What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is always present.

— T.S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton”

Imagine attending an infinite number of weddings — the same wedding — for the rest of eternity. The protagonists of the 2020 existential romantic comedy “Palm Springs” are entangled in this very predicament once they arrive as wedding guests to the eponymous southern California resort. Nyles and Sarah are two strangers who find themselves unexpectedly trapped in a time loop that forces them to repeat the same day over and over, but their struggles to find meaning in this existence is no less relatable to viewers. Almost everyone has questioned, at one point or another, whether anything they do has a purpose. But while there is no real answer, the film suggests that the search — and the choice to search — is a step toward being at peace with the unknown.

Screenwriter Andy Siara and director Max Barbakow make clever, inventive use of the time loop trope by imbuing their film with lighthearted comedic elements in conjunction with undertones of nihilistic and absurdist philosophy. But for all its subtle pessimism, “Palm Springs” is, at its heart, a story about two lonely people learning to be a little less lonely and to accept, and even enjoy, the experience of living in a universe indifferent to their individual sufferings.

When we first meet Nyles, he has already been trapped within the loop for an indefinite amount of time — long enough, however, for him to completely embrace a nihilistic point of view and disavow trying or caring for anything. “Today, tomorrow, yesterday — it’s all the same,” he deadpans to a fellow wedding guest at one point in the film. He spends his days in a carefree, lackadaisical manner by doing whatever he wants — drinking, drugs, sleeping around — with full awareness that life for him no longer has any consequences.

Sarah, a reluctant maid of honor and sister of the bride, bonds with Nyles over their shared pessimistic outlook on the world. But while Nyles cares too little, Sarah cares too much. Her attitude serves as a contrast to Nyles’ behavior when she is accidentally pulled into the loop with him; while Nyles turns to nihilism to cope with his new reality, Sarah becomes an absurdist as she actively takes charge in changing her circumstances and, by extension, herself in order to escape.

Screenwriter Andy Siara and director Max Barbakow make clever, inventive use of the time loop trope by imbuing their film with lighthearted comedic elements in conjunction with undertones of nihilistic and absurdist philosophy.

According to French philosopher Albert Camus’ theory of the absurd, human lives have no intrinsic meaning and everything done in search for that meaning is an absurdist goal in direct conflict with the reality of the universe. And yet, humans seek out meaning time and time again regardless of the futility of their search. Sarah is no exception — she follows in these footsteps with her wildly devised escape plans and her desire to connect with Nyles on a deeper level even if, at the end of the day, there’s no real reason to do so. She recognizes that there may never be a way out for the two of them, but she doesn’t give up as easily as he does.

The time loop that the characters are trapped in draws parallels with the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche’s proposed theory of eternal recurrence, also known as eternal return, in which time is infinite and everything in the universe is destined to repeat itself. This idea can be reflected in the first few lines of T.S. Eliot’s poem “Burnt Norton,” which Nyles quotes early in the film. The nameless speaker of the poem speculates that the past and potential future are all the same and the only thing that matters now is the present. With that said, eternal recurrence can be a thoroughly depressing concept, but Nietzsche believed that it allowed for a reframing of one’s attitude toward life.

If we can learn to accept our lives as they are, with all the pain and regret and sadness they hold, then we will be better equipped to survive and even appreciate our everyday struggles. This perspective is apparent in Nietzsche’s idea of “amor fati” (roughly translated from Latin as “love of one’s fate”), which advocates appreciation of all the good and bad of life rather than obsessing over the negative aspects of human existence.

These somewhat conflicting philosophical concepts are intentionally conveyed in the film through each character’s unique viewpoints and actions within the loop. We see Nietzche’s idea of amor fati most clearly when Sarah learns to accept her past — disappointments, regrets and all — in order to become a more fully aware and conscious individual. This consciousness is what Camus believed to be essential in facing the absurd, and it is a stark contrast from the way that Nyles behaves by alienating himself from everyone and everything. “Palm Springs” presents these budding concepts to the characters just as people are presented with them in life. By doing this, the film argues for the need to actively shape one’s own life to find meaning rather than be complacent and stop searching with the assumption that there is no meaning.

These somewhat conflicting philosophical concepts are intentionally conveyed in the film through each character’s unique viewpoints and actions within the loop.

As Nietzsche wrote in his last book, Ecce Homo, “My formula for greatness in man is amor fati: the fact that a man wishes nothing to be different, either in front of him or behind him, or for all eternity. Not only must the necessary be borne … but it must also be loved.” Learning to love our flawed lives will, by extension, provide us with the tools needed to find meaning in our existence. This meaning gives us a reason to get out of bed in the morning, to continue working, eating, speaking to the same people day in and day out. And for the characters in “Palm Springs,” meaning brings them hope and appreciation of another day relived — no matter what that source of meaning may be.

Within this discussion of meaning, it’s important to note a third wedding guest, Roy, who inadvertently stumbles into the time loop and spends much of the film chasing after Nyles to exact revenge for his new fate. But despite Roy’s initial anger and resentment, he is the first of the three time loop victims to come closest to being at peace with this reality. He becomes someone who is fully aware of the insignificance of life but still attempts to create his own meaning with this consciousness in the manner of a true absurdist.

He passes on this knowledge to Nyles when they reconcile near the end of the film. “You gotta find your Irvine,” he tells Nyles, referring to the suburban idyll he lives in with his wife and children — everything he once took for granted but is now his newfound source of meaning. “We all have an Irvine.”

And so it goes. Each central character in the loop reconciles themselves to their seemingly cursed existence through their different interpretations of meaning. Roy and Nyles find meaning through their relationships with other people — for Roy, his family, and for Nyles, his budding romance with Sarah. Sarah, on the other hand, throws herself into a single-minded goal of finding a way out of the time loop (which she accomplishes by spending an inordinate amount of time learning quantum physics).

But no matter what drives their sense of meaning, “Palm Springs” makes a case for taking the initiative to find happiness in an oftentimes difficult existence. Embracing amor fati doesn’t mean you should surrender and simply accept fate: It’s a symbol of acknowledging what you can’t change and appreciating what you can. It’s a call to action, and in the case that eternal recurrence is real, a means to find meaning in suffering and define one’s own life.