I like to judge movies according to how well I believe they have fulfilled their ambition.  Sure, it’s subjective, but what approach isn’t?  You can tell that some films are satisfied to entertain, to amuse, to frighten, to tell a particular story, and that makes a critical response easier to formulate.  Then there are films with broader prospective, which try to Say Something while tackling huge issues.  Their very ambition makes it harder for them to succeed, at least critically, yet it is important that such films are attempted.  The Theory of Everything is a very personal movie with large ambition; it frames one man’s attempt to understand the cosmos within his struggle to maintain control over his own body.

This paradox is personified by Stephen Hawking (Eddie Redmayne), a cosmologist determined to understand the order of the universe at Cambridge University, when he begins to suffer from a motor-neuron disease.  It’s ALS, the so-called “Lou Gehrig” disease, and he is given only two years to live, with rapidly deteriorating health as he succumbs.  Naturally, Hawking is devastated, particularly because the introverted scientist has finally found romance, with art history major Jean Wild (Felicity Jones). He pushes Jean away, but she will have none of it.  Through sheer will, Jean pulls Hawking out of his funk, and they get on with their lives together.

James Marsh’s film is based upon Jean’s memoir, so a surprising and welcome amount of the film’s focus is on her rather than her celebrated husband.  It details the difficulties of living with ALS, of having children and living on a small salary, of having her career take a back seat to his, of living in a society that (back in the ’60s) was just beginning to recognize the need for facilities for people unable to walk or move around like others.  Through it all, with the help of Jane — and other friends — Stephen Hawking persevered, constructing his theories about the universe, trying to make sense of the unimaginable.

The personal level material is handled deftly, presenting a picture of ordinary people trying to build a comfortable life for themselves.  This is no storybook romance, even with grainy flashbacks of happiness.  Jane develops feelings for someone else which complicates everything.  Her life takes over the narrative, and this is where I think the film fails to fulfill its ambition.  Jane’s story is just as important as Stephen’s, but in the second half of the film Stephen essentially disappears into his shell of a body. He’s still around, communicating through his computer after he becomes ill and loses his ability to speak, but he’s lost his importance to the story.  His newest theory idea, which evidently conflicts with the thesis that made him world famous, is treated as an amusing aside, like something a crazy uncle would contribute at a holiday visit.

Ultimately the “everything” the title indicates is different than I expected.  The film never really tries to explain the cosmological aspects of Hawking’s unifying theories, instead sharing the more intimate story of two people experiencing all the good and bad life has to offer.  That’s a pretty big “everything” on its own, and is, of course, quite commendable as a movie subject.  And yet, the movie could have done more. Its midstream focus change from Stephen to Jane changes its very scope, and not necessarily for the better.  It fudges around intimate details and works too hard to maintain a respectful tone when perhaps a few moments of grittier truth would have been preferable.  The acting is fine, but it’s an odd movie wherein the main character becomes an observer to his own life as it is presented to others.  It’s a good movie, but it could have been a great one.  ☆ ☆ ☆.  23 December 2014.