Admittedly, I don't think I have ever thought about who Stephen Hawking was before he became a world-renowned scientist. But after watching an extremely well-made trailer more times than I’d like to admit, I decided I had to see James Marsh’s recently released Stephen Hawking biopic The Theory of Everything. (I mean if two minutes of British accents and delicate tinkering music can’t convince you to see the movie, I’m not sure what can.)
Contrary to what most people expected, myself included, the film is not solely a tale of one man’s triumph over adversity — an emotional homage to Hawking’s ability to defy his physical limitations and find intellectual success. Actually, love it or hate it, the storyline only mentions Hawking’s scientific achievements in passing, instead focusing on its impact on the film’s bigger picture, Hawking’s relationship with Jane Wilde.
The film, based on ex-wife Jane Hawking’s memoir, Travelling to Infinity: My Life with Stephen, is, above all else, a love story. The Theory of Everything chronicles the development of a budding romance between the two Cambridge students and the toll Hawking’s Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS) takes on both Jane and their relationship. Critics are quick to complain that, by playing up the romance, The Theory of Everything “Hollywood-izes” Stephen Hawking and downplays the value of his scientific work in favor of creating a blockbuster at the box office.
Sure, I may be a bit biased. I’m not a particularly math- or science-oriented person, and I’m a sucker for a good love story, but still, isn’t a biopic supposed to be about life? And what better captures the depth of human life than love? By weaving together scientific discovery, a gritty depiction of the challenges of living with ALS and a not quite picture-perfect love story, the film revealed to me a newfound level of humanity to Hawking's life.
However, the powerful emotional impact of the film (personally, I cried for most of the movie) relies on more than its compelling story — it primarily depends on the talent of Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones, who play Stephen and Jane Hawking, respectively.
Having first been introduced to Redmayne in his role as the heartthrob Marius in Tom Hooper’s 2012 remake of Les Misérables, I was intrigued to see how Redmayne would handle the pressures and difficulties of playing Stephen Hawking and representing ALS. He would need more than his pretty face to get him through. Redmayne undergoes a thorough transformation in order to accurately portray Hawking. As Hawking’s disease progressed, his muscle control gradually deteriorated. Redmayne’s remarkable ability to manipulate his body across these various stages of disease shows he's more than just good looks.
While it would be easy to get lost in the physical demands of the role, Redmayne captures Stephen Hawking’s intelligent and surprisingly mischievous personality as well. Depite the physical limitations, Redmayne's nuanced performance made me laugh in spite of the tears in my eyes. Similarly, contrasting her doe-eyed, innocent appearance, Jones brings both a subtle grace and a quiet strength to her portrayal of Jane. It is really effective in inciting an empathetic response (aka more tears).
In a film about love in extraordinary circumstances, I ultimately fell in love with Redmayne and Jones' extraordinary performance together as the Hawkings. The emotional connection I felt with Stephen and Jane Hawking, sharing in their triumphs and pain, was only intensified by Jóhann Jóhannsson’s score. The four simple notes from which the rest of the score evolves reflect and amplify the simple complexity of Stephen and Jane’s relationship: an epitome of the intrinsic intricacies of life. (Bonus: the film’s soundtrack makes fantastic motivational study music.)
Although there may not be an in-depth analysis of mathematical equations and black holes, the characters and the plot remain equally complex, examining the dynamics of a marriage and what it means to be human, to live and to love, under the umbrella of an unexpected obstacle. I’m sure most students here at Nerdwestern would be able to tell you at least one fact about Stephen Hawking’s academic achievements, but almost none would be able to tell you anything about him as a person. Thankfully, The Theory of Everything accurately captures not just the scientist but also the man.