Primer vs I Heart Huckabees

I never know which movies are going to scare me. I'm not even sure Primer is designed to scare. To make me think, sure. But it scared me. To be more exact: Primer bothered me. A lot. Here's how: A man walks into a storage facility carrying an oxygen tank. Watching across a field, through binoculars, are the same man and his business partner. Before watching his best friend in two places at once, the business partner is warned not to freak out or run away, even though he might want to. I felt the same thing. Watching Primer, during more than one scene, I wanted to freak out and run away. And to rewind scenes and watch them again. And to call the director and ask him a few questions. And never, ever to speak of Primer in mixed company, lest someone have proof that anything in the movie might be remotely possible.

Allow me to elaborate, if it's possible (seriously, I could reprint the screenplay, and you could still watch the movie devoid of any spoilers. This is like if Donnie Darko were a documentary.). Four friends are working on a project in a garage. They know they have something, but they're not quite sure what it is yet. There's a lot of metal, and lots of math, and lots of talking. The voices are all calm and monotone, like those of people trying to talk in a library. Everyone sounds like they know what they're talking about. Two of the friends take a dominant role, and begin working on the device on their own, eventually phasing the other guys out of the project altogether. Let's call them Red Hair Guy and Other Guy.

Red Hair Guy isn't necessarily smarter, but he's more ambitious about the device, and works on it on his own some. Maybe. Eventually, he catches Other Guy up on his findings, which revolve primarily around a box. The box is very complicated. Parts have been stolen from cars and refrigerators to keep it going, doing that thing that it does. A Weeble has been placed in the box, and something curious happens: it grows protein. Apparently anything would grow protein in there, but the Weeble grows way too much protein; like, days worth. Experiments are done, and repeated, and sure enough, time is passing at a different rate inside the box. Soon, Red Hair Guy has built a bigger box, one big enough to hold a person. And soon after that, there are two boxes, and then a third. And they all get used.

I'm trying to tiptoe around potential spoilers here, although it's probably obvious that time travel is involved, as well as all the sci-fi paradoxes that go with it. I'm also trying to tiptoe around all the confusing, intriguing and frightening details of Primer that are so fun to discover. Minus the confusing, intriguing and frightening, you're pretty much just left with that Weeble, and we already discussed him.

Primer, despite its plot and themes, is a minimalist production, finding locations in storage sheds, garages, and suburban kitchens. The actors, David Sullivan (Red Hair) and Shane Carruth (Other), are good in what must have been difficult roles. Red and Other speak quickly and quietly, in long, technical conversations that we sometimes join in the middle. When they talk about the boxes and the proteins and the doubles, we believe them because they seem to know exactly what they're talking about. The events of Primer are outlandish, but I believed them. Shane Carruth wrote and directed Primer, with a tiny budget, using his own garage, and I'm guessing his own Weeble as well. It's a striking debut, with no indie-film gimmicks or cool-guy camera work getting in the way of this smart, unsettling story.

You might have guessed that Primer is the kind of movie you talk about afterwards. Like Mulholland Drive, it's one that's open to interpretation, and it's one that doesn't disappoint, no matter what theories you throw at it. And Primer is so simple, really, just quietly constructed like that box in the garage, leaving its characters (and the viewer) to question time, space, science, the universe, humanity and greed. Other movies work so hard at this, loading up on philosophy and debate, trying to get to the bottom of things, when really, they should just relax. I Heart Huckabees is one of those movies.

I Heart Huckabees is beloved by many, so let me first commend it on its originality, humor and cast. It was directed by David O. Russell, and it fits nicely with his other movies, in that it's pretty much unlike anything else you've seen. It's got a literate script and is filmed in a bright, sitcommy fashion that suits the story. I'm not sure I'd want to be on a long plane ride with I Heart Huckabees, though, because talk, talk, talk. I Heart Huckabees stars Jason Schwartzman as Albert, a young environmentalist on the verge of what is either huge self-discovery, or huge nervous breaking-down. Albert works with Huckabees department store, in an attempt to preserve the neighboring wetlands, and to help them embrace the heritage of the land on which their store stands. Maybe. There are several meetings held at Huckabees to discuss the wetlands, but they're sort of interchangeable. Albert thinks he has a friend in Brad (Jude Law), an executive at the store, but Brad has ulterior motives. Brad is also having a bit of a crisis with his wife, Dawn (Naomi Watts), a spokesmodel for the store.

And, Albert has hired two existential detectives to follow him around and get to the bottom of things. He's been encountering coincidences that are just too odd not to be meaningful, at least according to him. He's also become friends with Tommy, a sad firefighter who bonds with Albert over environmental concerns, and who also happens to know an existential detective. Small world.

The acting in I Heart Huckabees is good all around. Schwartzman is good as an alternative everyman, sort of Rivers Cuomo at the mall. Jude Law and Naomi Watts are funny together, although neither of their characters seems to have much genuine interest in the other. In moments when they confront their relationship problems, I had to remind myself they were even together. Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin play the detectives, and honestly, I wouldn't mind them in every movie, peaking through windows, recording conversations and taking notes. Tomlin has a scene dodging lawn sprinklers that is like a crash course in comic timing. That her character exists primarily to observe the others is somewhat frustrating; she and Hoffman are hilarious and could support a movie of their own.

The characters in I Heart Huckabees do a lot of talking about themselves, and a lot of questioning about themselves, and a lot of worrying that other people aren't recognizing their true natures and a lot of looking inward, but no one seems to connect to each other, either than Albert and Tommy. (Also, no one seems to heart Huckabees, even a little). Tommy is played by Mark Wahlberg, and he's a jolt of energy that I Heart Huckabees can't get enough of. With all the weirdness and whimsy and talking, Tommy is a living, breathing human who's on the verge because life is hard, not because he's had too much time to think about it. With everyone else, you get the idea that maybe if something good were on TV we wouldn't be in this mess. Tommy's life is deep and interesting (he's got survivor's guilt from 9/11, and is so passionate about energy conservation he rides his bike to fires), and is worth following. Albert, Brad and Dawn are content just following themselves around, like the guys in Primer. Thank God they don't have doubles. Don't let them near one of those time boxes. Not even a Weeble; just to be safe.

Primer: A
I Heart Huckabees: B