Movie Review: “The Man Who Knew Infinity” Showcases Slumdog’s Beautiful Mind

[yasr_overall_rating]
 

Growing up poor in Madras, India, Srinivasa Ramanujan Iyengar earns admittance to Cambridge University during WWI, where he becomes a pioneer in mathematical theories with the guidance of his professor, G.H. Hardy.

Some films are so old-fashioned in plot and structure, their predictability can either be reassuring (the lack of shocking developments is akin to a warm cup of tea; see: “About a Boy”) or frustrating (the lack of originality rendering the entire thing utterly redundant; see: this month’s “Mother’s Day”), depending on your predisposition to this sort of fare. Matt Brown’s “The Man Who Knew Infinity” perfectly exemplifies such a film, with a by-the-numbers biopic plot that lacks forward momentum and ultimately gets bogged down in sentimentality. What could have been a fascinating account of a man whose theories and formulas are still used in deciphering black holes, ends up being a run-of-the-mill, nauseatingly cliched, “turn-off-your-brain,” pseudo-uplifting melodrama (ironic, considering it’s a film about math and geniuses) that will “reassure” only those seeking the most basic and, yes, formulaic sources of inspiration. I, for one, was very frustrated.

The film opens in Trinity College, Cambridge, England, 1920: Professor G.H. Hardy (Jeremy Irons) ruminates on his relationship with Ramanujan (Dev Patel), looking out of his window nostalgically: “I suppose it’s always a little difficult for an Englishman and an Indian to understand one another properly. I owe more to him than to anyone else in the world. And my association with him,” he adds despondently, “is the one romantic incident of my life.” (Damn, this dude needs to set aside his calculations and get laid!)

The film then transports us to Madras, India, 1914: Ramanujan is a young math genius; he gets a job with the bigoted Sir Francis Spring (Stephen Fry), who at first bellows, “This man looks like he lives on the street. Get him out of here!” Ramanujan promises him that he’s skilled, and what may be glass now will eventually turn into a diamond (I’m slightly paraphrasing, but that’s quite literally what he says). With nothing but an abacus at his disposal, Ramanujan pursues his dream of moving to England to make new, earth-shattering mathematical discoveries and prove that Indian culture spawns geniuses just as qualified as the Brits. He receives hesitant support from his wife – and even less support from his mother. “What nonsense are you talking?” the latter says over dinner vehemently. “It is forbidden to cross the seas!”

Ramanujan’s breakthrough formulas eventually reach the attention of Hardy, a “man of numbers” who desperately wants to leave a legacy, and his scholarly mate Littlewood (Tobey Jones). Both are so impressed with the young lad’s talents, they hastily recruit him. Upon hearing the news, Ramanujan ceremoniously cuts off his long hair, signifying the upcoming change in his life – thereby horrifying his mother – and, after a tearful goodbye, embarks on the 6,000-mile journey across the ocean.

Hardy and Littlewood greet Ramanujan – somewhat awkwardly. After being thoroughly impressed by all the privileges of Civilized Living, Ramanujan is shocked when, during their first session, Hardy tells him he wants the boy to attend some lectures, instead of, you know, publishing his groundbreaking work on infinite numbers right away. “First we need proofs of your work,” Hardy sternly stays. Even Littlewood exclaims at one point: “This will take a lifetime!” “Maybe two” – Ramanujan responds, with a knowing grin. (Yes, the film is chockfull of references to infinity.)

Together, Hardy and Ramanujan (spoiler alert!) overcome the raging prejudice, bond (Hardy: “What an unlikely team we make!”), share moments of uplift and face more obstacles (tuberculosis, war, suicide), which they overcome against all odds, as they pursue the solution to the central elusive formula. It all ends with a Big Speech scene, and a sprinkle of tragedy – both great Oscar bait. There is also the underdeveloped subplot of Ramanujan’s wife, longing for her husband, into which I won’t delve too deeply here, due simply to its blandness and worthlessness.

Dev Patel is a bit muted in the central role, his performance not so much understated as simply blank, especially in contrast to the British stalwarts that surround him. “The Man Who Knew Infinity” comes alive whenever screen veteran Jeremy Irons is on screen, his by turns weary, forceful, passionate and insecure professor portraying more with single expressions than the filmmakers seemingly ever intended. Stephen Fry is suitably sleazy, but he’s on screen for literally two or three minutes. Tobey Jones is always reliable, and here convincingly plays a man whom Jeremy Northam’s character, Hardy’s nemesis/mentor Bertrand Russell, refers to as “a figment of Hardy’s imagination,” getting blamed for all of Hardy’s mistakes. His trajectory is perhaps the most poignant aspect of this film. Director Matt Brown wisely – or perhaps unknowingly (happy accident?) – lets the actors handle the rougher patches, or the film would have been a complete disaster.

I am harsh. No one sets out to make a bad film, and this one at least deals with grand issues, such as diversity, faith vs science, prejudice, pursuing your dreams despite all odds…Old, worn-out themes, but commendable nonetheless. The world of grumpy British professors competing for intellectual fame is also well portrayed.

But then there’s all the hokey dialogue (“Your accounts better be half as polished as your ego”; “I was told you like numbers more than people”; “You are my everything”, “My God puts formulas on my tongue when I speak” – wait, is this a faith-based film?). There are the foreseeable beats (during his first class, the teacher calls Ramanujan out because the kid’s not taking any notes, but guess what – Ramanujan aces the crap out of that formula on the blackboard, embarrassing the racist teacher). There are scenes that are way OTT, like the young man’s first British lunch experience, where he accidentally eats some animal lard (he’s from India! c’mon, he’s vegetarian!) and storms off – CULTURE CLASH, spelled out, for those of us who can’t read.

Larry Smith’s cinematography is intermittently eye-catching: the man who shot “Only God Forgives” paints the British campus in golden, autumn hues, and the Indian parts in kaleidoscopic colors. Matt Brown’s direction is smooth but unremarkable – but, like I said, at least it doesn’t get in the way of the performances, ultimately letting them carry the film over its muddy waters. The “infinity of math vs the infinity of legacy” concept is hammered into your head constantly – and I wish they added another layer to that notion, say, the futility of striving for infinity due to the brevity of existence, and whether posthumous recognition even matters. The central formula/theory that Hardy and Ramanujan are trying to prove is not compelling enough to sustain interest, and the film contains long, dull patches.

If it’s a heart-warming, cheesy, predictable and uplifting story you’re looking for, say, while ironing or doing dishes, then “The Man Who Knew Infinity” is right up your alley. Make it a double-billing with “A Brilliant Young Mind” (read my review here) for a night of middling underdog stories – or rather don’t, and watch Ben Wheatley’s brilliant “High-Rise” (out in theaters this weekend) instead.

Opens at the Angelika Film Centers in Plano and Dallas Friday, May 13th