The Man Who Knew Infinity

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Matt Brown/Starring: Dev Patel, Jeremy Irons, Toby Jones, Devika Bhise, Jeremy Northam and Stephen Fry

The famous Indian mathematician; Srinivasa Ramanujan, whose contributions to his field are comparable to the greatest mathematical minds, is a man who truly deserves a biographical film. But director Matt Brown's The Man Who Knew Infinity; based on the book The Man Who Knew Infinity: A Life of the Genius Ramanjan, calls out for a documentary format rather than a narrative to tell his incredible story.

The problems with films about geniuses, whether they be scientists, artists or writers, deal with the issue of communicating accomplishments to a movie audience who may not grasp the implications of said genius's intellectual or creative works. I for one am no mathematician and haven't even a rudimentary knowledge of what the personalities in Brown's film are on about. This in itself isn't necessarily a problem; we can thank the filmmakers for not condescending to audience or dumbing down the material to the point of oversimplification. But for a narrative film about one of mankind's mathematical giants, a little elucidation wouldn't hurt. This is where a few talking heads in a biographical documentary might help a lay person (like myself) understand the mathematician's work. I don't need much, nor does an intelligent audience who find Ramanujan's work intriguing. Unless the filmmaker can effectively articulate genius without the reliable method of having characters stand around, offering explication, like Salieri in Amadeus, our conception of said genius is incomplete. In Brown's film, we know Ramanujan is someone special because a gaggle of academics frequently tell us his work is amazing. We grasp the significance of his work but the details of his ideas remain frustratingly beyond our reach (unless one is a mathematician).

In the film, we meet Ramanujan (Dev Patel); a poor laborer struggling to earn a living in the second decade of early twentieth century Madras, India. Ramanujan's passion for mathematics is readily apparent as we see him draw equations in chalk on the stony floor of a Hindu temple. He carries around a tattered book of his work, which he shows to his employer at his accounting job where he serves as a clerk. Always eager to submit his work to someone who might understand its importance, he presents his journal to his boss; Sir Francis Spring (Stephan Fry); who is initially skeptical of Rmanujan's work until he too recognizes the young man's exceptional talent. Spring helps Ramanujan along by submitting his work to the famed mathematician G.H. Hardy (Jeremy Irons) at Trinity College at Cambridge University.

Hardy and colleague J.E. Littlewood (Toby Jones) are taken with Ramanujan's work but the lack of proofs in his equations prove to be a red flag. Troubling them also is Ramanujan's lack of formal education and academic credentials. But recognizing the singular brilliance of his work, they invite him to Cambridge. The extraordinary opportunity isn't lost on Ramanujan. But leaving India for Great Britain poses problems for him at home. Pursuing his passion means leaving his wife and mother, whose rivalrous claims for his affection do him little good.

But Ramanujan finds other problems awaiting him at Cambridge, where a bigoted student body and faculty await him. He also finds Hardy to be emotionally distant though Littlewood proves to be more welcoming and helpful.

The scenes at Cambridge show us a battle of wills, methods and faith as Hardy takes exception to the lack of proofs in Ramanujan's work. An intuitive mathematician, Ramanujan grows impatient with Hardy's frequent demands to back his work, which becomes an ongoing bone of contention. While Hardy expects Ramanujan to attend classes, the Indian prodigy demands his work be published.

But other issues involving school-life prove to be difficult for him to surmount. Bigoted behavior by students and a professor who becomes incensed when Ramanujan excitedly but ill-advisedly takes to the blackboard during class to solve a math problem, only to incur his instructor's wrath after class. Being separated from his wife and living alone on campus contribute to his adversity, as does the outbreak of WWI, which turns Cambridge into a hospital for injured soldiers.

As he continues to submit work to Hardy and Littlewood, Ramanujan finds his intuition has limits, for errors are found in his work involving prime numbers.

