I ♥ Huckabees: Happiness on Trial?

The following review was published originally on cinekklesia on December 1, 2006.

Are you happy? Few questions provoke as much thought (or thought-avoidance) as that simple yes-and-no. Its simplicity hides one of the boldest and brashest of provocations: to ask whether someone is happy is to demand a peek into the condition of that person's deepest emotional, and even spiritual, self. Yet, despite the provocative nature of such questioning, we accept happiness as a natural desire. Who wouldn't want to be happy? Is that not the end goal of so many of our activities?

Happiness, however, is a slippery animal. Feelings of happiness easily fade, and happy appearances, of course, can mask an opposite reality. Worse yet: happiness may be a deceptive obstacle, blocking our path to Truth with sugarcoated roadblocks and siren songs that tempt us to easy, pedestrian lives.

Perhaps it is ironic that a comedy, I ♥ Huckabees (2004) ends up asking whether happiness is an impediment to a life of higher purpose. David O. Russell's philosophical farce places environmental activist Albert (Jason Schwartzman) in an unusual position: he encounters the same African man in several disparate circumstances and wants an explanation for this "coincidence." He recruits Bernard and Vivian (Dustin Hoffman and Lily Tomlin), a spousal team of existential detectives who posit the notion that everything in the universe is connected. As such, they follow all of their clients, including Albert, in order to examine fully their daily lives and to ascertain the underlying reasons (connections) that shed light on their original question — or, more importantly, expose new questions.

On the other side of the ledger is Caterine (Isabelle Huppert), a former student of Bernard and Vivian's, who since has taken an opposite perspective: nothing in the universe is connected, and we are simply disparate beings, endlessly playing out humanity's conflict, pain, and futility. Her most recent disciple is an angry firefighter named Tommy (Mark Wahlberg). Tommy tries to recruit Albert to join the other side in this philosophical dichotomy, and in a way, I ♥ Huckabees is an examination of each side's attempt to gain the upper hand in our protagonist's life. Albert just wants to find out the reason behind a seeming coincidence, but he gets a lot more than expected: a highly charged examination of whether a Higher Purpose even exists.

Albert's initial quest is embedded within a life of conflict and doubt. While he cares passionately for his cause (anti-sprawl), the local chapter of his organization sees him as a liability, an ineffectual leader spending too much time writing poetic screeds rather than protecting open space. The musings of his philosophical compatriot, Tommy, are affected by anger over both his failing personal relationships and U.S. oil consumption (seriously). Both men begin reflection during moments of unhappiness, and near the beginning of I ♥ Huckabees, Tommy asks a simple question that frames the entire movie: "How come we only ask ourselves the really big questions when something bad happens?"

Even though I ♥ Huckabees portrays the philosophical enterprise in a humorous, even satirical, light, it does suggest that only through unhappiness can we come to a deeper understanding of ourselves, the world, and the very nature of the universe. Happiness—and the attempts to mimic it—almost intrinsically prevent deep thinking because they do not leave space available for the inquisitive mind to take its course. If we're happy, then presumably things are the way they should be (why stop a good thing?), and if we are trying to appear or become happy, then our time and energy will become totally consumed by that goal. Only during crisis, depression, or tragedy do we take stock of the Big Questions.

What is particularly odd about this view of happiness is its zero-sum nature. If one wants to be happy, then he/she has to sacrifice intellectual integrity and the search for Truth (or at least the search for greater understanding). If one wants to be philosophically aware, then he/she must forego happiness and all of its accoutrements. In this respect, I ♥ Huckabees mirrors The Matrix, since the latter suggests that a desire to know the truth will propel one into a heroic, though unhappy, existence.

Overall, I would have to agree with I ♥ Huckabees' assessment. Happiness does seem to preclude serious reflection, facilitate status-quo preferences, and inadvertently prop up existing political regimes (happy people rarely raise a ruckus).

Yet, we should note that some may not care about higher-order things and may be willing to trade those for a happier life. While the movie strongly suggests that those who do so (e.g., marketing executive Brad Stand, played by Jude Law) merely repress the angst bubbling right below the surface, it seems that the Happy simply have made a decision to pursue ends outside of Deep Reflection. How many of us have taken a college-level humanities class, one that raised provocative questions about the nature of humanity and/or the universe, and then simply moved on to other pursuits once the semester ended? How many of us have been exposed to potentially life-altering ideas and instead chose the safe, comforting path of routine and banality?

Perhaps the best solution for most of us lies in-between the cheerleader and the malcontent. In the context of material goods, the Apostle Paul advances the following virtue: "for I have learned to be content with whatever I have. I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Phil. 4:11b-13, NRSV). The contented individual does not ignore the harsh reality of existence (cheerleader), nor does he/she mope and complain about it (malcontent). The contented individual can look reality in the face and still be thankful, confident that God will empower during good times and bad. In short, the secret lies not in pursuing happiness or in harboring scorn, but in seeking grace.