Die Theorie von Allem

I was carried away with the impression that the film would be special, but although it is special, it is not unique. Why? Well, it has a mix of many styles. As I see now, some in here wrote in their reviews the same thing I think about this movie, that it is a mixture of some Hitchcock and Lynch style of story making and filming. The main factor of the story is the mystery. It starts you hoping to meet the unexpected, but then you come to a corner of boring and slow rhythm, when you lose that hope you had at the beginning. Nevertheless, the movie is not bad, but it could be better in some parts, like in those scenes in the snow where some facts are missing. I guess the author is a fan of quantum physics, astronomy and relativity and I appreciate that. :)

The Universal Theory is a brooding and cerebral tale, blending mystery, science fiction, noir, and mad love. While it may disappoint genre fans seeking a pure science fiction experience, it excels as a haunting meditation on identity and desire. Rather than exploring scientific concepts in depth, it uses the aesthetic of science fiction to evoke pensive moods and profound existential questions. Though one of many recent multiverse movies, The Universal Theory stands apart, offering a unique and deeply emotional take on the concept.

Cultural touchpoints abound in reviews of the film, and rightfully so. Hitchcock, Truffaut, Lynch, Carol Reed, Dürrenmatt, and Maya Deren have all been referenced, and these comparisons feel apt. More surgically, I'd add Dead Mountaineer's Hotel (Grigori Kromanov's 1979 film and the 1970 novel by the Strugatsky Brothers) and Julien Duvivier's L'affaire Maurizius (1954). Dead Mountaineer's Hotel, another alpine-set sci-fi noir, seems like the film's clearest ancestor, while the paranoia, investigation, and shadows of Swiss-set L'affaire Maurizius resonate here too. And yet, for all its influences, The Universal Theory feels startlingly original, much like Alien-a film that, despite being a swag bag of looted stories and motifs, became its own iconic entity.

The story takes place in the 1950s, when a mysterious physics conference is arranged at a remote, snow-set Swiss hotel. Physics Professor Dr. Stratten and his doctoral student Johannes Leinert travel there, to find out more about the conference. However, the scientific gathering quickly fades into the background as strange occurrences and the enigmatic Karin capture Johannes' attention. Karin, with her jazz-inflected rendition of Couperin's Les Barricades Mystérieuses, embodies the film's central mystery: beautiful and endlessly elusive.

The Universal Theory uses its science fiction framework not for scientific exploration but to probe the fragility of human existence. There is a pervasive sense that something is slightly "off" about reality. A brilliant career reduced to mediocrity by an inexplicable obstacle. Profound declarations of love rebuffed by those we believed were our soulmates. Sliding-doors moments subtly alter the trajectories of lives: in one reality, a professor has ties to the Soviets; in another, he leans west. These questions linger: Could we be anyone? Are our identities largely circumstantial?

This is not a film for those who need clear answers or a neatly tied narrative. Like Couperin's piece, The Universal Theory is intricate and ambiguous, inviting viewers to reflect rather than resolve. Its particular cocktail of genres is niche, and its appeal may not be universal-as evidenced by the bemused silence of my fellow audience members as the credits rolled. Yet, I found myself deeply moved, clapping alone, the film's strange, shadowed beauty resonating long after the lights came back on.

The Universal Theory is a niche masterpiece of strangeness, shadows, and love-sickness. For those willing to embrace its haunting mystery, it offers an unforgettable cinematic experience.

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.

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.

It's not that often that a German-language film makes it into competition at the Venice Film Festival. The German director Timm KRÖGER, who was born in Itzehoe in 1985, succeeded in this this year. His film THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING is a shocker, illustrated in black and white cinemascope, that is extremely unusual and has a long-lasting impact in its intensity.

In a framework we see a seemingly typical talk show appearance from 1974: The author Johannes Leinert (Jan BÜLOW) presents his debut novel THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING. Apparently this is his own story, which is said to have happened twelve years earlier. Johannes of the year 1962 is on the way to a physics conference in the Swiss Alps with his doctoral supervisor (Hanns ZISCHLER). Once there, everything was delayed because the well-known physicist from Tehran was not yet allowed to leave. The scientists spend their time in the snow more often than not. Johannes meets a mysterious pianist (Olivia ROSS) who knows a surprising amount about him and his youth. When one of the professors (Gottfried BREITFUSS) is found dead and horribly mutilated, events take on increasingly mysterious features...

In beautiful images, Timm KRÖGER unfolds a stylish homage to film history and at the same time delivers an impressive puzzle with the passage of time in the 20th century. How all of this is connected is left to the interpretation of the individual viewer. The form and image design are based on German-language film history at the beginning of the 1960s, without neglecting international influences. In addition to cinematic role models such as HITCHCOCK and RESNAIS, one should also think of literary role models from KAFKA to Thomas MANN (DER ZAUBERBERG / THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN) to Friedrich DÜRRENMATT (DIE PHYSIKER / THE PHYSICS). But genre film influences from the Edgar Wallace films that were so popular at the time can also be seen. How well director KRÖGER knows film history is also shown in the treat that Johannes' novel is being filmed under the title LA TEORIA DEL TUTTO by the Roman Cinecitta, which was Hollywood's biggest challenger in those days. It is also wonderful that the exceptional German director Dominik GRAF (DIE KATZE / DIE SIEGER / FABIAN: GOING TO THE DOGS) was able to be won over as the narrator.

This film is extremely enjoyable, but may be too scattered and aimless for some moviegoers. But Timm KRÖGER has definitely achieved a great success, which once again shows us today's filmgoers the almost inexplicable fragmentation of world events in the 20th century. A film like this really comes at the right time!