The Zero Theorem

One of few modern auteurs who deserves to be called visionary, Terry Gilliam is at his best when creating sprawling, colorful worlds and then placing the people who populate those worlds into claustrophobic nightmares. From the sinister hotels and casinos of Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas to the dank, dystopian underworld of 12 Monkeys, no other director can make audiences feel so isolated in such big, bustling environments.

Following a slump that included The Brothers Grimm and The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, Gilliam returns to form with The Zero Theorem. Something of an unofficial retro-futuristic companion to his masterpiece, Brazil, this new film's central McGuffin is no less than the origins and potential destruction of the universe. Since this is Gilliam, the secrets of the cosmos aren't sought by gangsters or mystics, but rather by office drones. At the whims of an evil bigwig (a surprise cameo too great to spoil here), these workers extract "elements" from what looks like a primitive PlayStation system.

One of those drones is Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz), an unhinged introvert withdrawn from the celebrity-, sex- and commodity-focused world around him, which looks like a pastel-splattered Katy Perry video as conceived by an adult movie site.

Naturally, Qohen wants nothing more than to work from his home—an old, gothic monastery devoid of light or charm—when tasked with proving the Zero Theorem, which foresees the end of the universe. A shell of a man who refers to himself in the first-person plural, Qohen is so numb to stimulus that he can't even recall the last time he felt, well, anything.

So once again, Gilliam builds a grandiose world, only to lock his audience in a room with a brilliant nutjob. Qohen is constantly interrupted by his own hallucinations and by outsiders, including his boss (a particularly whacked-out David Thewlis), the bigwig's genius son (Lucas Hedges) and a prostitute (Melanie Thierry) who eventually—through kindness and a little psychedelic virtual sex—unearths dormant emotions.

It's all very weird, anchored by gorgeous visuals and a twitchy, uncharacteristically oddball turn from Waltz, who tones down the charisma that scored him Oscars for Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Like many of Gilliam's stranger works, it's not for everybody. But it remains a wildly imaginative and satisfying exploration of the loss—and recovery—of emotion in a world of anonymity.

Critic's Grade: B

SEE IT: The Zero Theorem is rated R. It opens Friday at Hollywood Theatre and Kiggins Theatre.

WWeek 2015