This is east bloc Sliding Doors. The colors are moss, wood and jaundice. Our protagonist has three different shitty lives depending on whether he chooses, rejects, or is indifferent to communism. No matter what he gets laid. He finds a message in a bottle, he stands in line for hours for bread. The sun peeks sickly out of clouds in train stations and airports. We are all the mutable results of fate and action.