The Zero Theorem - Tutto è vanità

Terry Gilliam is back with one of his better films in recent years. It's also one of his more philosophical films, as it grapples with many deep questions, including the meaning of life itself. Gilliam calls "The Zero Theorem" the third instalment in his dystopian satire trilogy, which began with "Brazil" in 1985 and was followed by "Twelve Monkeys" in 1995.

"The Zero Theorem" follows the story of Qohen Leth, a number-crunching programmer at a large corporation called Mancom. While struggling with life in general, Qohen is given the job of solving the zero theorem, a mysterious mathematical equation that continually eludes his grasp. The task is complicated by some new personal relationships when he meets Bainsley, a tempting Internet stripper, and Bob, the 15 year old, genius son of the CEO of Mancom. Have they entered his life to help Qohen, or are they merely unnecessary distractions from his work? Qohen is often unsure about the answer to that question.

The world of the film resembles that of Gilliam's previous two dystopian satires, but this is its own film and it deals with some new themes and conflicts. I'd say the themes and questions are even deeper here, because Gilliam is struggling with the meaning of life itself. Anyway, it all works and leads to an intriguing and visually engaging story. "The Zero Theorem" gets a big thumbs up from me. You should definitely check out this one, especially if you're a fan of Gilliam's earlier work.

Terry Gilliam never makes a totally bad movie (except Jabberwocky, I mean omg). His movies always have a unique visual style and fantastical feel to them.

Though Zero theorem is one of the weaker stories he has told. At the end of the movie the bad guy has to literally explain the movies plot in a monologue, that's how bad the plot is. Brazil or 12 monkeys never felt the need to explain their own plot; you got everything you need to know from actually watching the movie.

So yeah, if you are a die hard fan of Gilliam you should watch it, other wise watch Brazil or 12 Monkeys.

Terry Gilliam has had a couple of motifs running through his movies. "Time Bandits" and "Brazil" (and also the opening sequence of Monty Python's "Meaning of Life") look at the desire to escape from our modern world, while "The Adventures of Baron Munchausen", "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and "The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus" go for full surrealism (I'm not sure where "The Fisher King" fits among these). But with "The Zero Theorem", Gilliam completes an unofficial trilogy: dystopia. "Brazil" depicts a bureaucratic, Orwellian society, while "Twelve Monkeys" depicts a future where a disease has forced humanity underground.

In this movie, Christoph Waltz plays a programmer trying to find out whether or not life has any meaning (hey, an indirect reference to Monty Python's movie). But the society that the programmer inhabits is what caught my eye. It looks like a cross between "Blade Runner" and "Brazil", with a little bit of "Minority Report". Advertisements follow people everywhere. How could anyone even think about life's meaning in this setting?

I actually wasn't as fond of this movie as I was of Gilliam's other movies. It was slower than most of his movies. Of course, one could argue that the movie's philosophical element required it to move slowly. Maybe so, but I still prefer Gilliam's other movies more. Maybe worth seeing once.

There's a black hole swirling at the bottom of Qohen Leth's (Christoph Waltz) soul. He's waiting for a phone call from God, explaining the point of it all. Because at the moment it seems like existence is an erroneous quirk in the cosmic standard of nothingness. Everything will return to nothing, so why make something of life? Love, in the form of romance (Melanie Thierry as Bainsley), friendship (David Thewlis), and parenthood (Lucas Hedges) provides Qohen with the answers, but he's too absorbed in his work on the "Zero Theorem" to accept it.

There are elements of David Cronenberg's Cosmopolis in Qohen's philosophical quest, in the oddball characters he meets along the way, and his perennial absence of feeling. And in the Zen imagery of a nude Waltz spiralling through the void, there's a bit of Darren Aronofsky's The Fountain. Both of those films were more coherent and emotionally engaging than The Zero Theorem, although Terry Gilliam's film grows on you, once you accept that it's not Brazil Part II. There are definite touches of Gilliam's 1985 masterpiece here, particularly the awkward marrying of archaic and ultra-modern technologies. But don't expect a script of Tom Stoppard wit, swerve, and clarity.

Waltz is a fantastic presence – which is necessary, because most of the story plays out in his home: an echochamber of a converted church, whose baptismal font now serves as a washing up bowl. We see him at work, attempting to order the universe via a 3D game block game, fighting against entropy; against the inevitable demise of conscious matter and with it the question: What does it all mean? The problem is, he's waiting for an answer. The very point is uncertainty, the propulsive force of our species.

Whether all this makes for a particularly cinematic experience, I'm not sure. The Cronenberg and Aronofsky films I mentioned were successful because, for all their vast questions, their focus was narrow and their plots simple. The Zero Theorem is at its best when at its least manic – perhaps, its least 'Gilliam-esque' – lost in the quiet intimacy between Qohen and Bainsley. Like Wes Anderson's latest, this feels like the film of an auteur fighting against two opposing impulses. The results, particularly when seen as a straightforward study of depression, are interesting, if not entirely successful.

This film is entertaining, but even though I like Terry Gilliam, there is just something missing. Possibly it's a point. The film has NO point. Maybe that's the point?

But for the whole length of it we are convinced there will be some kind of redemption, some kind of explanation, some kind of reason to watch the damn film in the first place.

Most of it just seems to be ticking boxes for Terry. Awkward protagonist, dystopian future, love interest, people in silly costumes, lots of colours, steam-tech gear, and strange delivery-people.

Yeah and... yeah, where's the point, again? One bit of visual eye-candy I liked was the data-representation system, but I can't describe it here, for the sake of those who haven't seen the film yet.

Look, it's not a crap film, it's just not blindingly evocative and moving. It's certainly no Brazil even though it has things in common (and its a LOT more cheerful). It's no Fisher King. It's not even a Doctor Parnassus.

One purely for the fans I think.