Charlie Kaufman’s inventive, solipsistic narratives have consistently left cinephiles spellbound since he collaborated with Spike Jonze to reify Being John Malkovich in 1999. Through his screenplays for both Jonze and French filmmaker Michel Gondry, Kaufman earned a reputation few screenwriters attain. His distinct voice leapt off the page and manifested itself as a palpable entity onscreen. It has been seven years since Kaufman tried his hand at directing with Synecdoche, New York, and now he has discovered yet another fresh method through which to present his meditations on the intricacies and significance of human interaction.

Anomalisa is a claustrophobic stop-motion adventure that echoes much of the text present in Synecdoche, but funnels it through a decidedly less convoluted portal of expression. The great majority of the film takes place in a hotel, cleverly and relevantly titled “The Fregoli,” in which businessman Michael Stone (exceptionally voiced by David Thewlis) spends the night before giving a speech about the customer service industry. Like all of Kaufman’s protagonists, he is insatiably dissatisfied with his life, which he feels is despairingly mundane. The city of Cincinnati, in which the imaginary hotel is located, reverberates with blandness. Everyone Michael encounters seems to be repeating the same tired taglines. They insist he try the famous chili and proclaim he absolutely must see the zoo. Unsurprisingly, Michael has zero interest in either suggestion.

In terms of design, Kaufman, in collaboration with Duke Johnson, has cultivated an ability to frame his material so it’s both creative and digestible. With Anomalisa, Kaufman finds inspiration on a smaller scale, but manages to maintain an active imagination within the boundaries of his aesthetic. He and Johnson meticulously craft the architecture of The Fregoli to sculpt the oppressive impression of isolation in the mind of their audience. One paranoid dream sequence in the film’s second half is particularly impressive. Like past projects, his recent venture into animation once again ruminates on how banal and unfulfilling our lives are. Anomalisa, perhaps even more so than Synecdoche, is obsessed with the idea that nothing in life is truly concrete outside of one’s intrinsic awareness of the self. Nothing occurring within our lives is obtainable outside of the fact that we are able to think and perceive. Labeling Kaufman as a nihilist would be inaccurate. He affirms that life can be meaningful, but only in fleeting moments. If anything, he’s a miserablist, creatively trapped in his bleak interpretation of human existence.

Many viewers will relate to his desolate conclusion and find solace in his art, but the thesis that long-term happiness is essentially unachievable registers as unforgiving as opposed to illuminating. The brief moment of joy shared between Michael and a woman he encounters at the hotel, Lisa (Jennifer Jason Leigh), is undermined by a final lament that deconstructs the daunting image of its true value. These fleeting moments Kaufman illustrates become memories, and they, in navigating a dark and inhospitable world, are what we must cling to. Our survival is ensured not by genuine satisfaction, but by an image of it. After all, isn’t a memory just an image of a prior experience? According to Anomalisa, the experiences that form these memories are few and far between, and the majority of days we walk the earth, we will inevitably fail to encounter such happiness. In a world where aging couples can maintain a romance that began a half-century earlier, and where parents can lovingly watch their children develop into young men and women, the ideas underneath Michael’s existential crisis register as possessing little truth in the grand scheme of things. It’s not times of happiness that are ephemeral, but times of sorrow. Kaufman does sporadically use dry wit to assuage the misery of his conceit, and the intricacies of his aesthetic exhibit remarkable craftsmanship. But anyone with a generally positive disposition toward life will find very little insight in Anomalisa’s pervasive cloud of existential darkness.

Originally published on November 17th, 2015 as part of our AFI Festival coverage.

Terry Gilliam is no stranger to absurd dystopian science-fiction films. His best work came early in his career with films like Brazil and Twelve Monkeys, and his latest film The Zero Theorem feels like an extension to those titles. Written by a creative writing teacher from the University of Central Florida (Pat Rushin), The Zero Theorem takes a satirical stab at a dystopian future — mocking big government, commercialization, our fascination with always being connected, and even the meaning of life itself. Unfortunately, the outcome is neither as funny nor fascinating as it should be, though after a decade of disappointment from the filmmaker it’s at least a step in the right direction.

Set in an Orwellian future, an introvert computer hacker Qohen Leth (Christoph Waltz) attempts to convince Management (played by a white-haired Matt Damon) for the opportunity to work from home, claiming he would double his work output. Though efficiency isn’t the real reason Qohen is so adamant about working from home. It’s actually so that he won’t miss an important phone call from a mysterious party (for reasons not explained until later). Management compromises by letting him work from home as long as he spends his time solving the equation for the meaning of life, aka Zero Theorem. Only in a Gilliam film is finding the meaning of life a difficult task and not an impossible one. But Qohen is willing to accept this challenge.

