The Zero Theorem
Watching the latest film from Monty Python member-turned-visionary director Terry Gilliam, it’s become pretty clear that the filmmaker, after having to abandon his dream project, “The Man Who Killed Don Quixote,” due to unforeseeable circumstances (documented in the unmissable documentary, “Lost in La Mancha”), has abandoned all notions of commercial filmmaking, and is following his heart on projects he believes in. Yes, I know he made “The Brothers Grimm” in 2005, but the behind-the-scenes drama that film endured is another indicator that Gilliam is not a director cut out for studio filmmaking. Plus, compared to personal, idiosyncratic films like “Tideland,” “The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus,” and now “The Zero Theorem,” it’s very much the exception in his filmography, rather than the rule. I’ll take personal Gilliam any day anyway; yes, my favorite film of his to watch remains “12 Monkeys,” but if he can continue to find producers willing to give him money for movies like this, I’ll take it.
With “The Zero Theorem,” he returns to the dystopian worlds of “Brazil” and “12 Monkeys” with another film about an individual alienated by society. In this case, the individual is Qohen Leth, played by Christophe Waltz in a fine, lovely role. Leth is a computer programmer at Mancom, a corporation in this futuristic world that does…I don’t know, honestly; what Mancom does is difficult to comprehend, but the important this is that Qohen (pronounced “Cohen”) is a drone, with a somewhat obnoxious supervisor (played by David Thewlis) above him, mispronouncing his name. He does his job well, but wants more; more specifically, he wants to work from home. He first goes to physicians at the company to try and get permission to leave, but if there’s nothing medically wrong with him, they can’t help him. His only hope is to appeal to Management, personified by a character played by Matt Damon. Management, surprisingly, approves his request, but his work changes: his focus is now on an elusive equation known as the Zero Theorem, which sets out to explore what (if any) meaning life has. Doing so, however, involves risking one’s sanity, and Qohen’s already seems to be on the brink, as we refers to himself as “us” or “we.”
Is there a filmmaker who can do more with less than Terry Gilliam? Look at the modestly-budgeted “12 Monkeys,” or the glimpses of what might have been in his “Don Quixote,” or the interrupted, but remarkable, vision of “Parnassus,” and try to find me a filmmaker more gifted at producing fully realized worlds on the cheap (and with sets and practical effects, no less). “The Zero Theorem,” made for roughly $13 million, is no different. The world we see in this film looks like a bizarre blend of “12 Monkeys” and “The Fifth Element” (with the filthy production design of the former and the bright, absurd costume design of the latter), and it looks like it must have cost at least twice that much. But Gilliam is nothing if not resourceful, and that trait serves him well on this film. And as shot by long-time collaborator Nicola Pecorini, the result is another visually stimulating effort for the director, whether it’s on the streets of the city with it’s bustling crowds and hyper-stylized advertising, or the loopy offices at Mancom, or the dank, solitary building that makes Qohen’s home, it’s impossible to look away from the screen for fear of missing something.
Keeping a film visually interesting has never been a problem for Gilliam, however; even fans will tell you that the director’s movies rise and fall with the script. That’s where “Zero Theorem” falls short of the heights of “Monkeys,” “Parnassus,” “Brazil,” and “The Fisher King,” for this viewer. Don’t get me wrong: the story is a compelling one, but as written by Pat Rushin (writing his first feature), it feels like a one-dimensional trip through Gilliam’s greatest hits than a fully fleshed-out narrative. Maybe it’s unfair to pin that completely on Rushin, because Gilliam tends to skim along the surface of a story often, but even when we see interesting developments such as a friendship with Bob (Management’s son, played by Lucas Hedges), and a bubbly love interest in Bainsley (Mélanie Thierry), who may or may not be genuine, it seems like the film is hitting a plot point rather than telling a story. That’s not always true on multiple viewings of Gilliam’s movies, so it’ll be interesting if I feel differently the second (or third, or fourth) time around on this film. I will say that the love story, which brings up questions of the nature of the soul and spirit, and is played with warmth by Waltz and Thierry, definitely feels like it could cut deeper in the same way “12 Monkeys” and “Fisher King” do, but that’s for another day. For it’s visual imagination and central ideas alone, “Zero Theorem” doesn’t qualify as a disappointment from Terry Gilliam, if only because, for the iconoclastic director, any time he is given the chance to make a movie should be seen as a victory for film fans everywhere.
