Showing posts with label Emily Watson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Watson. Show all posts

Friday, December 19, 2014

The Theory of Everything (2014) – Review

Review: The Theory of Everything is an enchanting and inspiring love story and character drama.

The film is about theoretical physicist Professor Stephen Hawking and his wife Jane Wilde. The couple met at Cambridge, shortly before Hawking was diagnosed with motor neuro disease. They decided to get married, despite the uphill battle their relationship faced, with Hawking getting worse and losing more of his normal bodily function. They each achieved PhDs in their fields, but the film focuses more on Hawking’s work and Wilde’s struggle to keep herself together while having to dedicate herself to taking care of Hawking.

The Theory of Everything works on two narrative levels. On one hand, it is a very touching love story about two people who take the bad with the good to make a life together – and eventually part as friends. On the other hand, it is a character drama focusing on how each other them cope with the circumstances they face. For Hawking, he must face a life filled with moments of loss, as little by little, he will lose parts of himself (the ability to walk, speak and so on). For Wilde, she must face a life in which she becomes less of a wife and more of a caretaker, sacrificing in many ways her own life for his.

Director James Marsh does a good job with both of these narrative devices, structuring the film to take advantage of each. As a romantic drama, Marsh plays with the big moments in their relationship, focusing on their courtship. When Hawking was diagnosed (in the mid-1960s), he was given two years to live. Wilde seems to have been a big reason for him to not give up and keep going, even encouraging him to pursue his work and a full life. She is his strength. Marsh does a great job conveying that while their relationship is not perfect (but really, whose is) it is their deep friendship, beyond romantic love, that kept them together, despite the great obstacles they faced. Their love and friendship saved Hawking (or so the film might suggest).

On a character level, Marsh devotes a lot to developing these two characters, allowing the audience to see things from their perspectives, to feel what they feel. Hawking just wants to be normal (something that is very relatable), while Wilde gets worn down and just needs a life of her own. As Hawking’s condition worsens, raising the family and taking care of him fall solely on her. Plus, she does not have help of any kind for many years (professional or otherwise). Marrying Hawking she knew she is making a sacrifice and she goes into fully aware of what she is taking on, but time can and will wear down any resolve.

What I like about the film is that Marsh does not focus only on Hawking and his accomplishments, persevering in spite all the challenges he faced (and faces). It would have been easy for the film to take this narrative perspective. Hawking is, after all, the known entity. Instead, Marsh devotes just as much time to Wilde. Her emotional struggles and triumphs are given just as much dramatic weight. One might say watching this film that Hawking achieved what he has because Wilde was there to support him. Without her, he might not have done the things he has. It is a narrative theme that is not often explored in cinema – the importance of those behind the more famous people who achieve great things, especially when it comes to homemakers.

The Theory of Everything is a beautiful film because the audience is right there with the characters, feeling what they feeling, wanting what they want, and rooting for their success. Marsh structures the film to play to its dramatic strengths, which is emotionally manipulative even boarding on melodramatic at times, but in service of the narrative. The film is inspiring and charming.


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: James Marsh is a very good director of documentaries, most notably Man on Wire (which is brilliant) and Project Nim. With his fictional feature films, he has not had as much success. The best of which prior to The Theory of Everything is probably his directed chapter of the Red Riding Trilogy (he directed Red Riding: In the Year of Our Lord 1980). With The Theory of Everything, he combines his talent for telling true-life stories and garnering strong performances. It is his best feature film to date.

Aesthetically, The Theory of Everything has a lot going on. Composer Johann Johannsson’s score is wonderful. It plays beautifully with the love story elements as well as the inspiring moments of the narrative. It is uplifting. Benoit Delhomme’s cinematography is excellent as well. Here, Delhomme and Marsh maneuver the look of the film to fit the emotions at play in the moment. Sometimes the film is overblown with light, everything appearing radiant, and in other moments the lighting is rather dreary and dark – echoing the highs and lows of Hawking and Wilde’s relationship and personal struggles. John Paul Kelly’s production design grounds the film in a realistic feeling world, in some ways counter balancing the extremes of the photography. Kelly does a great job signaling the passage of time in the changing of décor, costumes and hairstyles.

The cast in the film is superb. Adam Godley, Christian McKay, Simon McBurney, and Emily Watson are all very good in small supporting roles. David Thewlis is also very good in the smaller supporting role, playing Dennis Sciama. Thewlis often at his very best in a mentor-like role (see Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and to some extent Kingdom of Heaven – or conversely, as a complete bastard in Naked). Charlie Cox plays family friend to the Hawkings, Jonathan Jones. Cox uses his naturally friendly face to portray the man as being incredibly nice and understanding, and in many ways just what they needed. It is one of Cox’s best performances. Felicity Jones is fantastic as Jane Wilde. She has a lot of emotion to get through in the film, exhibiting the struggles that Jane faced and her strength. Jane (as a character) is in the difficult position of having to eventually leave Hawking but still remain likable (which is true to life, but could be somewhat hard to get across to an audience). Jones is excellent, as she woos the audience, expresses her character’s pain and needs, but also her warmth and fight. Jones is completely likable, throughout. Eddie Redmayne is incredible as Stephen Hawking, giving an extraordinarily physical performance (unmatched by anything else I have seen this year so far). Redmayne perfectly captures Hawking’s mischievous wit, compassion, ambition, and his physical tendencies. It is remarkable piece of acting.


