The Universal Theory

Thanks to Oppenheimer, viewers are getting used to the idea of physicists as movie heroes. Indeed, as the grandson of a Marine slated for the Japanese mainland amphibious landing, I’m probably alive today thanks to his Manhattan Project. Unfortunately, Johannes Leneirt probably lacks Oppenheimer’s brilliance and virtues. Yet, through dumb luck, he might stumble onto the secret of time-travel, the multiverse, and everything in Timm Kroger’s The Universal Theory, which is now playing in New York.

Leinert’s thesis advisor, Dr. Strathan, thinks little of him, but reluctantly drags him along to a post-war conference in the Swiss Alps. Frankly, for Strathan and his not-so-friendly rival, Prof. Blumberg, WWII maybe still lingers. Indeed, as proteges of Heisenberg, their activities under the National Socialists remain intentionally vague.

Evidently, immigration troubles delay the arrival of the keynote speaker from Iran, so Leinert has plenty of time to kill as they wait. He would like to spend it with Karin Honig, the hotel’s resident jazz vocalist-pianist. Weirdly, when he next approaches her after their memorable first meeting, she acts like a total stranger. Nevertheless, she eventually agrees to a series of assignations, until she suddenly disappears. As Leinert searches for Honig, he hears strange rumors regarding the effects of plutonium on the mountain overshadowing the resort.

Or something like that. Stylistically, Universal Theory is definitely Guy Maddinesque, but if anything, Kroger’s takes an even more abstract approach to narrative. Admittedly, Kroger and co-screenwriter Roderick Warich try to do something very cool and provocative, but it is not sufficiently grounded to connect beyond an intellectual level. The clever wrap-around segments (featuring an older, embittered Leinert appearing on a 1970s talk show, promoting his tell-all memoir, which his publisher insisted on selling as science fiction) offer some ironic humor, but the guts of it all are just too vague, too coyly open-ended, and too resistant to interpretation. Ultimately, the pieces do not quite fit together and the equation never balances.

Frankly, Olivier Asselin’s Le Cyclotron and Gyorgy Palfi’s His Master’s Voice share similar themes and aesthetics, but those under-appreciated films were much better executed. Universal Theory looks amazing, but there is less substance than Kroger’s portentous style suggests. As they might say in the Alps, it is all lederhosen and no Alpine ibex. In terms of storytelling, it is more closely akin to Tav Falco’s Urania Descending or F.J. Ossang’s 9 Fingers, which proudly proclaimed their avant-garde nature. If none of these films mean anything to you, you’re hardly alone, but take it as sign Universal Theory maybe won’t be your cup of tea.

Arguably, cinematographer Roland Stuprich is the star of the film. Still, Jan Bulow psychologically craters quite spectacularly as Leinert. Hanns Zischler and Gottfried Breitfuss are both colorfully crusty as Dr. Stathen and Prof. Blumberg. They all look their parts, which is all they really need to do in a film like this.

It is all just too much and simultaneously not nearly enough. Kroger’s ample style just never quit satisfies. Not recommended, The Universal Theory is currently playing in New York at the Quad.