The Zero TheoremDoes life have any higher meaning, or is our quest for transcendence just a delusion to divest ourselves from reality? The Zero Theorem is a dystopian black comedy and science fiction film about a neurotic computer programmer and "entity cruncher" named Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz). Qohen is tasked by "Management" (Matt Damon) to solve the ultimate theoretical quandary, dubbed "The Zero Theorem", which is designed to prove that existence has no meaning. Qohen's heretofore gradual psychological breakdown escalates as he struggles with the paradox, while his resistances to intimacy are chipped away by a bubbly and flirtatious acquaintance named Bainsley (Mélanie Thierry).
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Directed by Terry Gilliam, The Zero Theorem has been described as a part of his "Orwellian triptych", alongside Brazil and 12 Monkeys. Like Brazil, The Zero Theorem depicts a funhouse mirror version of the future, exaggerating mundane aspects of modern society to the point of absurdity. Qohen is introduced as a bald, naked man sitting in front of his computer, using a video game controller to decode complex mathematical formulae from the Gothic cathedral he calls home. He performs a succession of meaningless computing rituals from his office at Mancom--an uber-corporation that is a cross between Google and Orwell's "Big Brother". This includes such absurd details as peddling while crunching entities, and periodically swapping glowing test tubes with an unseen person hiding behind a small door in his cubicle--all while enduring the smarmy condescension of his supervisor, Joby (David Thewlis). Qohen begs for the opportunity to work from home, convinced that a phone call he's expecting will reveal the meaning of life to him, and he doesn't want to miss it. These details paint the world of The Zero Theorem as a cynical satire of consumerism and corporate dehumanization. Qohen has several idiosyncrasies--he doesn't like to be touched, he dresses almost exclusively in black, and refers to himself as "we" instead of "I". Since Qohen has adopted the traits of an ascetic, it's no coincidence that he's sequestered himself in a former monastery turned townhouse. He is a neutral, sterile victim of social overload, fleeing from the likes of advertisements which assault him as he walks through the crowded city streets, filled with ridiculous slogans and meaningless products. Bainsley comes on strong (especially for Qohen), always looking the part of a fetishistic pinup doll; yet her introduction into his life is literally a breath of fresh air--she saves him from choking to death on an hors d'oeuvre. She forces her way into his home one night, clad in a skintight, latex nurse's outfit-- it is deliberately erotic and implies that she is there to "fix" what ails him, since he has lost his pulse with life. Bainsley moonlights as an online sex worker and was commissioned by Management to motivate him into cracking The Zero Theorem. She asserts that she truly loves Qohen and enjoys his company; but can she be believed? Bainsley refuses to engage in sex in the real world, insisting only on virtual encounters. These sublime fantasies are set on a tropical island, where she and Qohen frolic on the sand and in the waves. It's pretty, but is it love? For Qohen--who already has difficulty distinguishing between fantasy and reality--it becomes just another paradox.
The Zero Theorem shares similarities with other dystopian classics. Qohen's clean-shaven scalp emphasizes the destruction of his individuality; he is just another cog in the great "machine", like the protagonist in George Lucas's THX 1138. Yet he embraces this disintegration of uniqueness; his efforts to appear "weird" are on a different wavelength than the weirdness affecting everyone else in The Zero Theorem, making his a paradoxical form of rebellion against the brand of identity peddled by society. More obvious are the parallels between The Zero Theorem and 1984--Management and Big Brother are cut from the same cloth, and the monotonous busy work the protagonists do is designed to crush their drive to escape their totalitarian oppression. Management maintains a vast network of surveillance, including a camera substituting for the head of Jesus on the cross in Qohen's home, staring down at him with clinical indifference. Management often lurks within patterned backgrounds, wearing matching suits that act as corporate camouflage, letting him monitor his subjects without their noticing. Matt Damon's performance as Management shares the same superior detachment that Richard Burton brought in his portrayal of O'Brien--an unfeeling higher power looking down on Qohen like he were an ant. Were Qohen the only oddball in The Zero Theorem, he would be a comical caricature; but he is surrounded by people who behave as though they were normal, despite being clearly off-center. Joby constantly refers to Qohen as "Quinn", and is wearing a tiger costume at his party for unexplained reasons. Management's son, Bob (Lucas Hedges), is a gifted programming savant whose youth and privilege give him an unhealthy level of arrogance. He refuses to address other people by their real names, since he claims it takes too much valuable processing power away from his brain. Even the woman who delivers Qohen's talking pizza wears a bizarre silver top that exposes her cleavage and midriff; if she glided in on roller skates, it wouldn't be surprising. (Adding to the absurdity of a talking pizza, Qohen protesting eating it on the basis that he doesn't eat food that tastes like anything anymore.) Qohen has visions of a black hole, swallowing up and obliterating everything that comes into contact with it. In a virtual session with Bainsley, he envisions himself being devoured by the nothingness--a naked and terrifying being, powerless to stop this cosmic force from destroying him. Even compared to12 Monkeys, The Zero Theorem feels nihilistic; the eponymous theorem is deliberately designed not just to question the meaning of life, but the point of it. Qohen becomes increasingly manic and flustered at his assignment, which is truly impossible, making "zero equal one-hundred percent". He begins to doubt his heretofore embittered outlook on reality, speaking to the fundamental irony and moral of such a quest--the meaning isn't in the answer but in the question.
