Rating summary

Movie		3.5
Video		4.0
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

The Zero Theorem Blu-ray Movie Review

We're not in Brazil anymore.

Reviewed by Jeffrey Kauffman January 14, 2015

It may not be a theorem per se, but erstwhile Monty Python member Terry Gilliam has subscribed to at least a maxim of sorts when it comes to his output as a film director, namely “Nothing succeeds like excess.” That seemingly genetic hyperbolism was well on display in Gilliam’s rococo animations for Monty Python’s Flying Circus, a cut and paste assortment of frequently bizarre mash ups of the sacred and the profane, but Gilliam’s already fecund imagination really became unfettered when he moved into the world of film starting with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which he co-directed (evidently somewhat acrimoniously) with fellow Monty Python member Terry Jones in 1974. 1977’s Jabberwocky and 1981’s Time Bandits tended to only reinforce the impression that Gilliam was a hugely gifted but nevertheless undisciplined would be auteur whose often quasi-hallucinatory cinematic vision perhaps exceeded his technical grasp. Gilliam probably achieved his critical and popular apex with Brazil, a film which finally found him able (if only barely at times) to control his more manic proclivities in favor of an unusually compelling depiction of a decidedly retro feeling dystopian future, an approach mirrored in what is probably a runner up for Gilliam’s most celebrated film, 12 Monkeys. Gilliam’s post-Brazil oeuvre has been hit or miss at best, but even partial misfires like The Adventures of Baron Munchausen , Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas , The Brothers Grimm or The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus were so stuffed full of visual splendors that it was easy to be distracted, at least fitfully, from various shortcomings each project presented. (Interestingly, when Gilliam works outside of his normally fantasy laden context, as with the ostensibly more “realistic” (a relative term, to be sure) The Fisher King, he proves he can be relatively restrained and undeniably effective.) The Zero Theorem finds Gilliam trafficking in much the same milieu as that of Brazil, with Christoph Waltz filling in for Jonathan Pryce, Mélanie Thierry assuming Kim Greist's role, David Thewlis replacing Robert DeNiro and Tilda Swinton taking the place of Katherine Helmond. Released with relatively little fanfare and to a typically bifurcated response by the critics (even individual critics, it should be noted), The Zero Theorem just fell flat at the box office, and even some Gilliam fans may not even be aware of the film’s existence. That’s a curiously ironic situation for a film that is at its core about, well, The Meaning of Life.

Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz) is an “entity crunching” drudge in a future dystopia ruled over by Management (Matt Damon). Workers trek to a mall like working environment, where they use videogame like controllers to evidently process advanced mathematical functions (quite a bit of The Zero Theorem is deliberately discursive, offering visual delights instead of plot specifics). Qohen, who spends much of the film trying to get his boss Joby (David Thewlis) to pronounce his name correctly (Joby calls him “Quinn”), is an odd, antisocial type who is completely bald and who tools around in a long black topcoat, making him look like a cross between a somewhat less menacing Nosferatu and a somewhat elongated Uncle Fester from The Addams Family.

Qohen seems to be nursing some deep wound in his soul, as evidenced by his abhorrence to being touched and his seemingly irrational belief that he is going to receive a phone call (on a rotary phone of course, this being Gilliam) from “the beyond” filling him in on what the purpose of his life is. But he also has a somewhat more understandable desire to simply stop what he sees as a pointless commute, preferring instead to work from home, which in this case is a former Gothic church. Already Gilliam and screenwriter Pat Rushin are stuffing The Zero Theorem full of symbolism and referents, and what better way to establish that we’re in a completely secular, plugged in society than to have Qohen residing in a former (and now of course “useless”) house of worship?

Perhaps Qohen’s oddest attribute is his inability to refer to himself as anything other than “we.” There’s some passing lip service about halfway through the film as to why he engages in this literal “Queen’s English,” though one can’t help but see this as a signifier that Qohen, desperately wanting to establish his individuality throughout the film, has already resigned himself to the “collective,” thereby making his first person plural usage entirely appropriate.

