Eureka (2000)
dir. Shinji Aoyama
I’m not saying that you must live, but I am asking you not to die.
Named after a song by the independent american sonic experimentalist, Jim O’Rourke, that came out the year before, Eureka (2000) is a monumental movie that tells a story about the survivors of a bloody city bus hijacking.
Right out the gate, director Shinji Aoyama already invites us to feel the terror of a horrible massacre, which also appears a bit confusing. There aren’t many details revealed as to why it all happens, no clear motives and no explanation. In fact, the movie has nothing to do with that, the tragedy is not of the movie’s interest, but the aftermath is. There are three survivors from the tragic incident, we learn one survivor’s name: Makoto, and that’s it. The movie mainly focuses on these three survivors, their traumas and their recovery stories.
At a glance, the next thing you’ll know about Eureka is its incredibly long runtime. This film clocks in at 3 hours and 38 minutes. Meaning it takes real commitment to watch it — in my case, I watched this in three separated viewings, and I believe I didn’t really do the movie justice for this.
The story revolves around 4 main characters and a few supportings, and there’s a repetitive/cyclic element in the plot development. Not to mention two of the leads (sibs characters played by real-life siblings) barely speak throughout the movie.
The cast does a great job in this movie, especially Kōji Yakusho (previously seen in Cure [1997] and Tampopo [1988]) and the newcomer Aoi Miyazaki (who landed a similar role in Harmful Insect the following year).
The movie’s first half set forth with a combination of domestic drama and murder mystery (which is not here merely to thrill you, but to add an unpredictable depth to the story), while the second half delivers an emotional and thought-provoking road-trip drama that recalls Wim Wenders films.
I’ve never watched any of his other films, but it’s easy to tell that the man has a huge spatial obsession. Filmed in sepia tone, every shot here is meticulously framed, beautifully composed, and kind of reminds me of Akira Kurosawa quite a bit. Kudos to the cinematographer Masaki Tamura for the great work. The influence of John Ford’s The Searchers (1956) is also apparent especially in the second leg as he displays nature landscapes quite extensively. This is easily one of the most beautiful films I’ve ever watched.
With its minimal yet extended offerings, some people may find Eureka overbearing. But what Shinji Aoyama actually does with this movie is nothing but to help viewers understand the psychological development of these characters. Clearly, he cares a lot about his characters. A huge portion of this movie is inspired by 1995 Tokyo subway sarin attack, and the man sees real urgency in putting this project out into the world.
If I have one thing to complain about this movie, it’s how I feel a little bit betrayed and unsatisfied by the ending. I wouldn’t say more about it, better to see it for yourself, because it’s still an essential watch nonetheless.
A little piece of trivia: alongside The Searchers, Aoyama also cited Alain Resnais’ Hiroshima mon amour (1959), and the classic indie rock album Daydream Nation (1989) by Sonic Youth as the main inspirations for Eureka — it’s funny how he listed Daydream Nation here since I always associate that album with another epically long movie, Edward Yang’s A Brighter Summer Day (1991).
Overall, Eureka the movie is pretty much resonant with the symphonic piece that inspired its title: grand, gentle, tight in aesthetic but loose in the narrative, wandering, contemplative, assuring, and most importantly, healing and redemptive.
Verdict: 4.5/5
rated using Letterboxd scale