Hardy finds some of his colleagues are less than pleased with his treatment of Ramanujan. Bertrand Russell (Jeremy Northam) chides Hardy for not allowing Ramanujan to run free with his work. The tensions between Hardy and Ramanujan mount as the former's atheism and celibacy clash with the latter's profound religiousness and his life beyond math, namely his love for his wife and mother. Though Hardy is resolute in his atheism, he finds Ramanujan's love for Hinduism to be equally passionate. An interesting moment in the film is an exchange between the two men when Hardy asks Ramanujan where his mathematical insights come from. He tells Hardy a Hindu god places the equations on his tongue.

In the film's third act, Hardy and Ramanujan collaborate on what is known as Partition Function, or as it is referred to in the film; Partitions. Ramanujan and Hardy's project quickly draws incredulous reactions from the college's math faculty, who see their work as something impossible. What Partitions are remains a mystery to me and probably will to most film-goers. But at least we know it is something monumental.

As Hardy and Ramanujan feverishly chase their goal, personal problems begin to dog the Indian autodidact. The war creates a shortage of food while the English cold creates an unforeseen vexation for a man used to the warmth of Indian climes. And as Ramanujan's homesickness and his longing for his wife prevail the racist culture of his environment persists. A group of British soldiers, taking umbrage to his presence, beat and kick him, leaving him bruised. The assault precedes a angry confrontation with Hardy, who he scolds for deliberately ignoring his wounds.

More troubling is the diagnoses of tuberculosis a doctor gives Ramanujan after his cough becomes more pronounced. In spite of Hardy's optimistic outlook, Ramanujan is more pessimistic about his health. The illness makes time spent on Partitions more precious.

It isn't spoiling the story to say the two men eventually succeed, earning the admiration and awe of their fellow mathematicians. Equally impressive is Ramanujan's acceptance to the Royal Society.

When Ramanujan returns to India to be with his wife and mother, Hardy expects to see him in a year's time, but the audience knows he has most likely seen the last of his colleague and friend. The end subtitles confirm this, as we're given information about Ramanujan's work, which stands as a towering achievement in the annals of mathematics. We also learn something about a lost notebook that was uncovered in the 1970s'. To give the audience some perspective, we're informed the notebook's significance is something akin to finding Beethoven's 10th symphony.

The main story is ill-served by two weak subplots; Ramanujan's relationship with his wife and mother and the strained relationship between the two women, which really do nothing to bolster the main story. Hardy and Ramanujan's relationship isn't as dramatic as it should be. Though we often hear Hardy's colleagues needle him about the impersonal distance he maintains with his collaborator, I never really felt it or realized it was much of a problem. Given the surroundings and the prestige a legendary university like Cambridge confers on its students and faculty, I would expect any student to not be emotionally coddled in such a an intellectually demanding environment. This seems like manufactured, touchy-feely stuff grafted on to the story and characters. Though Ramanujan and Hardy have disparate thoughts on religion, the movie also devises a religion vs atheism dynamic, which boils down to faith and God good; atheism and reason bad. Hardy's atheism is seen as an extension of his cold, emotionally distant demeanor while Ramanujan's religious devotion is supposed to be part of his warm demeanor and a key to his mathematical insights.

In a narrative biopic about a mathematician, we hardly need delve into equations in minute detail but Brown could have thrown us a bone with a working explanation of Partitions, just as Ryan Gosling attempts to explain the abstruse minutiae behind housing collapse in The Big Short.

Mostly everything about Brown's film seems perfunctory though Patel and Irons at least make the drama simmer with their affecting performances.

The film gets a few facts wrong in the film. Littlewood points to a tree on the Trinity College grounds and says "that's where Newton sat when he devised his theory of gravitation." This is niggling but Newton actually had his serendipitous moment on his mother's farm. Also, the film leads us to believe Ramanujan's death was caused by complications arising from tuberculosis when in fact it was mostly caused by a parasitic infection he picked up in Madras earlier in his life. But I guess tuberculosis always makes for a more romantic death.

Ramanujan's story is more fascinating than Brown's film. As aforementioned, his story would be more thoroughly told in a documentary. What is the impact of his work? How is he regarded by contemporaries? Is he really in Newton's league as a great mind? A narrative film can only tell us so much. The Man Who Knew Infinity is a worthwhile introduction to its subject but not an absorbing drama. A man as incredible as Srinivasa Ramanujan needs more than an middling art house flick to tell his story. Maybe something more powerful is to come.

Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Zack Snyder/Starring: Ben Affleck, Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Jesse Eisenberg, Diane Lane, Laurence Fishburne, Jeremy Irons, Holly Hunter and Gal Gadot

It's difficult to expect something new from a flick like Zack Snyder's Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, now that superhero movies have become multiplex repertory. And what two superheroes have been depicted on T.V. and movie screens more than the Caped Crusader and The Man of Steel? Spiderman and the X-Men come close but still fall short of the exposure the DC comics characters have garnered over the years.
What more do audiences need to know about Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne; their super alter-egos and their respective origins? Snyder's film knows we know all about them yet his story still draws from their familiar pasts for psychological motivation, particularly Bruce Wayne's.

But what can one say about the film, with its requisite carnage, deafening sound effects and its heroes turning city skylines into mounds of steel and concrete? Does Snyder's film offer a refreshing take on the characters or a new, exciting story; something to renew audience interest in the overly familiar? My answer to the afore-posed question is a resounding no, but that doesn't mean it isn't fun to watch. The movie relies on our curiosity about what might actually happen if Batman and Superman tangled more than our fascination to keep us in our seats.
In spite of its cacophonous incoherence and it's more-of-the-sameness, the movie manages to be an enjoyable two-and-a-half hour spectacle. I guess I had better find it passably entertaining; there is surely more to come.

In the film's opening scenes, we are immediately dropped into the action, as Batman/Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) watches as Superman (Henry Cavill) wreaks havoc on city skyscrapers while battling an alien ship and his nemesis; fellow-Kryptonian General Zod, who he manages to defeat and kill.
Though Superman's exploits are highly regarded by the city news-rag The Daily Planet, Batman looks askance on his destructive impact on the city. It isn't long before the two superheroes find their respective crime-fighting pursuits clash, bringing them face to face in a stay-out-of-my-way confrontation that almost comes to blows.

But unbeknownst to them, a young tech CEO named Lex Luthor (played eccentrically by Jesse Eisenberg) has drawn on General Zod's attack as a pretext to plan his own defense of the planet against more of Superman's kind. When a chunk of Kryptonite is found on General Zod's downed ship, Luthor seeks U.S. Senator Finch's (Holly Hunter) consent to allow its importation. Unsure of Luthor's real motives, she refuses him, though we know he will hardly be thwarted by government regulations. Able to test the effects of Kryptonite on cell samples of Zod's body, Luthor discovers Superman's vulnerability. He wastes little time in putting his discovery into effect, as does Bruce Wayne, who manages to make a similar find. Luthor, having run afoul of Batman, devises a devious plan to make Superman and Batman fight, hoping for a scenario of mutual assured destruction.

Though Luthor succeeds in his nefarious endeavor, the two heroes finally realize they are fighting on the same side. When Luthor's plan fails, he devises an alternate plan to destroy Batman and Superman using the technology on General Zod's ship. Mingling his blood with that of the dead Kryptonian, he creates a monstrous creature whose strength proves to be too much for Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman (Gail Gadot); whose timely arrival is prompted by the unfolding crisis. Though the heroic triumvirate fights valiantly, they find the creature almost invulnerable. Superman's love; Lois Lane (Amy Adams) demonstrates some heroics of her own when she repurposes a Kryptonite-tipped spear of Batman's design for the fight against Luthor's monster.

It isn't difficult to plot the rest of the movie and as we're allowed teasing glimpses of other superheroes, we know the film is headed to franchise paradise.

The film has so much working against it, particularly our over-familiarity with the characters. Another of its many flaws are the performances by Cavill and Affleck, which are mostly wooden. Cavill, who can usually be counted on to be lifeless onscreen, makes the usually unexpressive Affleck look as though he's overacting. Amy Adams is a welcome sight, as is her performance, which is one of the few that isn't leaden. More relief from the stiff acting comes from Eisenberg, who gives Luthor a nerdy genius makeover.

