The discovery of a severed human ear found in a field leads a young man on an investigation related to a beautiful, mysterious nightclub singer and a group of psychopathic criminals who have kidnapped her child.
A hugely talented but socially isolated computer operator is tasked by Management to prove the Zero Theorem: that the universe ends as nothing, rendering life meaningless. But meaning is what he already craves.
Sam Lowry is a harried technocrat in a futuristic society that is needlessly convoluted and inefficient. He dreams of a life where he can fly away from technology and overpowering bureaucracy, and spend eternity with the woman of his dreams. While trying to rectify the wrongful arrest of one Harry Buttle, Lowry meets the woman he is always chasing in his dreams, Jill Layton. Meanwhile, the bureaucracy has fingered him responsible for a rash of terrorist bombings, and both Sam and Jill's lives are put in danger. Written by
Philip Brubaker <firstname.lastname@example.org>
Gilliam credits Tom Stoppard with the idea of having a dead beetle fall into the computer and cause the typographical mistake that leads to a man's death and the entire sequence of events in the film. See more »
When Sam Lowery first gets into Jill's cab, he says that he is number is D Zed stroke 105 (DZ/105) when in actuality his number is D Zed Stroke 015 (DZ/015) See more »
[TV commercial jingle]
Central Services: We do the work, you do the pleasure.
TV commercial pitchman:
Hi, there. I want to talk to you about ducts.
See more »
The closing shot of Lowry incarcerated humming to himself provides the backdrop for the end credits. See more »
Brazil is a mad, paperwork obsessed, duct filled, shopping crazy world. In fact, Brazil is today, minus the ducts. Everyone is obsessed with shopping and in order to get anything done within the world of government, there is paperwork to be filled out, and filled out and on and on. Terry Gilliam's Orwellian nightmare is like a merging of Metropolis and his own mad drawings and cut outs the linked the sketches in Monty Python's Flying Circus. Bureaucrats abound in Gilliam's vision, and they run the place. Anyone with free will and imagination is thought to be dangerous. Visually, the film is a marvel of art direction and miniatures flawlessly edited together. So, be like Harry Tuttle. Go out, become a freelance guerilla plumber and try not to get consumed by paperwork. One last item. If you can, get the Criterion version of Brazil. It's the film that Terry Gilliam intended you to see.
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