The secrets behind the true victors of World War II were only divulged not too long ago (interestingly enough, it's hard to come by the exact date of the reveal). This tale is about Alan Turing, a brilliant mathematician who went on to break the Nazis' enigma code and help win the war. Now, there's always that one Oscar-bait film every year that I like much more than I expected. Unlike the rubbish biopics like The Theory of Everything, The Imitation Game actually celebrates the genius. It doesn't try to sentimentally conclude that there's a genius in everyone (because there's frankly not)—not another inspiring story about how everyone can achieve monumental achievements just like Stephen Hawking and Alan Turing. It was very clear from the beginning that Turing wasn't "normal"—that he deviated from other people for a reason. Normality usually never ends with a tremendous legacy; it's the people who were ignored or unappreciated during their lifetime—the people who were condemned; the people who really didn't care about expectations and general rules—that eventually reach glory. In this case, it takes fifty years for Turing's vast accomplishments to finally be disclosed to the public—let the countless biographic novels and films about him now come.
Benedict Cumberbatch's sheer charisma never appears to end as he, once again, encapsulates another sort of personality—the socially inept loner whose solely logical mind and utter arrogance centers on one goal, one total passion of his: the sizable computing machine he's building to crack the impossibly indecipherable German messages. (Keep in mind I've never seen the Sherlock series; so, I'm totally new to this refreshing side of Cumberbatch after seeing him portray a frighteningly menacing villain in last year's Star Trek sequel.) This might sound like typical Oscar-bait material, but it sometimes also largely depends on the particular film's execution. Take 2010's The King's Speech, for instance; what could've easily been another Oscar- checklisting inspirational narrative ended up transcending its material with absolutely believable and natural characters and performances that suck you in beyond any failures in the story's quality and lack of inventiveness.
Again, unlike The Theory of Everything (which I have a feeling I'll be knocking down more and more as this review proceeds), we don't hear a lot of that soapy, Lifetime music that shadows the emotional moments. Alexandre Desplat's score here is incredibly emotional without the help of some manipulative, weeping piano notes. The music takes more of the tone of a grand, majestic story, or occasionally perhaps something that makes it feel more like a spy thriller rather than a standard soap opera. Another admirable trait of the film that further defied my expectations was the integrity that stayed with Turing's character to the bitter end; he never loses his conceit or eccentric personality. That clichéd Hollywood arc of character development (the distant bigot suddenly becomes a compassionate benefactor a la Dallas Buyer's Club) thankfully can't be found here. Right from the get-go, Graham Moore's impeccably sharp screenplay wastes no time in shaping these characters, especially Turing, himself, who's given a few humorous scenes to profoundly introduce himself to the audience. Kiera Knightley plays opposite Cumberbatch as an intelligent, dignified woman in the midst of a male- concentrated environment in a male-dominated time period. The dynamic between Cumberbatch and Knightley's Joan Clarke is sweet and amusing; there's no need for a traditional romantic interest/shallow plot line since this relationship is strictly platonic (and Turing, of course, is homosexual anyway).
The complexity and intricateness of the heavily mathematical, scientific code-breaking concept of The Imitation Game is satisfyingly condensed so that the plot doesn't continue with frustrating convolution that of which frequently hinders many spy thrillers. Personally, a great screenplay can always simplify complicated ideas to the extent that it still feels natural and realistic. With all that being said, the script does tend to deliver some of the film's themes quite heavy-handedly in moments to the point of that sappiness that's become a staple of Oscar-bait biopics. Reciting the same line several times throughout the picture as to persist that thematic idea ("Sometimes, it is the people who no one imagines anything of, who do the things that no one can imagine") usually doesn't work, impacting with a mawkish taste rather than with sincerity.
On another note, while I appreciated the inclusion of the disarmingly tragic conclusion to Turing's story, it seemingly glossed over it all as if in a rush to avoid a lingering gloomy mood to close on. The Imitation Game, regardless, is fully effective in its shuffling of undoubtedly significant subjects, including topical mentions of homosexual ostracism (and worse, punishment) and the important technological advancements of mankind—the capability of the human mind and the lengths of its imagination—and how much that has all reshaped our world from then to now. Most of all, as the credits roll and the beautiful score surfaces, your eyes water for the men and women that lived in stress and died without recognition or appreciation.
Benedict Cumberbatch's sheer charisma never appears to end as he, once again, encapsulates another sort of personality—the socially inept loner whose solely logical mind and utter arrogance centers on one goal, one total passion of his: the sizable computing machine he's building to crack the impossibly indecipherable German messages. (Keep in mind I've never seen the Sherlock series; so, I'm totally new to this refreshing side of Cumberbatch after seeing him portray a frighteningly menacing villain in last year's Star Trek sequel.) This might sound like typical Oscar-bait material, but it sometimes also largely depends on the particular film's execution. Take 2010's The King's Speech, for instance; what could've easily been another Oscar- checklisting inspirational narrative ended up transcending its material with absolutely believable and natural characters and performances that suck you in beyond any failures in the story's quality and lack of inventiveness.
Again, unlike The Theory of Everything (which I have a feeling I'll be knocking down more and more as this review proceeds), we don't hear a lot of that soapy, Lifetime music that shadows the emotional moments. Alexandre Desplat's score here is incredibly emotional without the help of some manipulative, weeping piano notes. The music takes more of the tone of a grand, majestic story, or occasionally perhaps something that makes it feel more like a spy thriller rather than a standard soap opera. Another admirable trait of the film that further defied my expectations was the integrity that stayed with Turing's character to the bitter end; he never loses his conceit or eccentric personality. That clichéd Hollywood arc of character development (the distant bigot suddenly becomes a compassionate benefactor a la Dallas Buyer's Club) thankfully can't be found here. Right from the get-go, Graham Moore's impeccably sharp screenplay wastes no time in shaping these characters, especially Turing, himself, who's given a few humorous scenes to profoundly introduce himself to the audience. Kiera Knightley plays opposite Cumberbatch as an intelligent, dignified woman in the midst of a male- concentrated environment in a male-dominated time period. The dynamic between Cumberbatch and Knightley's Joan Clarke is sweet and amusing; there's no need for a traditional romantic interest/shallow plot line since this relationship is strictly platonic (and Turing, of course, is homosexual anyway).
The complexity and intricateness of the heavily mathematical, scientific code-breaking concept of The Imitation Game is satisfyingly condensed so that the plot doesn't continue with frustrating convolution that of which frequently hinders many spy thrillers. Personally, a great screenplay can always simplify complicated ideas to the extent that it still feels natural and realistic. With all that being said, the script does tend to deliver some of the film's themes quite heavy-handedly in moments to the point of that sappiness that's become a staple of Oscar-bait biopics. Reciting the same line several times throughout the picture as to persist that thematic idea ("Sometimes, it is the people who no one imagines anything of, who do the things that no one can imagine") usually doesn't work, impacting with a mawkish taste rather than with sincerity.
On another note, while I appreciated the inclusion of the disarmingly tragic conclusion to Turing's story, it seemingly glossed over it all as if in a rush to avoid a lingering gloomy mood to close on. The Imitation Game, regardless, is fully effective in its shuffling of undoubtedly significant subjects, including topical mentions of homosexual ostracism (and worse, punishment) and the important technological advancements of mankind—the capability of the human mind and the lengths of its imagination—and how much that has all reshaped our world from then to now. Most of all, as the credits roll and the beautiful score surfaces, your eyes water for the men and women that lived in stress and died without recognition or appreciation.