Lisandro Alonso’s heady, intoxicating Eureka opens on a pristine beach where a Native American musician sings toward the sun. None of what he says is subtitled, though it’s apparent that his personal history, as well as that of his people, colors every word. When his chant concludes, the man walks slowly inland in one of the protracted transitional sequences in which Alonso specializes. Of all the practitioners of so-called “slow cinema,” the Argentine filmmaker excels at making even the most anti-dramatic actions riveting.
Eventually, the Native singer comes to an overlook where he spots a wagon in the distance. In the back of the vehicle sits a grizzled gunslinger named Murphy (Viggo Mortensen). Up to this point, Eureka has the feel of an ethnographic documentary. But with the arrival of a bona fide movie star, the ambience shifts toward the thorny fantasyland of the American western.