In an overpopulated, ultra-technological future, there is an isolated and idiosyncratic computer virtuoso who refers to himself in the plural ("We are dying," he sadly intones) and awaits a telephone call he believes will reveal the purpose of his existence. Employed by a vast corporation, he receives an absurd, complicated, and perhaps dangerous assignment: prove zero equals one-hundred percent, which is to say prove the universe, despite its complexity, has no overarching purpose. Part of his troubled mind rebels against the idea, devoid as it is of design and hope, even as he hides in his home—an old, burned, cobweb-and-shadow-enshrouded church—and devotes his days and nights to proving it. The Zero Theorem is latest feature by visionary director Terry Gilliam, whose many legendary films include Time Bandits, Brazil, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.

This plays as a companion piece to Brazil in particular: a more intimate, but still very amusing and highly thoughtful continuation of the 1985 film's anxious themes (a flawed, but hopeful man against an overbearing and soul-crushing surveillance state) and elaborate humans-in-a-pinball-machine set pieces, complete with vivid pop-art colors and acrobatic camera movements. Gilliam proves he still has the X factor which has always set him apart (as a stylist, as a social critic, as a comic, as a cinematic madman). He has an invaluable partner here in star Christoph Waltz, who has become one of the most unusual and riveting actors on the A list after dual Academy Awards for performances in Quentin Tarantino films. Bald, curved, neurotic, retreating from others, and racing to and fro in his environments as if even his bed were an inhospitable place, Waltz vanishes headlong into his role, creating a character peculiar beyond compare, yet easy to champion as he searches the expansive void for elusive answers which may not even exist.

A

The Zero Theorem

Weird. Gilliam has created a world that is so distant and cold, with production design that is so utterly grotesque, and with costumes that are insanely peculiar, all to express his pretentious tale, that it is impossible to relate to or enjoy for even a second. His auteurship is in full swing here; bald heads, zany characters, ridiculous dialogue, that slightly tilted camera angle including the fore and background etc. The Zero Theorem is a claustrophobic and flamboyantly bizarre way for Gilliam to tell a simple story about faith. Fucking get over yourself and make a normal film that normal people can enjoy.

Waltz is also dire. His sentences flow in exactly the same way as Hans Landa. He is incapable of changing his tone. He mastered that role and it seems he cannot play another. One thing I liked in the film was Mélanie Thierry, who is extremely sexy, but sadly not enough to save this pile of shit.

F