Abel Ferrara’s Cryptic COVID-Era Film Zeros and Ones Is Hypnotic and Unhurried
Prolific cult filmmaker Abel Ferrara’s penchant for artistic abstraction lives on in Zeros and Ones, the director’s meandering effort in pandemic cinema. Ferrara shot on the freshly vacant streets of Rome—the city he’s lived in since the early 2000s—during lockdown, the city itself being the only formidable presence in the film aside from leading man Ethan Hawke. In fact, Hawke portrays three distinct roles in the film: That of a grizzled military man; a radical political prisoner; and the actor Ethan Hawke himself. Though Hawke’s multifaceted performance is masterful, an overall sluggish pace and half-baked intellectual rumination obscure any genuine insights being made by Ferrara on the current state of the world.
Though ostensibly an action film about preventing a bomb threat in a major city, very little action actually propels the plot of Zeros and Ones. Instead, Ferrara favors languid shots featuring grungy Roman streets and sparse dialogue, a decision that often leaves the viewer unsure of what is actually happening. The discernable narrative follows JJ (Hawke), a soldier who’s been tasked with preventing an imminent terrorist threat to the Vatican. While he’s in Rome, though, he is also hell-bent on finding his anarchist brother (also Hawke), a political prisoner who may or may not already be dead. While there’s an obvious race against time and plenty of adversaries trying to thwart JJ’s mission, there is also an overwhelming sense of listlessness pervading the film. This juxtaposition makes for an oddly alluring concoction, conveying a sense of palpable dreamlike anxiety. Though the film is precise and evocative when it comes to the emotions encountered while living through a pandemic—profound loneliness, stark reflection and dull panic—Zeros and Ones falters in its attempt to communicate anything more substantial than mere sentiment.
Ferrara’s film is enlivened by Hawke’s presence, whether through pensive monologues, fervent line deliveries or personal messages as the film’s starring actor. Unconventionally, the audience is first introduced to Hawke before the opening credits even begin to roll. The actor immediately appears as himself on-screen—footage clearly recorded on a device in the comfort of his own home—and addresses the audience. He essentially promotes the film, singing the praises of Ferrara and his script. “I’m excited for the world to see Abel’s response to this wild year we’ve been living through,” Hawke declares in his introduction. Only then does the actual movie begin, Hawke’s acting credit fading into and out of the black background. When occupying the role of flatly philosophical JJ, he roams the ominously dark streets of Rome, pondering internally on the fate of Jesus while simultaneously embarking on his quest to save the Vatican. (“Jesus was just another soldier. A war casualty. But on whose side?”) Yet there are also moments of outward vigor, particularly when Hawke delivers hilarious rebuttals when confronted or captured by enemy forces. (“Don’t you even know that your strippers are Marxist?”)