At 20 years-old, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, as far as cult classics go, doesn’t feel like it has aged one single bit. I mean the cast, crew, director, and producers have all aged, but its essence, themes, and rumination of memories and how they play a singular factor in our relationships doesn’t seem like it’s flown past its expiry date. If anything, those same messages perhaps hit a lot harder today than when they first did in the early-mid 2000’s, with unfollowing your exes on social media and deleting any trace of them on your mobile phones just like Lacuna would.
Many others before me have already said their piece when it comes to the unyielding hold of pop culture phenomena that Eternal Sunshine has become over the years. That brand of ‘special’ doesn’t last 20 years for no good reason, or bad as well. Consider Tommy Wiseau’s The Room which came out a year before or Ang Lee’s Brokeback Mountain the year after.
In the changing landscape of cinema, we’ve seen the domination of superhero franchises in the 2010s, the recent revival of non-IP tentpoles like Barbie and Oppenheimer, to audiences wanting to see just as much quality at home as they do in the comforts of the theatre. One thing has stayed constant through it all: we crave the uniqueness that comes with watching something special.
In addition to filling the void of entertainment and content, that special feeling we want as consumers of media is to feel like we’re watching the greatest film ever made, much like show business. Why would anyone want to settle into watching a film that they know is not going to be good, much less enjoyable?
On the other hand, humans are creatures of comfort. We want to watch something that makes us comfortable, and film and media rewatches are oftentimes the reason why we continue to return to our favourite childhood shows, or even shows we’ve watched growing up. It’s one reason why we get plugged into the 3rd rerun of The Big Bang Theory, so that we can watch it with our loved ones and relish those same memories and moments with eager anticipation.
There are very few films or shows that fit both of the criteria that I’ve laid out above. A piece of media that feels unique and yet can be a comfort watch with every consecutive viewing? That makes no sense. It’s almost as if the film has to offer something, reveal something, or even become something different on your following rewatches for it to mean something more than on your first watch.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is one of those rare films. If you’ve not watched the film yet, be warned: there may be spoilers where you tread from here on out, and that’s not very nice of me if you do get spoiled.
Clarity at love’s end
Your first watch (or first rewatch in many, many moons) of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind will most likely be made up of these five words, more or less: “What the hell just happened?”
I always consider anyone’s first watch of Eternal Sunshine to be a mountainous climb. You’ll feel winded by the end of it, your mind fractured in a million pieces as you struggle, with bleeding fingers (and brain matter), to try and put the whole thing back together. And if you did get it all by the end, a cinematic gut punch follows through in swift fashion.
That first watch is all about unspooling the madness weaved by the genius pairing of screenwriter Charlie Kaufman and director Michel Gondry, realising that Joel (Jim Carrey) and Clementine’s (Kate Winslet) relationship was all placed in the wrong order, much ado like Christopher Nolan’s Memento.
Your fingers will send you to YouTube, or Wikipedia, or your favourite search engine, and you type in: “What is the actual ending of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?” and you’ll get a hundred different answers, video essays, reviews, and reactions. I’m not here to discourage you from doing that, in fact, I believe you should do it. If there’s any film that needs more context around its kooky narrative, it’s this (and maybe David Lynch’s Mulholland Drive, but that’s a whole other discussion).
Once you’ve finally had it all figured out, this is the part where you go: “I think it’s a good film, but it’s not really as good as <name drop sci-fi film or show that was probably inspired by Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind>”. Trust me, I’ve heard that one far too many times.
Now, I’m not here to tell you how to feel about a specific piece of media. What I want to explore is just how much a rewatch for certain films can actually, though not scientifically-proven, elevate what you’re watching. And in particular films that are non-linear, that have so much in its creative tank, that it may even end up surpassing your enjoyment of your first watch.
When I say that Eternal Sunshine felt like a creative crescendo of Michel Gondry’s ideas on a blank sheet of canvas, I really mean it. There’s so many little nuggets of filmmaking that are sporadically dipped and placed across its under 2-hour runtime that it may vanish in front of you if you aren’t paying attention.
Meet me in the corners of every part of this film
The most popular little film nugget is perhaps Clementine missing a leg when she leaves Joel’s apartment and walks along the streets on the fatal night of the couple breaking up. You’re probably hyper-focused on the car as it slams head-first in the background, so no big deal on this one. Let’s try another.
