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The first frame of The Happy Film is a disclaimer in white block letters against a black background. It reads, “This film will not make you happy.” And while there were definitely elements of the documentary that made me smile – like watching the renderings of Stefan Sagmeister’s personal mantras, such as the phrase “now is better” presented in a typeface of tumbling red Jell-O – the warning is nevertheless warranted. Without it, a viewer might well go through the whole movie waiting for the turn of events or moment of insight that would propel our on-screen surrogate into something resembling lasting happiness, and then be thoroughly disappointed when the credits roll, and no such thing has come to pass.
The Happy Film is presented in three segments, corresponding to the tripartite approach that Sagmeister takes to brighten his habitual thinking patterns: rounds of meditation, cognitive therapy, and prescription antidepressants are employed in succession, with varying results. (These approaches come recommended by Jonathan Haidt, author of The Happiness Hypothesis and the film’s scientific advisor.) Sagmeister, an internationally renown graphic designer, explains that he conceived of the idea of bringing the principles of his professional practice to life and self-development, to find out, in other words, if he could “design” a happier life. And he seems to throw himself into the methods for producing this life with wholehearted determination – perhaps to a fault in at least one case, as his sudden plunge into all-day meditation at a Bali retreat leaves his back in such a state of shock that the pain prevents him from sleeping. But the real problem is that in the midst of each of these experimental pursuits there is a romantic relationship waiting to be sparked, which in each case provides an immediate uptick in emotional affect, but eventually results in a more-or-less catastrophic blow to poor Sagmeister’s psyche.
But even as these involvements have a derailing effect on the film’s more carefully constructed investigations into the methods of happy-making, and even as their presence in the movie is a subplot that balloons into the central drama, you can’t say that The Happy Film is no longer actually “about” one person’s pursuit of happiness because of their disproportionate presence. Instead, it becomes clear that for the subject of the film – and surely he is not alone in this – the idea of happiness and romantic love are inextricably linked. In his attempts to design a happier life, what Sagmeister really seems to be doing is creating a suitable backdrop for working out the inconsistencies and personal shortcomings that hinder him from building intimacy with others. Ultimately, the film seems undecided about whether the way forward, for Sagmeister, should be defined by his continued work on issues of commitment and gratitude, or if building upon the meaning he derives from work should be his main focus. In what appears to be a final interview, Sagmeister is shown sitting across form Haidt, who advises him, “Stefan, this movie should be about you, and your weaknesses, and your attempts to fix them.”
WHAT IS HAPPINESS? 