The Theory Of Everything

The Theory Of Everything was the second half of a double feature for me on Saturday night.  The film tells the story of physicist Stephen Hawking (played by Eddie Redmayne).  The action begins shortly before he meets his wife Jane (Felicity Jones) for the first time when they both were in college.  When Stephen was just 21, he was given the devastating diagnosis of  a motor-neuron disease (ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease) and given two years to live. 

Hawking has lived well past that diagnosis, but its effects are debilitating, and the film shows he and Jane trying to raise a family despite Stephen's difficulties.  Jane develops feelings for Stephen's caretaker, so the complications in the story were more than just physical. 

I enjoyed The Theory of Everything, especially the performances by Redmayne and Jones. There were scenes that stuck with me, like when Hawking learns of his diagnosis from  a doctor who lacks  warmth and dumps all the repercussions of his disease out all at once in a hallway.  It's a wonder that Hawking ever gets up again, but Redmayne's portrayal of Hawking's persistence and Jones's firm-jawed performance as Jane Hawking really made the film for me.  I think both could be up for some awards in the months ahead.

Birdman

Riggan Thomsen (played by Michael Keaton) was a big deal.  Past tense.  He played a superhero twenty years ago, but now he's the kind of guy TMZ would catch at an airport to get a meaningless sound bite.  As the film begins he's in his dressing room, and he's got problems. Someone delivered a poster of one of the Birdman movies, and it's taunting him as he tries to mount a Broadway production of a Raymond Carver play that he's starring in and directing.  He needed a miracle when it came to a lead man, and although a solution arrived in the form of Michael Shiner (Edward Norton), that solution is a head case.  Throw in the fact that his daughter Sam (Emma Stone) despises him, and he's got more than enough on his plate.


I was eager to see Birdman.  Other than the part about Michael Keaton playing an actor who was a superhero, I didn't really know what to expect.   Birdman, it turns out, is unlike anything I've seen in a while.  There's steady percussion and drumming in the background.  The camerawork is in-your-face (or rather, in the actors' faces).  The plot adds complication to complication, making the viewer feel almost as overwhelmed as Riggan.  I found myself not on the edge of my seat, but leaning back as events unfolded.

I think Birdman is one of the best films I've seen in a long time, simply because it didn't let up and didn't let me catch my breath. It efficiently and effectively tackles themes of self-worth versus worth in others' eyes, throws in some supernatural elements and a lot of unexpected twists.  I highly recommend seeing Birdman while it's still in theaters, as it's definitely a vivid sensory experience.