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Eddie Redmayne is not a man one would immediately cast to play the renowned physicist Stephen Hawking. The actor, and occasional Burberry model, has starred in Les Miserables (2012) and My Week with Marilyn (2011) in the last few years. Both parts were well acted, but not particularly gritty. The Theory of Everything is certainly no controversial biopic, but Redmayne towers above the sentimentality of the script.
Hawking is known to most of us as the brilliant scientist in a wheelchair who communicates through a speech-generating computer; it’s something of a shock to see the freckly young man he was in 1960s Cambridge. Redmayne seems most at home in this body — glasses askew, listening to Wagner and failing to choose a PhD subject. He’s also busy throwing glances at language student Jane (a stellar Felicity Jones, in what is very much a two-hander), who positively sparkles with cool British charisma. The two quickly become romantically involved and some of the best scenes in the film are when the audience sees them falling madly in love. The rebellious genius and the beautiful romantic seems like a fairytale — at least until Hawking is diagnosed with an incurable Motor Neurone Disease at the age of twenty one. Jane promises to stick around despite the hardships ahead, and for Stephen, time becomes his topic of study, presumably because he is so short on it.
While this may appear a touch heavy-handed, The Theory of Everything manages to transcend any awful sentimentality. The script balances schmaltz with wry humour; Redmayne’s performance bringing much of this. A sense of humour goes a long way inside a failing body, it seems, and Hawking’s one liners are about as funny as The Theory of Everything gets. There’s strength to the film, however, underneath the kisses and giggles. It admirably sets alongside and juxtaposes the single-minded determination of Hawking with the frustrations of his wife at being left behind, academically and, eventually, romantically. It’s more complex a drama than its trailer implies: less romantic and more concerned in facing the realities of living with a muscle-wasting disease. A particularly gut-wrenching scene shows Hawking trying, and failing, to get up a set of stairs (why do they have stairs? Come on, Cambridge grads) to reach his infant son.
Were Hawking dead and buried, The Theory of Everything would be shockingly bleak. However, his continuing work as a physicist means that it’s a portrait of human determination against all the odds. Marsh’s film is gorgeously shot in blues and browns, and the nods to Hawking’s work are subtle and digestible. Oscar bait? Definitely. Worth a “Best Picture” nomination? You betcha.
