eureka

As a cinematographer Nicolas Roeg worked with some of the most influential filmmakers of the '60s. Yet when it came for him to launch his own directorial career (with 1970's Performance) he eschewed the more formal artistic tendencies of his mentors and adopted a "broken" filmmaking style that was uniquely his own. And he stuck with it for most of his career, right through Eureka (1983), a Citizen Kane-style story of a billionaire whose family life suffers despite achieving his dream of immense wealth.

At the tail end of the gold rush, Jack McCann (Gene Hackman) sniffs out one of the richest motherlodes in history, thanks to some supernatural assistance and a snowy vision quest. But his life seems to peak in that moment, turning him into a cranky recluse living on a private island in the Bahamas with his alcoholic wife (Jane Lapotaire) and his sexually adventurous daughter (Theresa Russell) whose marriage to Claude, a French playboy (Rutger Hauer), causes McCann no end of frustration.

Meanwhile, a shady land deal, shepherded by a pair of gangsters (Joe Pesci and Mickey Rourke), is foisted on McCann by a desperate business associate. When the millionaire rejects it out of hand, he puts himself on the wrong side of the mafia and winds up murdered (and viciously mutilated) in his own bed. Local authorities arrest Claude and the ensuing trial pits him against his own wife who is herself unsure of the truth.

Based on the actual life and death of Sir Harry Oakes, whose murder in 1943 was never solved, Eureka has little sympathy for anyone involved, presenting each character as a helpless addict of one sort of another (gold, love, alcohol and sex being the most obvious). And even though there is a narrative map to follow, based on Marshall Houts' 1976 book Who Killed Sir Harry Oakes, Roeg seems intent on creatively sabotaging it at every turn; which works brilliantly for the first half-hour, made up of incredible footage gathered in the frozen wastes of British Columbia and interjected with psychedelic imagery straight from the director's Man Who Fell to Earth and Walkabout days.

But as the script meanders into less spiritual territory, the film fails to adapt and its intentionally obtuse style comes off as just that. The cast is up for whatever Roeg asks of them, particularly Russell (his then wife) who agreeably undresses whenever the occasion calls for it...and sometimes even when it doesn't. But the moments between interesting creative detours (a third act voodoo ritual is one such welcome diversion) begin to drag Eureka down as it heads towards a turgid courtroom finale that's miles away from the occult origins the film began with.

Twilight Time's release is right in their wheelhouse, offering up a gorgeous Blu-ray presentation of a film few other companies would touch (in fact, MGM shelved the film for decades). Roeg completists should be exceedingly pleased as the disc also includes a 60-minute interview with writer Paul Mayersberg who illuminates many of the film's cloudy intentions. Other personnel on hand include editor Tony Lawson and producer Jeremy Thomas in shorter sit-down discussions. In lieu of a traditional audio commentary, Roeg's Q & A at the film's premiere is laid over the film along with an isolated music & effects track.