What usually makes a long superhero seem longer is nonsensical, urban destruction, which becomes almost a joke. If I were a city official, I might regard Batman and Superman's heroics as more of a menace and nuisance than Luthor's nefarious deeds. How does the city tolerate so much destruction? Oh well, I guess Gotham's urban planners, architects and contractors will always have work.

Snyder and the writers try hard to introduce moral and ethical angst into the film as the question of vigilantism is posed and briefly pondered, but this seems like a tired subject for a superhero movie.

At 155 minutes, the film should be intolerable but surprisingly, it isn't. It also isn't great or even particularly good, but it is entertaining enough, which is the new modified high-praise assessment audiences have reserved for superhero movies now. What the movie needed was a smattering of Deadpool's humor to liven up Gotham. Too bad it's too serious to have moments of levity.

In spite of its shortcomings, I have a mild, grudging affection for the movie. I wouldn't dissuade anyone from paying to see it, but I wouldn't urge anyone to hurry to the multiplex either. It's dumb fun, which is preferable to just dumb. If you don't know what I mean, just watch Miracles from Heaven. Amen.

Race

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Stephen Hopkins/Starring: Stephan James, Jason Sudeikis, Jeremy Irons, William Hurt, Carice van Houten, Barnaby Metschurat and Shanice Banton

I'm always leery of Hollywood sports biopics. They always seem to slide into sentimental, Disney-esque, feel-good tripe. I had such misgivings before I saw Race; director Stephen Hopkins' film on the great Jesse Owens, who electrified the world by winning four gold medals at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. But I discovered the film had greater ambitions and though it celebrates Owen's triumphant displays of athleticism, it doesn't cower from what much of the film is about: racism and discrimination. And though we expect to see scenes of ugly, race hatred in Nazi Germany, Hopkins' story doesn't let America off the hook for its own appalling race relations. As stated in the film, the situation for blacks in Germany was hardly different than in the states, where institutionalized racism was the norm.

But what is surprising about Hopkins' moving film is that it is really three stories in one; all reflecting an overarching racial theme. One of course is Jesse Owens' Olympian feats; another is American Olympic committee representative Avery Brundage (Jeremy Irons) and his struggle to keep America from boycotting the Berlin Games while yet another story depicts legendary German filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl's efforts to make her now famous Olympic film. Riefenstahl, played with gusto by Carice van Houten, encounters the formidable, Nazi propaganda machine in the form of sinister Joseph Goebbels; who is intent on using the games to promote the party's platform on Aryan, racial superiority. The film is aptly christened, for the word race applies to the story in several ways.

Another film featuring several narrative streams might lose sight of one at the expense of another. Hopkins and screenwriters Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse manage to make the plot and its subplots cohere into one affective story and in the process we learn much about the racial politics surrounding the '36 Olympics.

The story doesn't begin with Owens' childhood but the days leading up to his departure for Ohio State University. Early on we get a glimpse of his family life, where the struggle to make ends meet in Depression-era Cleveland is a constant. Owens' opportunity to attend college is made possible by his astonishing high school track and field accomplishments.

After Owens (Stephan James) arrives on the University campus, he meets the track and field coach Larry Snyder (Jason Sudeikis); whose own Olympian opportunity was dashed by an accident that left unable to compete in the 1924 Games. In the awkward first meeting, Snyder offers Owens a chance to make the Olympic team for the Berlin games, which are several years in the future. Owens immediately accepts but neglects to mention his girlfriend and his child, who he must support with his meager gas station pay. But though Owens promises Snyder he will devote the majority of his time to track and field, he finds the demands of supporting his child and girlfriend Ruth (Shanice Banton) and attending track practice to be overwhelming. Snyder is irked to find Owens neglected to divulge his family situation but is nevertheless sympathetic; securing him a bogus campus job for a livable wage that will allow him more track time.

