You have my attention, Eddie Redmayne. You also have my attention, Felicity Jones. You know who doesn’t have my attention? Science. This is a shame seeing as The Theory of Everything is a Stephen Hawking biopic. Eddie Redmayne is so Stephen Hawking in this film, I imagine him interrupting his Oscar acceptance to talk about black holes. Not bad for a kid I previously identified as “the one in Les Miz with freckles.”
And just as Tom Cruise has to be the guy who acts while Dustin Hoffman is Rain Man, Felicity Jones gets to play Stephen’s girlfriend, wife and corporeal presence. Telling you right now, I’d grow fairly sick of the focus during film shooting; I can only imagine what the real Jane Hawking had to endure. Daddy Hawking (Simon McBurney) warns the pre-fiancée Jane that Stephen’s ALS isn’t going to be a picnic. Ha! The joke’s on you! Marriage is always a gamble. Nobody can guarantee the evolution of self, spouse or relationship. The difference between marrying Stephen Hawking and some other bloke is simply that with Stephen you know some of the hurdles in front of you. [I am still happily married, FWIW.]
Luckily for Americans, Theory namedrops Lou Gehrig to remind us of what a bitch Motor Neuron Syndrome is gonna be (ALS is a form of Motor Neuron Syndrome) before we get too involved. We can tell there’s something wrong with Stephen long before a diagnosis – his uneven smile, awkward gait and inability to wear glasses correctly all speak to a level of nerd so profound, American bullies everywhere salivate at the previews like Pavlovian pit bulls. Does he not notice or is something really wrong? Impossible to say – something, clearly, was wrong, but that doesn’t detract from the idea that his supernerdery led him down socially awkward paths. Don’t knock it if you can attract Felicity Jones, which is a classic love at first sight. Explain that, science.
The Theory of Everything is essentially the coincidental struggles of Stephen v. science, Steven v. Jane (Jones) and Stephen v. Stephen’s body. Stephen’s body gets the lion’s share of the attention. What distinctly struck me is how this man never seems to get a pass. Watch him hobble into a campus tribunal – he can barely walk, he’s been given two years to live max and st
ill he stands up to be judged. In retrospect, we know he’s among the brilliant minds ever created and yet he has to be judged and is even found partially wanting before his panel can declare him a doctor. It’s like watching a P.E. coach making 17-year-old Michael Jordan try out for a spot on a varsity b-ball team. Everybody needs somebody’s approval.
This is the kind of film that pisses me off at award time because while it certainly was a respectable piece of work, it wasn’t anywhere near provocative nor moving enough to be declared a winner. Think Shine. Think Walk the Line. Great films are more than great performances. This is the kind of film you gear up for based on word-of-mouth and then say, “Huh. This, um, just isn’t all that.” Bottom line: Yes, marrying a man with ALS will suck ass no matter how brilliant he is. The Theory of Everything is a message to all the housewives out there that your consistent marriage sacrifices were not in vain … well, so long as you married Stephen Hawking, that is. And even then.
♪I am, I am, I am Superman and can know everything
I am, I am, I am Superman and I can’t do anything♫
Rated PG-13, 123 Minutes
D: James Marsh
W: Anthony McCarten
Genre: The British Invasion Innovation
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: Stephen Hawking
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Creationists
♪ Parody inspired by “Superman”
