Existentialism, nihilism, and a very watchable screenplay

Among the movies to be released in the last decade, I ♥ Huckabees stands alone in that it offers not only a truly entertaining moviegoing experience, but also that it contains some legitimately inspired philosophical and artistic content. As a work of art, the film’s best quality is doubtless the complexity and brilliance of its script, which seamlessly incorporates the major themes of modern existentialist and nihilist philosophy into a singular, coherent, and surprisingly watchable movie. Other elements of the production fell a little short of expectations, but the mood was routinely resurrected by a witty exchange of dialogue or mind-boggling extrapolation on some metaphysical worldview. In all, the strongest aesthetic qualities of the film are evidenced in its brilliant writing, which oftentimes outshone the actors and stole the show.

This, of course, is not to say the acting was poor by any stretch of the imagination. Dustin Hoffman (playing the role of existential detective Bernard Jaffe) is among the stronger actors of our generation, and Jason Schwartzman (playing troubled activist Albert Markovski) has yet to disappoint me in his cinematic endeavors. Not only that, some character choices were downright spectacular, such as Mark Wahlberg’s fantastic Tommy Corn character, which kept audiences involved and laughing throughout the film; and Jude Law’s Brad Stand character who, despite being the antagonist and foil character for Albert, attains the emotional attachment of viewers when his many-splendored life finally comes crashing down around him.

However, while the cast presented an above-average performance, it was still the screenplay, and the dense philosophy interwoven within it, which made the film truly remarkable. “The universe is an infinite sphere whose center is everywhere, and whose circumference is nowhere,” says Hoffman at one point, and, mercilessly, the dialogue doesn’t even pause to allow viewers time for reflection on this staggering and seemingly impossible conclusion. The film jumps effortlessly between various flavors of both existentialism and nihilism, delves headlong into the problems of absurdism, dabbles with transcendentalism and romanticism, and in the process offers audiences enough food for thought to last them years.

The film executes this beautifully by embodying the different philosophies in its various characters. For example, Bernard Jaffe (Hoffman) and his wife Vivian (Lily Tomlin) are variations on the same brand of existentialism, whereas Caterine Vauban (Isabelle Huppert) is a satirical sort of nihilism bent on misery and human suffering.

Although marketed as an absurd comedy, the film explores much more serious and darker themes than one would expect of the characteristic film falling into this category. It tackles consumerism and material excess, the nature of true human beauty, the interconnectivity of all existence, the dangers of petroleum use and its effect on developing nations, and, throughout the film, an emphasis on the importance of deconstructing one’s day-to-day life and habitual thinking in order to best view existence from all angles. These are some pretty heavy topics which, intermingled with the comedic elements, all add to the richness of this screenplay.

While the screenplay was the most artistically impressive element of the production, the musical direction was another that particularly impressed me. Cheerful piano melodies carry bicycle-riding Albert through the film, adding to the comedic tone of several scenes and intensifying the absurd nature of the humor.

Mainly for the brilliant philosophical handiwork in the screenplay, but also for the impressive direction, acting, and innovative home-grown special effects, I ♥ Huckabees was an extremely watchable, enjoyable, and enlightening film. The experience was less like watching what one would expect of an absurd comedy and more like cracking open Thus Spoke Zarathustra, which is probably exactly what I loved most about it.