Recommended for: Fans of a cynical yet intelligent contemplation ranging from the soul-crushing aspects of consumer oversaturation, corporate dehumanization, and the befuddling process of searching for meaning in life when life seems to have no meaning. The Zero Theorem is best suited for audiences that enjoys social satire filled with off-kilter humor and colorful imagery, poking fun at our willingness to accept slavery for the sake of convenience.
The Zero Theorem shares similarities with other dystopian classics. Qohen's clean-shaven scalp emphasizes the destruction of his individuality; he is just another cog in the great "machine", like the protagonist in George Lucas's THX 1138. Yet he embraces this disintegration of uniqueness; his efforts to appear "weird" are on a different wavelength than the weirdness affecting everyone else in The Zero Theorem, making his a paradoxical form of rebellion against the brand of identity peddled by society. More obvious are the parallels between The Zero Theorem and 1984--Management and Big Brother are cut from the same cloth, and the monotonous busy work the protagonists do is designed to crush their drive to escape their totalitarian oppression. Management maintains a vast network of surveillance, including a camera substituting for the head of Jesus on the cross in Qohen's home, staring down at him with clinical indifference. Management often lurks within patterned backgrounds, wearing matching suits that act as corporate camouflage, letting him monitor his subjects without their noticing. Matt Damon's performance as Management shares the same superior detachment that Richard Burton brought in his portrayal of O'Brien--an unfeeling higher power looking down on Qohen like he were an ant. Were Qohen the only oddball in The Zero Theorem, he would be a comical caricature; but he is surrounded by people who behave as though they were normal, despite being clearly off-center. Joby constantly refers to Qohen as "Quinn", and is wearing a tiger costume at his party for unexplained reasons. Management's son, Bob (Lucas Hedges), is a gifted programming savant whose youth and privilege give him an unhealthy level of arrogance. He refuses to address other people by their real names, since he claims it takes too much valuable processing power away from his brain. Even the woman who delivers Qohen's talking pizza wears a bizarre silver top that exposes her cleavage and midriff; if she glided in on roller skates, it wouldn't be surprising. (Adding to the absurdity of a talking pizza, Qohen protesting eating it on the basis that he doesn't eat food that tastes like anything anymore.) Qohen has visions of a black hole, swallowing up and obliterating everything that comes into contact with it. In a virtual session with Bainsley, he envisions himself being devoured by the nothingness--a naked and terrifying being, powerless to stop this cosmic force from destroying him. Even compared to12 Monkeys, The Zero Theorem feels nihilistic; the eponymous theorem is deliberately designed not just to question the meaning of life, but the point of it. Qohen becomes increasingly manic and flustered at his assignment, which is truly impossible, making "zero equal one-hundred percent". He begins to doubt his heretofore embittered outlook on reality, speaking to the fundamental irony and moral of such a quest--the meaning isn't in the answer but in the question.
Recommended for: Fans of a cynical yet intelligent contemplation ranging from the soul-crushing aspects of consumer oversaturation, corporate dehumanization, and the befuddling process of searching for meaning in life when life seems to have no meaning. The Zero Theorem is best suited for audiences that enjoys social satire filled with off-kilter humor and colorful imagery, poking fun at our willingness to accept slavery for the sake of convenience.