The early scenes between Owens and Snyder are bracing for their tension, as the coach's past and his heavy drinking clash with Owens frustrations with campus bigotry and Ohio's own brand of segregation. We see that Jim Crow attitudes and practices were hardly relegated to the south

While Owens becomes a college track star, shattering NCAA records, another drama unfolds in the American Olympic headquarters in New York as the committee members debate the pros and cons of boycotting the Berlin Games. Citing the Nazi's virulent anti-semitism, committee member Jeremiah Mahoney (William Hurt) pushes for non-participation while Avery Brundage holds the position that beating the Nazis' could be a cogent act of defiance and a way to discredit their claims about a master race.
In later scenes, we see Brundage arrive in Berlin to secure a promise from Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels (a chilling Barnaby Metschurat) that the Reich will clean up its act and support a racially inclusive Olympics. At the meeting is Riefenstahl, who acts as translator for Goebbels. Brundage gets tough, threatening to keep America out of the Olympics if the Minister doesn't comply. Securing a promise, Brundage returns to America. But during another meeting with Goebbels, he forms a business deal that will later haunt him.

Riefenstahl herself butts heads with Goebbels, whose impatience with the filmmaker makes progress on her Olympic film exceedingly difficult.

Owens faces considerable pressure at home from those who believe he should boycott the Games and those, like Snyder, who feel he should compete. An official from the NAACP visits Owens, urging him not to participate to show solidarity for the those suffering discrimination in Germany. Though he actually agrees to the boycott, the opportunity to compete ultimately proves overpowering.

The Games themselves become a showcase for Owens' brilliance as he easily wins the 100 and 200 meter events. But during the long jump, he accidentally scratches his first attempt then fouls his second attempt before the German long jumper, Luz Long (David Kross), offers him a helpful way to avoid scratching the third time. Owens and Long then engage in a long-jumping duel where both break the previous Olympic record before Owens ultimately prevails. Owens thanks Long after and the exchange becomes the basis of a friendship that lasts beyond the games. Though Owens friendship with Long smacks of plot contrivance, their mutual fondness and admiration was, in fact, real, which makes a powerful statement on its own about racial harmony.

Before the American Jewish track participants can compete in the 4 by 100 relay, Goebbels coerces Brundage into striking them from the race, creating another politically sticky situation. Owens is asked to run in their place but only does so after the runners give their consent. His participation in the relay helps the team win first place and his fourth gold medal but it also provides the Jewish runners a degree of satisfaction.

In the final, heartbreaking scenes, we see how more degradation is visited upon Owens when he returns home. At an event in his honor, Owens and Ruth and Snyder and his girlfriend arrive for the fete but before the group can gain access, the doorman prevents Owens from entering through the main door; directing him instead to the building's side entrance.
The incident is but one indignity Owens endured, for the closing subtitles inform us that Owens' achievement wasn't recognized by the American government until 1990.

I found the film to be very entertaining and often very moving. Though I wouldn't go so far to call it an artistic achievement, it still stands as a poignant portrait of Owens and his times. We can credit the filmmakers for not white-washing history with candy-apple revisionism. The film is keen to remind us that America's race relations were no better than Nazi Germany's.
I like that the film broadened its narrative scope to include Brundage's role in ensuring America's participation in the Games without air-brushing his dark dealings with Goebbels. I also think it was inspired to include the making of Leni Riefenstahl's film as part of the story. In defiance of the Nazi Party ethos, we see her celebrate Owens athletic prowess on film as he reenacts his record-setting long jumps for her camera.

What is supposed to be an event free of politics and racial bigotry was anything but in 1936, as Hopkins' film effectively testifies. But it would be a mistake to overlook the compassion many whites in the film felt for minorities, like Snyder, who rode steerage with Owens and the other black athletes during the voyage across the ocean and Brundage, who, in spite of his secret negotiations with Goebbels, did fight for the inclusion of Jews in the games. We also see Riefenstahl's artistic vision remained unsullied by the Reich's loathsome ideas about race.

Race is highly entertaining and a fascinating bit of history. The film celebrates the achievements of an extraordinary man but doesn't shrink from the seamier side of the times in which he lived. The saddest fact we might glean from his story may be that America never fully appreciated the man and his accomplishments. Maybe Hopkins' film helps to keep him in our thoughts.