Sunday, November 30, 2014

THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING

The Theory of Everything
Grade: A

Starring: Eddie Redmayne, Felicity Jones, Charlie Cox, David Thewlis, Maxine Peake and Harry Lloyd
Premise: Shortly after falling in love with a beautiful young woman at Cambridge, cosmology student Stephen Hawking receives a devastating health diagnosis. But despite his increasing physical limitations, his wife refuses to give up helping him conduct his research.

Rated PG-13 for thematic material including intense emotional content and some unsettling/disturbing images

What does it mean to truly love somebody?

That question often came up in discussions of last year’s Spike Jonze film, Her, which was about the romance between a man and the lively female personality of his automated home management system. I thought of that movie—and that big question—while watching The Theory of Everything today, because it touches on similar ground. In Her, a man becomes happily and fully committed to a woman he cannot and will not ever see or touch; in Theory, we see a woman serving as lover, companion and provider to a man who is alive and lucid but can barely function without her assistance, and can give her almost nothing in return.

The man is, of course, physicist Stephen Hawking, whose early adulthood bout with “motor-neuron syndrome”—aka Lou Gehrig’s Disease—left him incapacitated, wheelchair-bound, and, eventually, unable to physically speak. The woman in the film is Jane Hawking, the physicist’s first wife, on whose memoir (“Travelling to Infinity: My Life With Stephen”) the movie is based. As adapted by Anthony McCarten and directed by James Marsh, and acted out by spirited young actors Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones, The Theory of Everything explores the depths of love, commitment and companionship in the unique dynamic of a relationship that, despite being between two living, breathing human beings, is unavoidably (some might say hopelessly) one-sided.

Plot
Cambridge, 1963: Stephen Hawking (Redmayne of Les Miserables fame) is just another young man. He may be a tad smarter than most, studying cosmology and seeking a Ph.D. thesis subject, but with a thin, freckled face, a gangly figure, and huge eyeglasses, he doesn’t stand out much, and certainly doesn’t impress the ladies. One night at a party, he happens to catch the eye of poetry enthusiast Jane Wilde (Jones), and once he gets a chance to talk to her, even though he’s got quite the vocabulary and high-minded topics of conversation, he’s more down to earth than she might have thought. He’s winning enough that even his snooty upper-class family won’t deter her. Lovesick though Stephen becomes, he still proves himself the smartest student in his class.

Then—disaster. After taking a terrible and unexpected fall on a flat walkway on campus, Stephen goes to the doctor and gets horrible news. His propensity to fumble away items or to suddenly go stiff in the legs wasn’t a random illness, a cramp, or clumsiness. He has motor-neuron syndrome, ALS, Lou Gehrig’s Disease—whatever you choose to call it—and he probably only has two years to live. Devastated by this diagnosis and realizing he has limited time left, Stephen decides to throw himself into his studies, to use his brilliant mind to accomplish and study as much as he can, particularly his Black Hole Theory. He’s even angry and desperate enough to turn his back on Jane.

But she won’t have it. Even in light of the diagnosis, Jane sticks by his side, confesses her love to him, marries him, and has his children. Stephen becomes a doctor and renowned published author and physicist. In a remarkable (but often unheeded and unrewarded) show of strength and selflessness and bravery, Jane feeds Stephen, helps him get dressed, helps him in and out of his wheelchair, and does what she can to make life as accessible as possible to him. Even once Stephen loses the ability to speak, and can only communicate by typing words into a machine that will read them aloud, she’s faithful and willing. But Jane does have her own needs, and when church choir director-turned family friend Jonathan Jones (Charlie Cox) confesses feelings for her, it’s hard not to reciprocate.

What Works?
The Theory of Everything doesn’t waste any time, having the main characters meet within five minutes and having warning signs of Stephen’s disease appear almost equally early. Especially since it’s almost impossible to walk in without knowing who the protagonist is and what sort of limitations he has, the movie has got you in its grip right from the get-go. You’re intrigued and cheered by the easy chemistry between Stephen and Jane (especially when they seem such a mismatch, with her way out of his league), you’re crushed by the horrible diagnosis you know is coming, and you’re engaged by scenes of their day-to-day life, which they make almost normal. And, of course, you end up thoroughly invested and moved at the hard-working, overlooked Jane’s work behind the scenes as her husband becomes a world-renowned professor.

