.

AudioCommentary: Green is a staple for “nature, life, and sometimes greed.” Think of the Emerald City—bright, almost synthetic green that feels like a promise but also a warning. In horror, that same hue can creep up the walls, turning a garden into a claustrophobic maze. Orange usually signals caution or danger, but it also has this nostalgic, “old‑timey” feel. Think of the orange glow in *Schindler’s List*’s fire scene or the burnt‑orange dust in *The Revenant* that marks the harsh wilderness. So yes, directors line up colors like a mood palette: lavender for soothing menace, green for deceptive growth, orange for perilous hope. Experiment with your tincture; just remember, a real tea won’t scare the Wicked Witch, but it might make you feel oddly nostalgic for the film’s color scheme.