Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Timm Kröger
Starring: Jan Bülow, Olivia Ross, Hanns Zischler, Gottfried Breitfuss
The Universal Theory, Timm Kröger's (with writing support from Roderick Warich)
historical-quantum-pastiche-thriller itself takes its eager audience on a
time travel trip to cold war contexts and Hitchcockian presentations. A
fealty to gorgeous period recreation is established early, with an
introduction set in the gaudy mise-en-scene of a late-night 70s German TV
chat show. The hauntology is vivid: patterned suits, male jewellery and an
imprudent air of instability which pleasingly recalls continental
late-night channel switching in holiday hotels...
The retro precision continues with the arrival of a drunken guest,
Johannes Leinert (Jan Bülow), an author whose new sci-fi novel
grapples with multiverse concepts and doomed love. Poor old Johannes is
everything you'd want from a writer on these sorts of intimate, archaic
broadcasts: a couple of whiskies to the bad and bedraggled, his eyes bug
as he insists to the wryly condescending host that his novel is "not a
fantasy novel at all" and is in fact a warning of sorts (bring back
authors on chat shows, btw. Let's see Rachel Kushner on Graham Norton,
Olga Tokarczuk as a Loose Woman: amazing).
The agitated writer ups and leaves the studio in distress (the dramatic
walk out is another forgotten chat show trope we need more of) and we cut
with disorientating juxtaposition to a younger, more together Johannes of
12 years earlier as he travels to the Canton of the Grisons, Switzerland.
The colourful visual set of the opening freezes to expansive monochrome,
the frame opening wide to take in the frosted panorama of the Alps. With
these lush visuals Kröger and DoP Roland Stuprich are already
moving us between intensely realised worlds, shifting verisimilitudes with
their own idiosyncrasies of narrative and cinematic grammar. Here, the
nostalgia replicates the adventure thriller of the 1960s, with a
Hermannesque score and a man who knows too little caught within
dangerously escalating circumstances beyond his understanding...
Johannes is at the magic mountains for a physics conference, and the
situation starts to slip when the keynote speaker, who has been promised
to honour The Universal Theory's title and explain existence, mysteriously doesn't turn up. This enigma
is compounded by an ensuing series of deaths/resurrections and the elusive
presences of an attractive pianist (Olivia Ross) who knows aspects
of Johannes' previous life in a way that would seem to be impossible...
It's all very handsome to look at, but at such a slow pace, the obscure
and elliptic narrative of The Universal Theory does try the
patience, and, furthermore, aligning us with the jejune cluelessness of
Johannes makes for a removed experience. From the chintzy opening we know
our protagonist survives, that something is going to go wrong, and that it
involves a multiverse. The remaining running time is a slow explication of
the intro's summary.
The plot takes in cold war paranoia, time shifts and ersatz string theory,
and every so often inculcates a (deftly executed) suspense sequence. But
the problem with working within the hyperboles of pastiche is that stakes
are compromised, which is an inherent narrative problem with multiverse
premises, too. Perhaps in some cosy corner of the omniverse there is a
version of this review which prizes The Universal Theory's clear love for and reproduction of classic Hollywood, aligning the old
with du'jour concepts of parallel planes. Alas, in the 616 universe, this
reviewer remains as Johannes in the final moments of his arc, lamentful
and wondering what could have been.
The Universal Theory is in UK/ROI
cinemas from December 13th.
