Eureka
Lisandro Alonso’s complex, three-part drama makes one want to cheer until it becomes all too indecipherable.
My first encounter with the work of the Argentinian filmmaker Lisandro Alonso came about when I saw his 2014 film Jauja which had won the Fipresci prize at that year’s Cannes Film Festival. I described that film as being myth-like rather than naturalistic and found myself greatly admiring the photography and noting the commendable impact of the movie even if that was weakened by the film becoming altogether too obscure in its concluding scenes. Now, a decade on, Alonso at last gives us this further feature film and much of what I said before applies again. The look of the piece is no less notable than before and, while the footage shot in America was taken by Mauro Herce Mira, the episodes filmed elsewhere involved Timo Salminen who had photographed Jauja. In addition, Viggo Mortensen who played the lead in Jauja reappears here and the screenplay credit in each case goes to Alonso and to Fabian Casas but with Martín Caamaño also involved this time around. However, there is one major distinction between the two films: Eureka is almost forty minutes longer coming in at 147 minutes and the extra time only leads to the obscurity of the piece building up even more.
In a manner that recalls the three-part structure in Ruben Östlund's 2022 film Triangle of Sadness, Eureka divides into three distinct sections. In this case, however, the contrasts between them are even more extreme and even if some actors appear in more than one section, they are no longer the same character. The first segment is the shortest and plays as a western which, even if it carries a touch of Leone, belongs to the old school as is confirmed by it being in the old ratio and being shot in black-and-white. Here we find Viggo Mortensen as a man on a mission reaching a town where he finds a commanding woman played by Chiara Mastroianni who introduces herself as El Coronel (that’s ‘the colonel’ to us). He comes armed but exactly who it is that he is seeking and why only eventually becomes clear.
The film’s middle section is the only one that is contemporary. We now find ourselves in North Dakota where the Sioux live on the Pine Ridge Reservation. Mastroianni briefly turns up again but now as Maya an actress researching for her role in a western and the main characters here are two women who are both native Americans. Alaina (Alaina Clifford) is a cop whose night duty in her patrol car will take up the greater part of this segment. However, there is also time for Sadie Lapointe in the role of Alaina's niece Sadie, a student with an interest in basketball, to become a significant figure (both actresses do very well and when seen together Lapointe in particular brings a real sympathy into play). The equally substantial final third takes us to Brazil in the 1970s. Starting in another indigenous community, one living in the forest, it shows the people describing their dreams but then leads into violence between two rivals over a girl. The young man responsible for this (Adanilo) decides to go off on his own and becomes involved with a project which provides an opportunity to pan for gold. He proves lucky in finding it but is then in danger of being robbed of what he has found in the course of which he encounters another El Coronel, this time male.
If this description sounds odd, it accurately reflects the film which very much leaves it to the viewer to interpret what it is that makes these three pieces a proper whole. At least one can say that it is a film concerned with indigenous people as viewed at different times and in different places. The opening western segment arguably reflects the old Hollywood by starting with chants by a native American but then uses him only to lead into a narrative in which he will play no part. Some viewers have seen this episode as parodic but it plays forcefully even if it could be seen as a pastiche of western movies. The middle section is one which paints a sad picture of the community in the reservation today. We find Alaina worn down by her duties as she drives from crime scene to crime scene while her niece visits her grandfather (Rafi Pitts in the second of two roles) and explains her own disillusionment with life. The final hour shows the Amazon basin as a place of exploitation and greed but the involvement of indigenous Brazilians is hardly more than a chance factor unless you read the film’s move into obscure symbolism as something that can be linked to the beliefs of such people.
By the close of this film many viewers will feel frustrated. That I had that reaction myself is paradoxically partly due to the fact that for well over half of its length I was full of admiration not only for the photography but for the cinematic sense apparent in Alonso’s work. Even more than in Jauja I felt that, until the pace became just too slow and the meaning of the work just too impenetrable, I was watching the work of a hugely gifted director with total command of the medium. Furthermore, the way in which he links the segments is extraordinary in itself although best left to be discovered when the film is viewed. When you come across a film as striking as Eureka, it is doubly disappointing when one then finds it losing its way: initially you want to cry ‘Eureka’ and then, in part at least, you have to take it back.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Viggo Mortensen, Chiara Mastroianni, Alaina Clifford, Sadie Lapointe, Rafi Pitts, José María Yazpik, Luisa Cruz, Viilbjørk Malling Agger, Adanilo, Márcio Marante.
Dir Lisandro Alonso, Pro Marianne Slot and Carine Leblanc, Screenplay Lisandro Alonso, Fabian Casas and Martín Caamaño, Ph Timo Salminen and Mauro Herce Mira, Pro Des Miguel Angel Rebollo and Ivonne Fuentes, Ed Gonzalo del Val, Music Domingo Cura, Costumes Gabriela Fernández and Natalia Seligson.
Slot Machine/4L/Arte France Cinéma/Bord Cadre Films/Komplizen Film/Luxbox-Sovereign Film Distribution.
147 mins. France/Argentina/Germany/Portugal/Mexico/Italy/USA/Switzerland/UK/The Netherlands. 2023. UK Rel: 16 February 2024. Cert. 15.