Did you catch how Joel poured Clementine a glass of whiskey towards the end of the film, awkwardly mentioning how he thought he used to have more? The truth is he did, and that has nothing to do with having his memory erased. Lacuna employees Stan (Mark Ruffalo), Patrick (Elijah Wood), and Mary (Kirsten Dunst) drank nearly all of it the night before.
How about Clementine’s hair colour as it bends space-time continuum (or the rules of narrative linearity) that clues you into where and when you are in the story of this romantic break-up? Each colour representing the four seasons, symbolic of the nature of Joel and Clementine’s relationship — from green beginnings to red hot passion, to orange fading love and to the blue wilt of romantic death.
Did you also catch that the film depicts every relationship as soberingly unhappy, like how life isn’t all a bed of roses? Or how Joel’s home becomes a depressing slump when he rids all of the paraphernalia of Clementine? What about the film’s repetitive ending capturing their doomed romance? Or is that an optimistic sign that maybe, for once, they will have learnt from their mistakes and be better?
All of the above are embedded into its narrative and reflect a deep, meticulous attention to detail that Gondry had over the direction of the whole film. I have not even mentioned the incredible one-shot that happens midway through the film as Carrey shifts from one side of the camera to the other to play two different versions of himself as he pleads to Tom Wilkinson’s Howard Mierzwiak to cancel the procedure. All done in one hectic, single take.
If the first watch was trying to find a ground to stand on in the beautiful miasma of tormented memories, then the second watch is like witnessing a magician put their hands into a top hat and casually whip out a railgun. It’s got a kind of cinematic magic that blossoms with extraordinary care and detail.
Special doesn’t even begin to cover just how incredible every new watch is for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Whether it’s picking up new things or watching the pieces fall into place, it’s an effective film that educates young storytellers on the power of the visual medium that we all glue our eyes to. It also takes a bundle of luck, oodles of joy, and a whirlwind of talent to conjure a cinematic gem that will most definitely stand the test of time.
And in my personally biased opinion, that makes the second watch just as important as the first, if not even more so. It’s a film that continuously expands, shuffles, and where we extract its philosophical ideas in a much clearer fashion on the second watch (and consecutive watches) than we will ever do on the first.
The world forgetting, by the world forgot
For as long as I can remember, I’ve watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind at least once every year. I may watch clips on an endless loop, or even forgive myself for a second rewatch in a single year, but that’s a plan that I’ve stuck to and (sort of) succeeded. It is, if you still can’t tell after reading all of the drivel above, my favourite film of all-time.
It’s ironic that a film so beset on erasing memories has continued to power through longer than most films that I’ve seen in my lifetime. I’m talking award winners, controversial sore thumbs, blockbusters with giant-sized hearts; they’ve all fallen faster and fallen short in comparison to Eternal Sunshine’s reign in my mind, and I predict that will continue to happen for many more years to come.
I always thought that it was because of how much I loved the film’s purpose in telling a poignant and effective story about love and regret, joy and pain, and heartbreak and maturity. Then, I thought that it was because I loved the cast’s fizzy energy and off-kilter approach to embodying their characters. Or maybe it was Jon Brion’s melancholic, soulful score that enchants every time I press ‘play’. Or it’s Kaufman’s relatable writing, or Ellen Kuras’s ethereal sense of framing, or it’s Gondry and his manic wit and wonder.
Or maybe, it’s all of those things, and more. To me, this is a film that has continued to captivate in ways I cannot even explain. It has remained a source of inspiration, a well of affection for film and filmmaking, and one of the reasons why I believe it has stayed in the public consciousness for so, so long: it’s unforgettable, rich, poignant, and beautiful to watch.
If you’ve just watched or re-watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, let the film sit with you. You’ll have a dozen thoughts, so bask in the spiralling randomness, the quiet chaos, and the moody vignettes. Come back to it in a few months, even a year, you might appreciate the film’s deeper meaning on your soon-to-be second watch. Or you might hate it, I don’t know. Who knows how the human mind works anyway?
All I can say is this: there’s no other film quite like this one out there, and there probably will never be one like it ever again. And I think that’s okay.
Have a happy 20th, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
