Universal Theory

The Universal Theory: Quantum Mechanics, The Many Worlds theory; Travelers from Parallel Earths, a convention in the Swiss Alps in 1962, all combine to create a fascinating Science Fiction Mystery Thriller. Some have complained that the plot is impenetrable and doesn't entirely hold together but I reckon if they pay closer attention they will realise that some apparent inconsistencies are due to characters flitting between different universes. Some changes are small, in others deaths are reversed. The presence of doppelgangers is important to the unfolding of the narrative as is a love story which transcends parallel universes. Filmed in sparkling monochrome this film could be a homage to many thrillers of the '50s and 60s with scenes lovingly lifted from them. Hitchcock meets Welles with a soupcon of Lynch and a dash of Kubrick. The mountain scenery and snow adds to the film's allure. Directed by Timm Kröger,from a screenplay by Kröger & Roderick Warich. 8/10.

I loved this film. Beautifully shot in the Austrian Alps, with an ingenious script, excellent cast and absolutely superb score, the plot (taking place during a physicists' conference in Switzerland in 1962) plays with ideas about metaverses or alternative realities. The dominant, expressionist score (occasionally quoting Bernard Hermann's from Vertigo) reminds us that we are in a world of film, not reality. On the other hand, the opening scene tells us that the narrative is of real and not fictional events. This play on realities becomes overt towards the end, when we witness a 'film within a film'. A film has been made of the book on which our film is based - and it has changed key events in the story! This is a multi-layered film that intrigues without being confusing, delights and entertains while presenting profound ideas, and will live with you long after the closing credits have ended.

Aspiring physicist "Johannes" (Jan Bülow) is traveling with his tutor "Strathen" (Hanns Zischler) to a conference in Switzerland, aware that his rather radical thinking has narked his professor who wishes him to conform to more established theories. Indeed things are distinctly tense between them when they encounter "Blumberg" (Gottfried Breitfuss) on their train. He has some past with "Strathen" which isn't exactly friendly, but they continue their journey together with the young man promised any help he needs to get his dissertation over the line. Once they arrive, "Johannes" gets caught up in one of the many storms that frequent their mountainside hotel and seeks refuge in a church. Likewise, a few moments later, does "Karin" (Olivia Ross). He's immediately smitten but she doesn't hang around for long enough to even exchange names. Luckily for him, she happens to play the piano in the hotel's jazz bar and so maybe a meeting can happen after all? It's almost simultaneous with their arrival that he starts to feel distinctively out-of-sorts. A sense of déjà-vu often seems to follow him as he feels he has met her before somewhere. Her bauhaus vacillates between the distant and (very) friendly, which he doesn't really comprehend either. Also, his timelines seem to be jumping about and when the avuncular "Blumberg" falls foul of a tragedy his befuddlement takes on an whole new life of it's own? What is going on here? It's as if the mountain has it's own secrets to keep? Is it all just too much wine? Or is there something more sinister going on? His is a mind of the rational and the scientific - ill equipped for matters ethereal or superstitious, so when the police come calling asking questions about the enigmatic "Karin", what can he make of it all? There are some quite intriguing threads to the story, here, as it tries to intertwine the factual with the less easily explicable and the snowscapes, frosty characterisation of "Strathen" and monochrome presentation add effectively chilling elements as the plot reveals a sense of the we know that we are missing something, but we don't know what it is, and we might never know. Unfortunately, Bülow is a bit weak to carry this off, and the annoyingly fragmented story flits about too much to give us chance to really get our teeth into it. Sure, it's quirky, unpredictable and requires us to think on more than one plain at a time, but I found it just didn't give me enough pitons to climb the mountain without sliding down far too often to square one. It does look good and does remind us that perhaps science hasn't all the answers, but I left feeling a little like "Johannes". Bemused.

Positive: Beautiful black and withe cinematography, mixing 50's -60's edition. Comparable to some Hollywood classics. The music also feeds the atmosphere with this noirish style.

Negative: The storytelling. From the first scene, the director gives away the ending. The viewer knows the conclusion, and not only because it's a well explored subject in recent times, but because the main character say it. There are also characters that are totally irrelevant to the story. The director decides to smash the relationship between the 2 "main characters", to then explore the final days of the protagonist, which is also irrelevant, because we know it from the beginning.

A good idea, poorly written/directed.

A spontaneous decision to squeeze in one more film at Film Fest Gent made for one of my most enjoyable discoveries of the festival. After watching this B&W German film noir hommage, at a film festival, on a Tuesday afternoon, I jokingly said to my girlfriend (who I had been dragging along from film to film for three days) that she had now officially become a cinephile. Surprisingly however, I seem to be part of a rather small minority that absolutely loved this film, be it amongst those cinephiles or more casual movie go-ers.

In my opinion, Die Theorie von Allem wonderfully combines influences from many different genres to become something entirely new and exciting in its own right. The film most obviously borrows elements from film noir for most of its runtime (both in terms of plot and aesthetics), before giving way to a more surreal, almost Lynchian atmosphere in its final act. There was just so much to like for me in this film, from the many noir references to the gripping sequence where the protagonist literally goes through the rabbit hole, but the one thing that stood out to me was the absolutely gorgeous B&W cinematography. Filming this in black and white was an obvious stylistic choice to fit the typical noir material, but it also turned out to be surprisingly well suited to the decor of the film. The B&W shots of the stunning Alpine landscapes offer an original, mysterious and equally ravishing perspective on the imposing beauty of those high Swiss mountains. From the first shot of the film (after a short prologue in color), with a completely black background and more and more small flakes of snow slowly falling down the screen, I was completely hooked.

In short: Die Theorie von Allem starts off as a pitch perfect film noir hommage set in the Swiss Alps, gradually mixes in some classic Hitchcock thriller elements, before ultimately slipping out of our reach like an elusive Tarkovsky dream. By the end it's more Meshes of the Afternoon or The Mirror than The Third Man or Vertigo (it's certainly no coincidence that the film is preceded by a quote from avant-garde legend Maya Deren about myths, fact and fiction). Given that I love all of these influences, I guess I was the perfect target audience for this film, which did effectively make for an immensely satisfying experience watching it on the big screen at Film Fest Gent. The odds are pretty big that I'll be rewatching this on some dark and cold winter evening to soak in its dreamlike atmosphere and take in its beautiful imagery once more.