The
world
famous
physicist
and
cosmologist
Stephen
Hawking
needs
no
introduction.
Hawking
fundamentally
changed
our
understanding
of
black
holes,
quantum
mechanics,
and
relativity,
all
the
while
popularising
science
with
his
best-selling
book,
"A
Brief
History
of
Time".
Apart
from
his
academic
brilliance,
what
makes
Hawking
a
subject
for
an
inspiring
biopic
is
his
unfathomable
spirit
which
is
imprisoned
in
his
dysfunctional
body.
"The
Theory
of
Everything" is
essentially
a
love
story,
adapted
from
the
memoir
of
Hawking's
first
wife,
Jane
Wilde.
The
narration
in
a
linear
format
is
simplistic
and
rolls
on
from
the
campus
of
Cambridge
in
1963,
where
Stephen,
a
floppy-haired
and
thickly
bespectacled
student
falls
in
love
with
the
petite
Jane.
The
film,
a
life-affirming
tear-jerker,
focuses
on
their
relationship.
He
is
an
agnostic,
she
a
Catholic
and
how
their
blossoming
love
affair
was
affected
by
Amyotrophic
Lateral
Sclerosis
(ALS),
a
progressive
neurodegenerative
disease.
It
is
touching
to
hear
her
say,
"He
loves
me
and
I
love
him
and
we
are
going
to
fight
this
illness
together,
all
of
us."
Despite
his
illness,
falling,
stumbling
and
crawling
Hawking
fathers
three
children
and
reveals
that
beyond
the
extraordinary
circumstances,
he
is
"a
man" nevertheless.
The
scene
elicits
a
chuckle
but
at
the
same
times
reveals
the
genius'
joie-de-vivre
attitude.
Anthony
McCarten's
script
is
well-etched
with
the
right
amount
of
dramatics
and
emotional
display.
It
does
not
get
messy
or
melodramatic
at
any
given
stage.
The
scenes
are
treated
in
a
distinct
antiseptic
nature
and
the
plot
races
at
times
trying
to
hit
every
major
event
in
Hawking's
life.
What
keeps
you
glued
to
your
seat
is
the
power-packed
performances
by
the
cast.
Watching
Eddie
Redmayne
as
Stephen
Hawking
is
like
seeing
the
man
himself
both
mentally
and
physically.
His
posture,
gait
and
slurred
speech
were
not
acting,
but
personification
of
the
character.
His
performance
is
probably
one
of
the
best
portrayed
in
recent
times
and
worthy
of
several
awards.
Felicity
Jones,
who
compliments
Eddie
as
his
wife
Jane,
who
declined
to
take
the
easy
option
out
of
the
relationship,
delivers
an
equally
robust
performance.
Her
transition
from
a
cheerful
youngster
to
a
responsible
wife
to
a
distressed
mother
and
a
frustrated
lover
is
palpable.
You
feel
for
her.
There
is
Charlie
Cox
as
Jonathan,
a
lonely
widower
and
a
choir
master
at
the
local
parish,
who
is
ever
willing
to
offer
a
helping
hand
to
the
beleaguered
family.
He
delivers
a
sensitive,
but
fairly
predictable
performance,
that's
probably
because
of
the
stereotyped
nature
of
the
character
he
portrays.
With
sharp
eye
for
detailing,
director
James
Marsh
delivers
a
brilliantly
scripted
film
that
delves
on
the
romance
angle
and
not
glorification
of
the
genius.
The
director
has
taken
pains
in
the
detailing
and
the
finer
nuances
of
the
histrionics.
It
is
amazing
to
notice
how
he
judiciously
introduces
hints
of
the
illness
from
the
very
first
scene
so
that
the
progression
into
a
full-blown
disability
is
seamless
and
absolutely
convincing.
Except
for
minor
issues;
like
grainy
frames
in
the
visuals
of
the
family
picnic
scene
and
parallel
editing
when
Stephen
and
Jane
are
cuddling
their
first
born,
which
seems
like
the
couple
are
having
twins,
the
film
otherwise
is
a
masterpiece.