Pier Paolo Pasolini’s Teorema is an intricately constructed philosophical rumination about the consequences of encountering the uncomfortable truths behind the facades we wear in public. The threadbare plot is relatively simple – a young man is staying with a wealthy, bourgeois family and has a sexual encounter with each of them. When he leaves, the family is left to explore what they’ve learned about themselves. The bifurcated plot makes the film into a cinematic diptych, with the second half of the film serving as a mirror to the first in much the same way that the visitor in the film becomes a mirror for each member of the family. The narrative itself has a kind of fable-like quality, suggesting in the end that deep encounters with the holy or the divine can destroy our perceptions of ourselves – especially if we’ve been insulated by privilege and wealth and power. The precise geometric staging of certain creates an eeriness and tension as Pasolini juxtaposes this rigid formality with a loose, handheld camera to suggest the family’s unmooring from their own sense of self. Like many of Pasolini’s best films, Teorema is a film that rewards careful thought and contemplation. The ideas within are deeply challenging to our notions of faith, class, and even sexual identity. Even if you ultimately reject his premise, Pasolini has given us something here that worth wrestling with.
