Bad Faith and the Stories We Tell Ourselves

I Heart Huckabees centres on Albert Markovski (Jason Schwartzman), a young man who heads a small environmental group aiming to prevent a large department chain from building a new store and destroying local marsh land. In doing so he experiences an existential crisis of self and turns to The Existential Detectives, played by Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman. To this end, he is forced to confront both himself as being, his place in the world and the choices he makes, along with Other’s who inhabit the world with him.

There are many existential themes explored throughout the film, but there is one key character that I would like to focus on for this short analysis, the character of Brad Stand, portrayed by Jude Law; and specifically a scene where he undergoes an existential crisis and is forced to face the absurd.

Brad Stand is presented to us as the direct antagonist to our protagonist, Albert. Stand represents the corporate executives of the large department chain Huckabees. His sense of self, purpose and meaning are all derived from both his position as an executive within the company and in meeting or exceeding the standards of other’s. He holds this position of himself to such a degree that he denies his own freedom and authenticity; openly admitting his dependency to the company and to others perception of him.

In the Sartrean sense, his denial as a being-for-itself is made in bad-faith; it is a choice, a lie that he tells and holds onto himself. This bad-faith choice he holds onto has ultimately become his life, become the very structure of his existence. To emphasise this point, there is a compelling moment in the film where Brad is ultimately forced to confront his existential choices as Sartrean bad-faith, by the Existential Detectives.

Throughout the film he repeatedly tells a story of working with Shania Twain (famous and powerful person). He repeats the story with slight variations, but all tend toward the following arc:

“Shania hates mayo, alright, and she can’t eat chicken salad; that’s no joke. We gave it to her once, she threw up in the limo – the lady hates chicken salad! So, I bring out a bunch of tuna fish sandwiches – she still doesn’t believe me – I say, Shania, I’m allergic to mayo – which, by the way, is a lie. Shania still doesn’t believe me, so I eat two of the sandwiches in front of her to prove it. So, she eats one and a half sandwiches; one and a half sandwiches before she realizes, its chicken salad.”

When The Existential detectives confront him with audio tape of him repeating this story and accuse him of trading the re-tellings for affirmation, he initially denies this; however as the tape continues to play he is forced to fully face his lie and as such the absurdity of his being. In this moment, the lie is finally and fully exposed to him; the architect and choice becoming one. His quick wit and polished responsive nature having been exposed now abandons him. He is left naked in the realisation of his self-less ness.

The Existential Detectives then ask him why he repeats the story so much. His response is a dejected and reflexive, “I don’t know, why…” The Detectives raise the point that they believe it is propaganda for his sense of self. Specifically, that he is so impressive because he knows someone famous and so strong because he pulled one over her. By telling the story over and over, he reinforces that he is both these things. In this sense, he is perpetually reinforcing an inauthentic faith within himself out of fear of the unknown, the unknown of his own essential-being.

In being confronted with the reality of truly facing the dissonance between this inauthentic faith and his authentic self, he attempts to reposition himself as not needing to tell stories. To which the Detectives ask: what do you think would happen if you did not tell the story, are you being yourself? In a terrifying moment of Sartrean self-realisation, having denied his superficiality on the spot (“How am I not myself?”), his confrontation with the lie in the mirror shakes him to his core-being. It is in this moment of Sartrean Nihilation that Brad experiences the full existential terror of his self-deception, illuminating before him the inauthentic nature of his project; his essence of nothingness laid bare.

Upon experiencing this moment of existential crisis, Brad emerges from his office and experiences the world as absurd. All things previously affirming to him appear disorienting and jarring; at once known but now completely alienated from him. He is thrust, in a sense born again, into a world he no longer recognises as one he belongs. Shortly afterward, he is pressed for the Shania story in a corporate meeting to secure a promotion, the undeniability of his hollowness sickens him, and he pukes in his own hand – sickened by both the actuality of his bad-faith, as well as the affirmation of it through the gaze of the Other.

His eventual unravelling leads to him losing his house, his job, and his girlfriend. In short, all the sources of reliable affirmations he has ever known – the simulacrum of his bad-faith. It’s in his final line of the film that he states: “I don’t have a job. I don’t even know who I am.” It is in this final moment of the film that he recognises his freedom and goes from being a being-in-itself and becomes a being-for-itself.