The Theory of Everything

The Theory of Everything is the story of Stephen Hawking, a figure that even the most scientifically block headed will be well aware of.  Directed by James Marsh and based off the memoir of Hawking’s first wife, Jane Wilde Hawking, it stars Eddie Redmayne as the scientist who goes from a young and hopeful Cambridge PHD student, to a disabled, but world-renowned, scientist.  Hawking’s story is fascinating and even if this film occasionally views like a hagiography, it still has a lot in it to recommend.

Strangely, the movie I want to compare it to is Interstellar.  Both films are full of incredibly complicated ideas (in fact Kip Thorne, who was Nolan’s main advisor in Interstellar, is name checked in The Theory of Everything, due to a bet he had with Hawking, which saw the loser buy the winner a subscription to Penthouse) and yet at their heart have very little to do with those ideas. They are instead love stories.  In Interstellar, it is between Matthew McConaughey’s Cooper and his daughter Murph, in The Theory of Everything, it is between Hawking and his wife.  This is the story of how despite the Motor Neuron’s Disease that saw him reduced to a wheelchair and eventually lose even his ability to speak, these two people managed to raise a family and battle against all the odds.  Of course, some of you will know how that story ends, but it is still a story that is well worth watching.

Despite this, your enjoyment of the film will probably depend on how you deal with the fact that, as I mentioned, this film is very kind to Hawking.  It is not a warts and all story, but one that seeks to show the genius of the man.  I obviously don’t know him personally, but a quick read around the internet will suggest that he has not always been this perfect person.  However, if you can get past this, there is plenty to appreciate here.  Redmayne is fantastic, he twists and contort’s his body in a way that see’s him eventually shriveled down and seemingly half his own size.  He ends up looking so incredibly like the man, that occasionally you need to remind yourself that it is not actually him.  He also gets across the twinkle and the cheekiness that is often seen in Professor Hawking, even at the point where he is at his lowest, he has a glint in his eye that suggests the disease couldn’t defeat him.

His performance isn’t the only great one however, Felicity Jones gets across both the strength and the weakness of Jane Hawking.  She brilliantly portrays a women who takes the world on her shoulders and obviously struggles with it, as she attempts to deal with the life she has chosen.  She takes what could have been a very unforgiving role and keeps it likable, despite the fact she often has to work as essentially the voice of reason.  It is also worth saying that her and Redmayne’s onscreen chemistry is delightful.  Even when Redmayne is at his most contorted and immobile, the two bounce off each other wonderfully, truly getting across the idea of a couple who have been through hell together and come out the other end.

Ultimately, The Theory of Everything doesn’t take enough risks to be a truly great film.  It doesn’t incorporate the warts in Hawking’s story and even when it does show a glimpse of them, it is only brief.  However, Redmayne’s performance makes this worth watching.  It is genuinely brilliant and if it doesn’t win an Oscar I will be shocked.  It ticks every box that the Academy go for and while I haven’t seen many of the films in competition with it, I can’t see it being beaten.  Sadly, the film is likely to be left behind in Redmayne’s impressive wake.