This film is not recommended.
Mathematically speaking, a theorem is a formal statement of a problem that can be proved by a series of reasonable thoughts, expressed in formulaic terms as a means to solve an algorithm. Cinematically, Terry Gilliam's The Zero Theorem is a problem created by unreasonable judgment, the proof being right there before you, in all its visual splendor and loopy logic.
The absurdist tendencies that are Gilliam's stock and trade are clearly present in this futurist sci-fi tale of dystopia. Orwellian in scope, with paranoiac thoughts of Big Brother and governmental control, The Zero Theorem is schizophrenic metaphysical babbling of the highest New World Order. Just as Gilliam's central character needs to know the meaning of life, it seems so does the director, as he tries unsuccessfully to mull over his own existence as a filmmaker with very mixed results.
Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz) is a computer genius who spends his life in the confines of his artfully decorated church hooked up to his computer and waiting for the arrival of Management (Godot?). His job: to search for the signs and meaning of intelligent life in the universe (Tomlin?).
An odd array of weird characters inhabit this world and bring with them some farcical moments. There's the always watchable Tilda Swinton, in yet another outlandish physical transformation, as Dr. Shrink-Rom; David Thewlis as Joby, Qohen's supervisor; Melanie Thierry as Bainsley, a party girl and sex toy; an uncredited Matt Damon, and Lucas Hedges as Bob, an irritating street smart computer geek whom Qohen befriends. As the film progresses, the characters become all the more quirky and have a lost-in-wonderland persona that is more annoying than arresting.
No matter how Waltz boldly interacts with his environs, (and the actor does try his best), his bald androgynous character remains a walking enigma resembling Uncle Fester, just as anti- social, awkward, and only this side of believable. Blame the script and Gilliam's overindulgence with the surreal and the director's reliance on mind games
The wonderful production design by David Warren happens to be the most effective element in this silly and exasperating film. Its purposely gaudy color palette of turquoise, scarlet reds, amber, and steel grays emphasizes an other worldly universe. As per other Gilliam ventures, it's eye candy for the brain. But there is not much else to satisfy in regards to its story.
While the look of the film has an unique vibrancy and twisted incongruity that is quite appealing, the screenplay by Pat Rushin is more concerned with idiosyncrasies and philosophical hypotheses. It fails to make its argument about our existential and bleak future world (Is there any other kind?) in its cautionary tale about technology and big business destroying our souls. The end product is a joyless exercise with ill-written and underdeveloped characters spouting banal bromides in superficial conversations that rarely inspire or allow any contemplation of the film's "deeper" meanings. The message is mixed and the clichés are piled far too high.
Yes, The Zero Theorem is satire, but so heavy-handled and tedious in its storytelling. Gilliam's previous efforts in this area, the brilliant Brazil and the thought-provoking Twelve Monkeys, were visionary and daring films. This is not, missing the dizzying heights of creativity and humor and settling for hackneyed overstatement.
Does life have any meaning? Perhaps, the real question is: Does this film? I hereby conclude my review with his basic algebraic statement in hope that it can illustrate my point more clearly:
1x (talented director) - 1y (dopey screenplay) = 0 (Zero as in Theorem)
Class dismissed! GRADE: C-
Visit my blog at: www.dearmoviegoer.com
ANY COMMENTS: Please contact me at: jadepietro@rcn.com
Mathematically speaking, a theorem is a formal statement of a problem that can be proved by a series of reasonable thoughts, expressed in formulaic terms as a means to solve an algorithm. Cinematically, Terry Gilliam's The Zero Theorem is a problem created by unreasonable judgment, the proof being right there before you, in all its visual splendor and loopy logic.
The absurdist tendencies that are Gilliam's stock and trade are clearly present in this futurist sci-fi tale of dystopia. Orwellian in scope, with paranoiac thoughts of Big Brother and governmental control, The Zero Theorem is schizophrenic metaphysical babbling of the highest New World Order. Just as Gilliam's central character needs to know the meaning of life, it seems so does the director, as he tries unsuccessfully to mull over his own existence as a filmmaker with very mixed results.
Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz) is a computer genius who spends his life in the confines of his artfully decorated church hooked up to his computer and waiting for the arrival of Management (Godot?). His job: to search for the signs and meaning of intelligent life in the universe (Tomlin?).
An odd array of weird characters inhabit this world and bring with them some farcical moments. There's the always watchable Tilda Swinton, in yet another outlandish physical transformation, as Dr. Shrink-Rom; David Thewlis as Joby, Qohen's supervisor; Melanie Thierry as Bainsley, a party girl and sex toy; an uncredited Matt Damon, and Lucas Hedges as Bob, an irritating street smart computer geek whom Qohen befriends. As the film progresses, the characters become all the more quirky and have a lost-in-wonderland persona that is more annoying than arresting.
No matter how Waltz boldly interacts with his environs, (and the actor does try his best), his bald androgynous character remains a walking enigma resembling Uncle Fester, just as anti- social, awkward, and only this side of believable. Blame the script and Gilliam's overindulgence with the surreal and the director's reliance on mind games
The wonderful production design by David Warren happens to be the most effective element in this silly and exasperating film. Its purposely gaudy color palette of turquoise, scarlet reds, amber, and steel grays emphasizes an other worldly universe. As per other Gilliam ventures, it's eye candy for the brain. But there is not much else to satisfy in regards to its story.
While the look of the film has an unique vibrancy and twisted incongruity that is quite appealing, the screenplay by Pat Rushin is more concerned with idiosyncrasies and philosophical hypotheses. It fails to make its argument about our existential and bleak future world (Is there any other kind?) in its cautionary tale about technology and big business destroying our souls. The end product is a joyless exercise with ill-written and underdeveloped characters spouting banal bromides in superficial conversations that rarely inspire or allow any contemplation of the film's "deeper" meanings. The message is mixed and the clichés are piled far too high.
Yes, The Zero Theorem is satire, but so heavy-handled and tedious in its storytelling. Gilliam's previous efforts in this area, the brilliant Brazil and the thought-provoking Twelve Monkeys, were visionary and daring films. This is not, missing the dizzying heights of creativity and humor and settling for hackneyed overstatement.
Does life have any meaning? Perhaps, the real question is: Does this film? I hereby conclude my review with his basic algebraic statement in hope that it can illustrate my point more clearly:
1x (talented director) - 1y (dopey screenplay) = 0 (Zero as in Theorem)
Class dismissed! GRADE: C-
Visit my blog at: www.dearmoviegoer.com
ANY COMMENTS: Please contact me at: jadepietro@rcn.com