Eureka

Eureka

Simon Kessler is a psychologist high up in the human resources department of the Paris branch of the German company chemical company SC Farb. Kessler’s boss gives him what must be an intimidating job, though he never shows any hesitation. He needs to investigate the company’s CEO, who has been acting irregularly, deteriorating quickly from coming to work tardy a few times to showing full-on attacks of paranoid delusions. 

This job seems suited to Kessler, thanks to his interest in “the human question,” the literal translation of the film’s French title. His job is to know what makes the executives of this company tick. But the other side of his job is to create “selection criteria,” to quantify the value of the company’s employees so his bosses can best know who to fire and who to keep.  

“How do you reconcile the ‘human factor’ with the company’s need to make money?” Kessler is asked in one scene by Jüst, the CEO whom he is investigating. 

Through long, static shots (often backgrounded with silence, often with indiscernible mechanical noise, occasionally with vaguely musical hums), Klotz follows both Kessler’s investigation and the moments of release from the sterile corporate offices he inhabits and the black business attire of everyone within.  

The investigation leads Kessler on a path that takes him deep into his own beliefs about what he does and deep into Farb’s history, and the releases underscore the unexpressed, pent-up, humanity of Farb’s employees. “Violence is a thriving market, a way to let off steam, a kind of necessary ritual,” states one of Jüst’s former colleagues, a sentiment that is highlighted when Kessler loses control at a rave party.  

But for all the talk of investigation and the mystery of what is troubling Jüst, the movie is not a thriller. It’s not interested in building suspense, but rather exploring the “human question” slowly, even ponderously. It doesn’t give any solid answers to the questions asked by Jüst and Kessler, but it makes clear the human misery that results when they are disregarded. 

—Scott Cunningham

  1. Directed by: Shinji Aoyama
  2. Produced by: Tsukasa Ariyoshi Philippe Avril Takenori Sentô
  3. Written by: Shinji Aoyama
  4. Music by: Shinji Aoyama Isao Yamada
  5. Cinematography by: Masaki Tamura
  6. Editing by: Shinji Aoyama
  7. Release Date: 2000
  8. Running Time: 217
  9. Language: Japanese

Arts & Faith Lists:

2010 Top 100 — #78

2011 Top 100 — #57

Similar Posts

  • The Searchers

    John Ford’s 1956 Western, The Searchers, ends with the camera framing a doorway, looking out into the gloriously filmed desert. As his remaining friends and family cross over the threshold into the welcoming house, John Wayne’s Ethan Edwards stays outside, watching them. Then he pauses a moment, turns, and walks off into the red dust. There’s…

  • Lawrence of Arabia

    If, as they say, writing about music is like dancing about architecture, then how does one describe a film like Koyaanisqatsi (1983), which has no actors, no dialogue, and no plot, but consists instead of nothing but music and images (some of which, incidentally, do happen to revolve around architecture)? Well, we can begin by looking at…

  • Cave of Forgotten Dreams

    On a Top 100 list that threatens top-heaviness with clergy, saints, and organized religion, Cave of Forgotten Dreams is a welcome outlier.  Its writer/director, Werner Herzog, professes no interest in God or religion, except as a subject for cultural exploration, a manifestation of our humanity. Yet his films, across a career spanning almost 60 years, are suffused with…

  • Selma

    “Three hundred years of humiliation, abuse and deprivation cannot be expected to find voice in a whisper. The storm clouds did not release a ‘gentle rain from heaven,’ but a whirlwind, which has not yet spent its force or attained its full momentum.” – Martin Luther King, Jr. Selma, Alabama, March 1965 was part of the…

  • L’Avventura

    L’Avventura (1960) has long been known as the first feature in Michelangelo Antonioni’s “alienation” trilogy, which includes La Notte (1961) and L’Eclisse (1962). Yet the term “alienation” is too simple and too succinct a descriptor; this film is about emotional, social, and spiritual enervation, about something nightmarish. The inhabitants of Antonioni’s post-industrial, post-war West are profoundly sick, dysfunctional, wayward, and…

  • The Return

    Andrey Zvyagintsev’s celebrated feature-length debut is a story about two brothers who must decide whether to trust the stranger who suddenly arrives in their home claiming to be their father. As the sons argue about how to respond, they follow this stranger out on what they believe will be a fishing trip. It becomes something…