Summary & score: The Theory of Everything could have been overly sappy, far too rigid a biopic or unfair to the people it portrays. In most cases, it would have been these things in lesser hands. Yet, as it is, the film presents full characters and even more important fully realized and powerful emotions, portrayed through excellent performances. 8/10

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Cemetery Junction (2010) - Review


Cemetery Junction is a funny, sweet coming-of-age story dipped with love in nostalgia. It is clear that this film is a passion project for co-directors Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant. Their characters are treated with such compassion, especially the young and working-class characters. And the nostalgic aspect of the film makes the world of 1973 Reading, UK, out to be one were the working-class were noble, the young adults are caught in the uneasiness of change and the upper-class are villains (to some extent, not evil, but not noble). The working-class characters are good in that they care about their families in their hearts and work hard; but, given the times and the setting, they are also portrayed as ignorant and the film is filled with off-color humor by today’s standards. The wealthy are just as ignorant and intolerant, but there is maliciousness to it. While, in the world of the film it seems as if there are no bad or truly malevolent working-class characters, there are bad wealthy characters. Gervais and Merchant do not actively preach class warfare with the film, or even elude to it but it is evident that looking back longingly at the time period there is a sense that the workingman is a good man doing noble factory work (or whatever the work may be) while the wealthy man is less than noble, becoming wealthy off others’ struggles and downfalls. The principal wealthy character, Mr. Kendrick, is portrayed as not caring even in the slightest for less fortunate people, even despising them on some level. The young adult characters, which represent the film’s main characters, are caught in the middle, not just of the class system – whether to buy into the wealthy-man’s system of good job, work hard, buy a home, get married, have kids, and so on, or to accept their more natural place (specific to each individual character) of working in a factory (or something similar) – they are also caught in a cultural revolution, which the film captures quite well. There is a strong motif of freedom throughout the film – freedom from the social norms, i.e. factory worker, insurance salesman, wife, mother, excreta. The film champions for its young characters an escape from the norm and getting out there and seeing the world and what else there is for them. But, it is not completely literal in all cases to physically leaving, though physically leaving Reading is part of it. The escape also has to do with growing up and seeing people in a different light – sort like letting their soul escape the self imposed torture, allowing it to be free from the weight holding it and the character back. The coming-of-age story is all about these young adults finding their place in the world or at least growing up to see what is out there and what choices they really have, not being content to merely exist in the structure predetermined for them. And while the world Gervais and Merchant create for their story seems more like a fond memory than the real world, it does serve as a wonderful backdrop, almost utopian in the way it is photographed, for their parable. The film is very funny and features some of the awkward humor that Gervais and Merchant are famous for, but it is not really a straight comedy in terms of being joke driven. The jokes are more a product of the characters and story, rather than the opposite. Thus, viewers going into it thinking along the lines of watching a hilarious Ricky Gervais film (like his TV shows Extras and The Office, even though those are plump with tragic drama) will be taken aback, as this is not that type of film at all. The nature of the world of the film also lends itself to being fairly cliché. However, while it is sentimental and a little cornball, the world works perfectly for the story that Gervais and Merchant want to tell about the characters they obviously love. Cemetery Junction is built on sort of a mushy nostalgic platform, but once in the world, with the characters, it plays out as a tightly structured and neatly comedic fable.


Technical achievements: Gervais and Merchant show their maturity as writer-directors, as the film is very well structured, tightly scripted and very well shot. Their collaboration with very good cinematographer Remi Adefarasin (who shot Band of Brothers, half of The Pacific, Match Point, for example) allowed them to create their ideal nostalgic Reading. The shooting style and color aspect of the film is very warm and loving, and this is also thanks to the fine work by production designer Anna Higginson (who also did Extras). It is almost the complete opposite of another recent film taking place in early 1970s England, Red Reding: In the Year of Our Lord 1974, in which it is extensively gloomy, ugly and dark. The music of the time period and local is very much a part of the story and tone of the piece. The found music works incredibly well with the story and composer Tim Atack (who also appears in the film as part of the party band) compliments with his score. The film’s success hinges on the viewer’s ability to relate to its main characters and their ability to encapsulate the time period and social change infused confusion within the characters. Gervais and Merchant were able to find four fantastically well suited young actors for the characters, and the film is all the better for it. British TV actors Tom Hughes, Christian Cooke, Jack Doolan, and especially Felicity Jones, who lights up all her scenes with energy and youthful exuberance, all are wonderful in the film. Steve Speirs, Ralph Fiennes, Mathew Goode, and Emily Watson provide good supporting work as well. Gervais plays a supporting role too and is funny and heartfelt, while Merchant makes a very funny offbeat cameo. Based in a world and story structure ripe with cliché, the film easily could have been overly corny and drudgingly mushy, but thanks to the work of its cast and crew it is sweet, funny, entertaining, and most importantly emotional engaging and satisfying.

Cemetery Junction is not the comedy we might expect from Gervais and Merchant; it is however a charming comedic story about growing up. 8/10

Available on Blu-ray and DVD at Amazon.com or to rent at Netflix.com