The major plot arc follows Qohen’s new assignment in his home working environment to prove a mysterious Zero Theorem, something that evidently intrigues Management, but which has pushed several previous analysts (including Joby) over the edge into madness, or at least something close (this being Gilliam, it’s often hard to separate the mad from the merely manic). Qohen is sidelined by his attraction to Bainsley (Mélanie Thierry), a beautiful young girl he first meets at a party of Joby’s, but whom he later begins visiting in a virtual world where the two are transported to an idyllic beach where the sun never sets. Meanwhile, Qohen gets putative help from an equally unlikely source, a computer program which provides analysis and which goes by the name Dr. Shrink ROM (Tilda Swinton).

There’s a lot to like, perhaps even admire, in The Zero Theorem, including the expected attributes of a stunning, carnival like production design and Gilliam’s always odd but endearing framings. Little touches like the weird dance Qohen engages in with a street sweeper early in the film give The Zero Theorem a certain antique charm. And there are certainly piquant ideas aplenty jammed into virtually every nook and cranny of the film. Lovers of Gilliam—and I count myself, at least generally, among them—will be able to look past the film’s more inchoate aspects to concentrate on what really works here, which includes a trite but still meaningful depiction of the dehumanization of individuals in an increasingly technological society. Those who don’t cotton to Gilliam’s patented blend of whimsy and hyperbolism will probably feel much like Qohen himself, lost in a world he doesn’t understand and which he really doesn’t even want to participate in.

The Zero Theorem Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

The Zero Theorem is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Well Go USA with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.75:1. Gilliam goes retro with even the aspect ratio here, rounding the corners of the frame, giving the film the look of old Kodachrome film. This was shot on film (perhaps surprising, given what was evidently a fairly skimpy budget for such an effects filled feature), and there's a really appealing depth and thickness to the imagery which Gilliam and his DP Nicola Pecorini exploit quite well. Colors are extremely vibrant, especially in the initial workplace and cityscape scenes, though it's quite evident that the main city set consists of either a matte painting or a backdrop, though it must be said that that very artifice only seems to help make Gilliam's point of how "fake" the world is. Some of the CGI elements, including the "game" Qohen plays to prove the Zero Theorem, are not especially convincing, but again, that may be at least partly intentional. The overall image here is very clear, though somewhat on the soft side, an aspect exacerbated by Gilliam's tendency to shoot into light sources, so that there are effulgent glows emanating around subjects. Contrast is just slightly underbaked looking at times, though some sequences, like the virtual beach world, look fantastic.

The Zero Theorem Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

The Zero Theorem's lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 track nicely supports the typically busy Gilliam soundscape, one that's filled with the bustling sounds of an unhinged urban environment as well as the relatively more peaceful world of Qohen's home sanctuary. Dialogue is cleanly presented, though the odd combination of accents in the film can be a bit of a listening challenge at times (optional subtitles are helpful in this regard). George Fenton's playful score is nicely splayed throughout the surrounds as well. Fidelity is excellent and there are no issues of any kind to report.

The Zero Theorem Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

• Behind the Scenes (1080p; 18:29) has some nice looks at scenes being shot along with some okay interviews. In other words, EPK time.


• Visual Effects (1080p; 6:42) focuses on the film's interesting combination of visual effects.


• Costumes (1080p; 28:28) is a surprisingly in depth piece on both the design and fabrication of the odd outfits in the film.


• The Sets (1080p; 18:17) offers a similar look at sets and production design.


• Theatrical Trailer (1080p; 2:00)

Note: As is the case with most Well Go USA discs, the supplements have been authored to play one after another, at which point the disc auto skips right to the Previews and plays them.

The Zero Theorem Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

The Zero Theorem should certainly be liked, maybe even loved, by Gilliam fans who are especially fond of Brazil. Waltz makes Qohen intriguing, vulnerable and inscrutable in about equal measure, and the large supporting cast seems to be having a field day playing such outré roles. Gilliam's always vivid visual sense is well on display here, and even those who don't care one whit about (or perhaps can't quite figure out) the plot will have plenty to look at in virtually every moment. But The Zero Theorem has quite a bit on its cinematic mind, for those who care to peek beneath the shiny surface. It may not be perfectly realized, but there are some really interesting concepts wafting through this film, albeit replete with Gilliam's baroque sensibilities. Technical merits are generally very strong here and there are also some appealing supplements. Recommended.