The movie is very well-cast, with seasoned veterans like David Thewlis (Professor Lupin in the Harry Potter series) and Emily Watson (a two-time Oscar nominee) in supporting parts, and new faces Charlie Cox and Maxine Peake in key roles as the Hawkings’ respective love interests—the former the warm, supportive male presence Jane craves and the latter a spunky individual who livens up Stephen’s long, slow days of trying to communicate. I won’t call this group ‘window dressing’, as they’re far too effective for that, but it’d be hard to blame anyone who walks away only remembering the leads.

Redmayne, 32, is best known for his role as the lovelorn patriot Marius in 2012’s Les Mis, and he’s done eye-catching work in My Week With Marilyn and Hick, but what he does here is astonishing. His complete physical commitment to the role of the barely-mobile protagonist is riveting, so far beyond acting you barely remembering you’re watching an actor play Hawking, and not the physicist himself. Other thoroughly-convincing tour-de-force portrayals of physically-limited individuals came to mind, such as Daniel Day-Lewis in My Left Foot and Colin Firth in The King’s Speech. Both those guys won Best Actor Oscars, by the way, and Redmayne will likely be in the conversation for his portrait, which isn’t always very dignified but is certainly true to the real figure.

Good as Redmayne is, the real star is the 31-year-old Felicity Jones, whom audiences might recognize for her small role in last summer’s Amazing Spider-Man 2 or her starring role in the 2011 drama Like Crazy (most remembered now as one of Jennifer Lawrence’s first prominent films). Jones’s performance is superb, not just for the emotional theatrics she sometimes must bring to the role, but what the role suggests—a woman who loved a man enough to put her own needs forever on the back burner, to feed him, change him, clean him, push his wheelchair, raise his children, defer to his public genius, and support him fully. There are moments when the strain of carrying this unenviable burden shows (her first attempt to try to get Stephen to communicate after he loses the ability to speak altogether is heartbreaking); the emotion and agony increases dramatically when you remember the real Jane Hawking did this for twenty-five years of marriage (they divorced in 1995). It’s a moving, wonderful performance, and likely also puts Jones in line for an Oscar nomination (for Best Actress, and it would be well-deserved).

What Doesn’t Work?
At just over two hours, The Theory of Everything isn’t agonizingly-long, and, thankfully for a fact-based-film, it doesn’t feel much like a history lesson or a documentary, either. It doesn’t contain a great entertainment factor, so it’s not exactly a film one would watch over and over, but that’s a small fault. This movie is very well done.

Content
Audience members who might wonder how on earth Jane and Stephen Hawking had three kids, given his condition, will be left wondering, as The Theory of Everything is impressively clean. I can’t recall any specific profanities (though I’m sure there are a couple), there’s no violence, and there’s no sensual content beyond a few kisses. But, of course, the details of Stephen’s symptoms and his struggle can be difficult to watch and endure—a good portion of the film, while enlightening, is unavoidably depressing. Younger viewers will probably have many questions.

Bottom Line
Based on the real-life lengthy marriage between Jane and Stephen Hawking, The Theory of Everything can be impressively-enlightening and desperately-sad, but above all it is truly moving. The principle figures are brought to vivid life in fine performances by Felicity Jones and Eddie Redmayne, and the stirring dynamic is one that can and should be pondered and marveled at by viewers for a long time. What does it mean to really love somebody? How far would you go to show someone you love them? Is it wrong to crave physical affection when you’re married, but your spouse is physically unable to provide that physical affection? And how would you react if you or someone you loved was given such a harsh diagnosis? This is a profound and affecting movie.

The Theory of Everything (2014)
Directed by James Marsh
Screenplay by Anthony McCarten
Based on the book “Travelling to Infinity: My Life With Stephen” by Jane Wilde Hawking
Rated PG-13
Length: 123 minutes

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