”What happens in the meadow at dusk?”
A tribute to Jeff Baena's I heart Huckabees
On Saturday night I casually mentioned to my visiting family that one of my favorite movies of all time is I heart Huckabees. I’m no film connoisseur, I don’t watch many movies, but I do remember the ones I like and watch over and over again. This is one of them. It’s in my top five, right up there with Forest Gump, Dumb and Dumber, Eternal Sunshine and American Beauty.
On Sunday morning I woke to headlines that Jeff Baena had passed away and then I realized that he happened to be one of the co-writers of this absurd dark existentialist comedy of the mid 2000s. He was 47 and sadly took his own life. Since I love the movie so much and think dark humor is a great force in fighting actual darkness, I decided to write tonight’s Substack in his honor. I ask my dear readers, especially the non-movie-watching ones, please consider giving this film a chance. It’s 106 minutes and it’s got Jude Law, Jason Schwartzman, Lilly Tomlin, Dustin Hoffman, Naomi Watts, Mark Wahlberg and more. Jonah Hill, for example, makes his first Hollywood cameo.
I watched it again last night with my family. I told my folks I was going to write a Substack about it tonight, and my Dad said ‘good maybe you can explain to me what it’s about.’
It’s described as having a cult following, and it’s clearly not for everyone. When you Google it one of the first searches that pops up is “What is the point of I Heart Huckabees?” To sum it up in a sentence: several flawed and intense people go on a dialogue-driven search for meaning in the recent post 9/11 America, perhaps somewhere near NYC.
The characters are all lost, earnest, charming and cliché. After watching it consider asking yourself which architype you identify most with and why.
The film begins with the inner, sweary dialogue of Jason Schwartsman who plays 21-year-old Albert Markovski. He is a passionate environmental activist and wants to save a nearby marsh and woods from being bulldozed and developed. He also wants to be seen as an artist, specifically a poet. He hasn’t been with a lot of women. It doesn’t take us long to understand that he is lost and searching for answers.
Albert’s archnemesis is Brad, played by Jude Law. Brad is corporate to the max, money and power obsessed and not really creative, just charming. He has a hot girlfriend, Dawn, played by Naomi Watts. Dawn went from working in a mall to becoming the face (and voice) of the I heart Huckabees corporation which has a terrible environmental reputation and might just destroy the woods and the marsh Albert wants to save. Albert probably has a crush on Dawn.
Albert finds the business cards of Vivian Jaffe and Bernard Jaffe played by Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman respectively. They are self-proclaimed existential detectives but get called therapists, much to their chagrin. They are arguably the good guys. I heart Huckabees has two main conflicting themes: holistic vs nihilistic. Holism is about hope and connection; we are all made of bright stars and more similar than different. Nihilism alternatively means everything is pointless. Accept humanity’s downfall, and hey maybe even enjoy it. Hit yourself in the face with a bouncy ball to make the pain temporarily less. (Reference from the movie.)
Invested viewers may understand these opposing emotions in this modern world. In my head these two feelings often go to war when I’m assessing how I feel about anything.
Thus begins Albert’s quest to figure out a coincidence involving repetitive interactions with an African man. We meet Mark Wahlberg’s character, Tommy Corn an angry aggressive firefighter who believes the root of all evil is petroleum. He is eventually introduced to Albert via the detectives, but unbeknownst to Vivian, Tommy has been reading the controversial French philosopher Caterine Vauban, an ex student of the Jaffes who happens to also be in town.
So much is going on. There are references to Shania Twain which I love, there is actual Shania Twain, even better. The film pokes fun at all caricatures. The absurdism is the best. Tommy creates a distraction at the detectives’ Mancala hour of all things so that Albert can grab his top secret file. Albert accidentally knocks down and cracks open a random melon (apparently ornamental) in the office as he tries to escape with his file. In another example a cardboard cut out of Shania Twain is brought into a corporate meeting and Albert, distressed, inadvertently decapitates her and then uses the head to address his coalition. Dawn gets roped in with the existential detectives and decides she doesn’t like being a hot Huckabees model and becomes obsessed with wearing a bonnet and having dark chocolate in her teeth. The detectives, an old married couple, are really hot for each other, always taking time to make out. The French philosopher is also horny. There’s gotta be some Kinsey-esque games happening here.
I love the high intensity conversations that constantly happen. When they crash the suburban home of the adopted Sudanese refugee Stephen (the African man) Tommy and Albert have a confronting conversation with his family about petroleum’s impact on war torn countries. This is where the most famous line from the movie happens.
”What happens in the meadow at dusk?”
Twenty years after its creation, the late capitalism normalcy still rings bitterly, hilariously true. I have the same conversations now that I did then related to suburban sprawl, corporate greed, public transport, etc. How unfar we’ve come.
This film captures lefties’ feelings of the downward spiral of modernity, while also acknowledging how capitalism’s perks tease. Albert’s father is so excited to show off his new sound system. Brad and his girlfriend (before her transformation) love their jet skis. Even the Open Spaces environmental coalition become smitten when Brad gives them each a Shania Twain tee. The film manages to not only capture the hopelessness of human systems like capitalism and consumerism but also the hopelessness of humanity, period. Albert and Tommy’s relationship goes downhill quickly when a woman gets involved, but I’ll try not to spoil it. We are reminded again and again that life is pain. Yet it’s also funny. Utter nonsense but somehow profound.
I have one criticism. Steve, the token nonwhite doorman that originally drove Albert to the existentialists is obviously tokenistic, but maybe it’s intentional and in that case, ironically not tokenistic. The weakest scene in the movie is when the French philosopher Caterine brings Steve up to Albert’s childhood home to compare Steve being orphaned by war in Sudan to Albert being orphaned in his own home when his mother showed no compassion for the death of his cat. I take Caterine’s point, but I think it’s callous at best and offensive at worst. Come onnnnnn! But then again Caterine believes that nothing matters anyway, so who cares.
We are all full of hope, desperation and sadness. We hate each other so much sometimes but those dark feelings are probably what we should explore the most. Why not embrace the absurdism and humor while we grieve for the environmental end? It’s all pointless, but we can’t give up! Shall we chain ourselves to rocks and recite poems no one’s really listening to anyway? Do we really have anything better to do?
I’m sad to read that the man who co-wrote one of my favorite films has passed away, gone too soon. I knew nothing about him before this weekend, but I knew this work well.
Thank you, Jeff. You made my life better by making this piece of art. Thank you for making me laugh and think. I hope you found a meadow at dusk.
