****
When two students, physicist
Stephen Hawking and language student Jane, meet at a party in Cambridge in
1963, it appears to be love at first sight. Over the next twenty or so years,
the film follows the pair through Stephen’s diagnosis with MND, the start of
their family, and the difficulties they face as the years pass by.
I haven’t seen many of the other
actors rumoured to be in the running for Best Actor at the Oscars this year,
but if Eddie Redmayne doesn’t win, then they all must have been truly
exceptional. We watch as Redmayne twitches, drags his feet, fumbles with pens
and trips over flagstones in a truly amazing physical performance, his speech
subtly beginning to slur until his words at almost unfathomable. At the end,
seeing him slumped in his wheelchair, the resemblance to the real-life Hawking
is almost uncanny. But this film isn’t really about Stephen Hawking – it’s
actually about Jane, and what an exceptional woman she is, and Felicity Jones
plays her excellently, portraying her determination, heartbreak and resignation
subtly and beautifully. The pair are a strong and convincing set of leads and
definitely the main draw. The supporting cast are equally talented, but they
fade almost into insignificance alongside the two central performers.
Beautifully shot and accompanied by a truly lovely soundtrack, we are treated
to an inside look at the lives of these two people as they struggle with
Stephen’s illness and the trials of raising a family.
Doubtless this joke has been made
multiple times, but for a film called The
Theory of Everything there is actually remarkably little theory… about
anything. Einstein’s theories are reduced down to a boiled potato on the end of
a fork, and black holes are depicted as the froth of the top of a pint being
swirled around a table. Essentially, Theory
suffers from the same problem as The
Imitation Game: there is simply not enough science. Filmmakers seem to
think that their audience is really rather simple, but if Christopher Nolan’s
success is anything to go by, it is clear that the public do have the
capability to understand fantastical ideas without being patronised. Similarly,
I felt that some kind of indication of what year we were in would have been
helpful. At the start, we are informed that the year is 1963, but after that there
is no suggestion of where we are in time (almost ironic, I suppose). It is hard
to judge by the ages of the children how much time has passed since the last
scene, and it wasn’t until we catch a glimpse of a computer that I realised
what decade we were in – just some kind of yearly indicator would have been
useful. Also, and almost rather comically, whilst every other actor is treated
to grey wigs, shading under the eyes and numerous lines, David Thewlis (as
Hawking’s Cambridge professor Sciama) seems to avoid the make-up chair and the
passing of time, ending the film looking almost exactly the same as he did at
the beginning. So much effort had gone into aging Eddie Redmayne and the rest
of the cast that it was strange to see Thewlis so unchanged, especially as he
must have been quite old when A Brief
History of Time was published.
Redmayne’s outstanding, almost
unnerving, portrayal of Hawking helps to disguise the fact that this is a
rather plodding story, following his deterioration and familial strife as
opposed to looking into his research and discoveries. Felicity Jones is similarly
excellent as Jane, one of the most remarkable women I have ever seen or heard
of, and together the pair make the film into more than just your average drama.
Lavishly shot and accompanied by a beautiful score, it is undoubtedly a
handsome film, it just felt, perhaps, a little empty.
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