Frequent interruptions prevent the recluse from making any breakthroughs on Zero Theorem. Perhaps none more distracting than the beautiful bombshell Bainsley (Mélanie Thierry), who shows up at his door after meeting him at a party. She is easily attracted to him, for no reason other than to move the plot forward, and her character has as much depth as a blank canvas. Bainsley distracts him from his work so much that Management sends his cocky whiz-kid son Bob (Lucas Hedges) to help keep Qohen focused on the task at hand.

For a film with such high concepts and philosophies, The Zero Theorem has some serious logic flaws. It’s unfitting that Management doesn’t enforce any rules despite showing authority. Especially considering Qohen is constantly under surveillance by cameras in his home and follows orders from Management. But for some reason the computer genius gets the luxury of deciding to keep working on a never-ending math problem or calling it quits for a beautiful woman. Which seems like a no-brainer, even for a dim-witted person like myself. Putting logic aside, the major themes of the film involving how life is both meaningful and meaningless are successfully carried out. Just don’t expect it to make a lot of sense.

Although the writing is uneven, the acting on the other hand is an area in which The Zero Theorem excels. Most of the weight is put on the shoulders of Christoph Waltz and as usual he handles the load with ease. His portrayal of an isolated computer genius on the verge of a mental breakdown is divine. The young Hedges serves as a solid companion to Waltz, bringing a lot of the same eccentric energy to his character that Brad Pitt did in Twelve Monkeys. Both Matt Damon and Tilda Sinwton are barely on-screen enough to call for much discussion, but do well with their limited screen time. Mélanie Thierry was doomed from the start as her character is so poorly written as a glorified “booth babe”, simply eye-candy with little substance.

It’s unfortunate most of The Zero Theorem takes place indoors because when the film ventures outside, a beautiful fantasy world is brought to life. In Gilliam’s vision of the future, smart cars zip down streets lined with people wearing bright neon colors, with large electronic billboards far and wide. All of the energy and flashing colors from the city is completely unlike the dark and claustrophobic dungeon where Qohen spends most of his time. On top of the gorgeous production design, Gilliam employs his signature off-kilter camera angles to emphasis the satire bend and circus-like theatrics.

Unfortunately, The Zero Theorem lands in the middle of the road in terms of Gilliam’s work. The film doesn’t reach the levels that Brazil, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, or Twelve Monkeys did, though it easily surpasses his most recent efforts in Tideland and The Brothers Grimm. The Zero Theorem stumbles not for a lack of ambition, but a misfiring of good ideas ultimately stretched too thin. Ironically, The Zero Theorem preaches everything while trying to convince the audience that the film actually amounts to something.

Get a glimpse inside the mind of a brilliant man, at the woman who loved him, and the body that let him down. Director James Marsh (Oscar-winner for the documentary Man on Wire) chronicles the fascinating life of theoretical physicist and cosmologist Stephen Hawking, bringing the story back to Hawking’s time as an able-bodied young student at the University of Cambridge. Despite being diagnosed with motor neurone disease at 21 years old and being given a life expectancy of 2 years from that point, Hawking to this day delivers out highly influential findings on matters of spacetime and black holes.

Starring as the famed scientist is Eddie Redmayne (My Week with Marilyn, Les Miserables), whose physical transformation looks remarkable from the trailer alone. He stars alongside Felicity Jones (Like Crazy, a potential upcoming Black Cat spinoff from The Amazing Spider-Man 2) who plays Hawking’s first wife Jane Wilde. In real life, the couple divorced in 1995 (Hawking re-married later that year only to get divorced once again in 2006) but it’s unclear if The Theory of Everything will dive that far into Hawking’s present. Both performers have been regarded as potential Oscar nominees for their roles in this film.

The Theory of Everything will also star Emily Watson, David Thewlis and Charlie Cox. Check out the new trailer, released just today, below:

Movie Still from The Theory of Everything

Dangled before us since early last year, Terry Gilliam’s highly anticipated next film The Zero Theorem has a new international trailer that continues to tantalize us. With a vague “Summer 2014” expected US release, the film follows Qohen Leth, played by a very pale and bald Cristoph Waltz, an existentially angst riddled man in an Orwellian future. Qohen is a reclusive computer genius obsessed with his task of uncovering the meaning of life. Unwanted visitors continue to interrupt his progress, including a seductress played by Mélanie Thierry.

David Thewlis, Matt Damon and Tilda Swinton also star. Swinton, playing a character named Dr. Shrink-Rom and sporting a crazy set of fake teeth, proves she can act right through any ridiculous costume. Though it’s hard to remember the  last role she had where she wasn’t playing an on-screen caricature.

At any rate, The Zero Theorem is part of Gilliam’s “Orwellian triptych” which includes his 1985 film Brazil and 1995’s 12 Monkeys. Both of are some of his best work and decidedly better than recent endeavors such as The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, Tideland, and I won’t even mention a certain disappointing 2005 fairy tale flick. Glad to see Gilliam back at what he does best.

Check out the new trailer.

International Trailer for The Zero Theorem