(*spoilers below*)
Albert Markovski: I'm talking about not covering every square inch with houses and strip malls until you can't remember what happens when you stand in a meadow at dusk.
Bret: What happens in the meadow at dusk?
Albert Markovski: Everything.
Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.
Albert Markovski: Everything.
Mrs. Hooten: Nothing.
Albert Markovski: It's beautiful.
Tommy Corn: It's beautiful.
This movie came out in 2004, and I can't believe I've only now discovered it. That's what I get for relying too much on critics.
It's by no means a perfect movie, this little existential gem. In fact, I recently described it to someone as a lovely but manic mess. The main characters' motivations are a bit unfocused at times, and one narrative thread in particular just sort of unravels into nothingness (which may or may not have been the point). Not perfect, no. But very sweet and loony, very genuine and memorable.
It's funny to me that some people found this film overly philosophical or hard to follow. True, it's somewhat chaotic, but the underlying story is really quite simple. On the one hand we have the Jaffes - our existential detectives - and their happy, sunny philosophy. Just crawl under this blanket and recognize yourself in the infinite and everything will be all right, because everything is connected.("When you get the blanket thing, you can relax, because everything you could ever want or be, you already have and are.")
On the other hand we have Caterine and her dour, fatalistic, very French nihilism. Nothing matters, nothing is connected, life is pain and darkness and suffering. ("Sadness is what you are, do not deny it. The universe is a lonely place, a painful place. This is what we can share between us, period.").
And then we have Albert the depressed environmentalist ("What am I doing? What am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing.") and Tommy the disillusioned firefighter ("I'm not a hero. We'd all be heroes if we quit using petroleum, though."), who are caught between the two extremes and just trying to figure it all out. There's really nothing particularly heavy here. Just some very funny, sharp dialogue, physical humor, and fantastic performances. David O. Russell really knows how to tap into the absurdity of life without his films feeling overly pleased with themselves (I'm lookin' at you, Wes Anderson).
What I love most about this movie is the idea that someone you have nothing in common with, someone you may even hate, can become knowable to you if you find that the two of you share a common experience. I love the idea that you can suddenly see yourself in that person -- even become that person, the moment you are able to glimpse their humanity. And so Albert sees his nemises, shallow, golden boy Brad Stand who secretly fears he has no real identity outside of his corporate image ("How am I not myself? How am I not myself? How am I not myself?")in one moment of suffering, and he instantly relates to him. After all of his searching and confusion and angst, that connection takes Albert out of himself and allows him to see the bigger picture. And, at least for a moment, everything is all right.
