The Theory of Everything

Last night I saw The Theory of Everything, starring Eddie Redmayne and Felicity Jones.

Most people have heard of Stephen Hawking's famous book A Brief History of Time, but perhaps less know of his personal struggles with ALS.

Diagnosed at age 21, Hawking (Redmayne), refused to accept the death sentence delivered to him (two years) and decided to accelerate his study of scientific theories while he battled the unimaginable physical hurdle of his body failing him day after day.

Of course, as he is still living today, we know that he triumphed, but there were a lot of things that propelled him to success along the way; not least of which was his first wife Jane (Jones), who married him after she learned of his ailment, bore his three children and nursed him day-by-day as his condition got progressively worse.

This film (based on a book written by Jane), is just as much a story about her as it is the famous scientist.

Basically, we see their life beginning when they meet at college and ending just a few years ago, with a satisfying post script explaining their present day existences. Everything in between is like any other family: uplifting, gut-wrenching, confusing, amazing and joyous. It's life.

That's not to say that it's normal—of course marrying someone who is 'supposed' to die in two years is admirable, but hanging on for the long haul is the behavior of a saint, for sure.

Both lead actors master their parts here in an almost eerie authenticity. Jones wears the pain of her situation not in her words, but in her eyes, and a lesser actress may not have pulled it off quite so flawlessly. Redmayne was so chill-inducing accurate (and physically similar) that Hawking himself thought at one point he was watching old footage of his life. There can be no greater endorsement, right?

Although the story is scripted well, and there are no points of boredom for the audience to endure, the real reason to see this sure-to-be-Oscar-contending film is the performances.

Acting doesn't get any better than this.

~~~

The Tree of Life

On Sunday, I saw The Tree of Life, starring Brad Pitt and Hunter McCracken.

This is a film to walk into without expectations, and I wish I'd had that luxury.

I'd heard that I would love it; I'd heard that I would hate it. I'd heard that I would know what it feels like to be a baby, then a young boy. I was told my faith would be challenged. None of that turned out to be remotely true.

I didn't love this movie, but I most certainly didn't hate it—there is too much magic present for that to happen. It stirred intense emotions within me, though while it was doing so I was lamenting the fact it was about an hour too long.

I was impressed by Brad Pitt and Hunter McCracken, who play father and son. I was annoyed by Jessica Chastain (Mom), who seemed always to be running or floating or crying on her sad little suburban street.

I was disappointed that Sean Penn's appearance was so brief, and wondered why the grown-up version of his character was even there.

I was amazed by the beauty of what I was witnessing on-screen: the stars forming; rivers with dinosaurs jumping about; a beautiful baby giggling and cooing; a gorgeous, old tree our symbol of life throughout.

There are a dozen different ways this film could be interpreted—some feasible, others reaching. So I'll just express how I experienced it and wonder if anyone else felt the same way...

I believe the entire movie was meant to show God's perspective.

I believe we were watching the story of one family because most of us could relate to that in the easiest way (and the director's childhood was apparently similar to that of the film's young hero).

I believe it was meant to be a conversation by humans asking God why life is filled with such pain.

I believe it was meant to show that God's plan is merely a cycle and we're all just in each part of it temporarily.

I believe it was meant to show that God sometimes experiences life with us, which is why we must hurt.

I believe it was meant to show that God sees the world in whatever way He chooses: through his own eyes, through those of a child, or via a guilt-ridden adult.

I believe God is meant to be represented as an entity or simply as another branch of nature.

I believe it is up to us to decide.

~~~

I Am Legend

Today I saw I Am Legend, starring Will Smith.

If I hadn't yet seen No Country For Old Men, I may have claimed this was the most nervewracking film of 2007, but even it can't match the Coen brothers gift for tension.

At the core of this science-laden story is heart. Will Smith, always great, plays Robert Neville—a successful scientist convinced he can reverse a terrible virus that has wiped out New York City (and apparently most of the United States as well). We learn the virus had initial good intentions as a cure for cancer (a cameo by Emma Thompson delivers this revelation), but went terribly wrong as it mutated.

As you can imagine, what ensues forces you to abandon all rational thought and play the suspension-of-disbelief game with a non-thinking head.

Instead of the infected just withering away (as one may expect, after an incurable virus attacks the immune system), these victims exhibit "rabies-like" behavior (who knew rabies enabled you to scale walls and pull apart houses with superhuman strength?) and terrorize all who cross their path. They're not vampires in the traditional sense of the word, but they do have an aversion to light and a tendency to chomp at flesh.

Amidst all of this silliness, Neville somehow manages to make us feel sorry for him and bask in his lonely existence (though if I were him, I wouldn't be 'borrowing' one DVD at a time from the now desolate video store—I'd borrow a whole shelf). His dog Samantha brings him a fair amount of companionship, as dogs generally do, and familiar sounds such as Bob Marley on the stereo and Ann Curry on an obviously taped vintage Today Show would undoubtedly help keep one's sanity in tact if they were the last human roaming the city (after all, deer, lions, etc. seem to have no trouble avoiding the virus).

In the visual sense, this movie is arguably great. When things jump out at the characters, you feel they're jumping into your lap; the sounds are just as unnerving.

But as a "I'm the last person left in the world, what am I going to do with myself?" sci-fi romp, I'm disappointed the character chooses to stay at "ground zero" to pursue his mission.

The movie, brief in length, does manage to keep the viewer engaged until the ultimate predictable ending commences. For that, all of the stolen ideas from 28 Days Later can be forgiven.