A Review of Terry GIlliam's "The Zero Theorem" - Page 2

Frankie Metro: The opening scene when Qohen steps out to go to work reminds me of my 45 min walks in downtown Denver. Fucking EVO bikes, free mall rides, crazy people, autocycles, cops everywhere… it stresses me out and makes my bottom lip dry/bleed even watching it on screen. I'm assuming Vancouver isn't like this? 

Dale Winslow: Vancouver can be bonkers but definitely not like that scene. I live in Victoria and it is a hamlet - I don't think we have hit 500,000 people in the greater area. You would love it ;)

Frankly, I like to imagine I'd love anywhere other than where I am but I carry excessive luggage and pack like a minimalist everywhere I turn. As Mancom's branded slogan assures everyone in the film: ‘Everything is under control. Mancom.’ 

In a world marked with streaming services, influencer capital, digital currency and a flux of remote jobs not yet replaced by more efficient AI candidates, do you think people like Terry Gilliam, David Cronenberg, and Frank Herbert, their view of the future was more fortuitous than the “dystopian” vision their films are often categorized on Netflix etc.?

DW: Oooooo that's a great question. ‘fortuitous’ in what way?

In that they saw the future like fortune tellers, what are the chances these guys were right about how the future is unfolding?

DW: I think they are right on the mark. Life contains multitudes of micro dystopias and utopias. Any critical examination of the state of the world provides massive amounts of fodder for tales of both the light and dark places humanity can travel. Whether it is 1984, Zero Theorem, or Idiocracy, the core themes are the same – control, dehumanization, and despair, to name a few. Stories about the seeds and consequences of dystopic forces and the resilience of humans in retaining the characteristics of humanity are part of our collective history. The basic packaging of the cautionary tale comes from the time the writer lives in. Charlie Brooker’s Black Mirror series is fantastic and Alex Garland’s Civil War is chilling. The concerning question is, given the effects of online “living” and the surreptitious control of the masses by tech elites, is anyone paying attention to these cautionary tales? Is anyone paying real critical attention to anything anymore? Do you know how close the world is to a dystopic place if you are placated and distracted? Do you even care, if you are being overwhelmed? Will you follow the White Rabbit? Perhaps we are entering a technological Dark Age and on the other side is our evolutionary Renaissance. 

***

I keep telling myself bouts of visual impairment since the fryer incident will eventually fade and I’ll be able to see one sound perspective. The truth is the blind spots are getting noticeably more frequent; if I look away for an instant I can see dark halos surrounding my head, and I’ll search for something that’s in front of me for 20 minutes before I eventually forget what I was doing in the first place. I say the rash on my neck is from tinea versicolor but I suspect that it’s more than all that; it’s DRESS, I’m letting these pills get the best of me when they’re meant to keep me safe. I noticed some swelling around my left temporal lobe in the shower and convinced myself that it was from leaning my neck against the basin of the tub and leaving a bruise I can’t explain. I’m becoming even more reclusive and suffering from what David Foster Wallace once called an aimless addiction: TV. My new escape plan involves ignoring the catastrophes that wait beyond the front door. 

I want no further discussion about the subject. 

My neurologist hasn’t set up a new appointment; obviously I’m fine, it’s fine, I’m fine, it’s fine. I went to the Urgent Care Center on 6/16/26 after viral symptoms became more pronounced. Dr. Zer isn’t able to test for the flu, flu season is months away.

Mason Thrash replied to an email that if I pass ‘just a few more UAs’, he’s removing the testing requirements from my file; if I pay my court fees before August, I’m eligible for a quick probationary discharge. It only takes screenshots from HR’s compassionate replies to my dilemma, a picture of an IV in my arm, and a doctor’s note stating that I’m contagious and bedridden, for a reprieve from pissing in another plastic tube.

One of my favorite aspects of Gilliam’s ZT script is the Ontological Research Division. When Qohen approaches the board of Mancom-approved medical specialists for a remote position, they observe, without regards to HIPPA, that his 5 physicals from the last year say he is perfectly fit for the office commute and bawdy interactions with other commercial quantum analysts.

 

 

“Nevertheless, we're dying.”

When MANCOM finally begins its present day siege of control, it doesn’t take long for GENERAL MOTORS to LAY OFF 1500 workers. I’m reminded that in the course of dialogue between myself and The ZT, the human experience is of little consequence. I think of trying to have sex in a digital capacity, wearing fiber optic contraception in the near future. 

Terry Gilliam foresees data center installations 13 years ago… What the actual fuck is going on? While art imitates life or life has a stranglehold on art, I have no idea how to answer the questions when interrogated about my current occupation: 

Q: “Us? We crush entities?”

Bainsley: “You got a mouse in your pocket?” 

It’s becoming a comfortable coffin, I can’t pronounce Chaise Lounge chair properly, and sliding into this new role as a disabled worker, during my own private session with Dr. Shrink-Rom (Tilda Swinton), yea, I’ll admit:

Q: “At present, we feel no joy.” 

I also suffer from a fear of death, fear or life, fear of open spaces, fear of closed spaces, fear of people and ultimately the fear of missing an important phone call/calling. 

Q: "we fear... nothing… fear many things, but ultimately we fear nothing more than anything". 

When approached with the prospect of love, I can also say, without hesitation:

Q: “We'd only disappoint you as we have countless others.”

I lie to myself, admit all is for nothing and call my current state solitude, not isolation. I act from desperation, call it purpose, and can interpret an algorithmic formula where 0 equals 99.9% and management’s son dies from SUDEP. 

I’m sent another text message from HR:

We no longer require your services. This is your official notice of termination.