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Love in a Time of ALS

Stephen Hawking is a world-renowned and brilliant physicist, not to mention one of the few that people might recognize in a "Jeopardy!" category. It's a shame, then, that a movie based on part of his life is not half as fascinating. The acting in "The Theory of Everything" is amazing all around but it's yet another safe biopic that doesn't dig deep enough.

It's the 1960s in England. Hawking (Eddie Redmayne) and Jane Wilde (Felicity Jones) lock eyes at a party and that leads to a college romance. They dance under the stars, even though he doesn't dance. He's a physicist who slacks off but has big ideas, and she's into studying medieval Spanish poetry. Early into their relationship, like right away, he is diagnosed with motor neuron disease, or ALS. But that's not going to scare Jane away and instead they marry and have a family and she takes care of all of them.

The promos make "The Theory of Everything" look like some kind of love-conquers-all epic romance, which is misleading. A love of knowledge or commitment or beating medical odds, sure, but this isn't a heart-warming tale of a relationship that can survive anything, or even one that should. That is a ballsy move and one that could be really interesting to watch, but instead we get a glossed-over account of just about everything except Hawking's illness.

To that end, the best part of "The Theory of Everything" is Redmayne, who makes the transition totally believable. This is a role that relies heavily on physicality, from the slanted feet early on to the twitches that come later, and the eyes that never stop sparkling and yearning. He is followed closely in excellence by Jones as Hawking's wife, who is devoted to her husband and tries to hold everything together.

This movie is based on Jane's own book "Travelling to Infinity: My Life with Stephen," so her semi-saintly depiction may stem from that. She never once screams at the top of her lungs or flips a table or acts out in any way that someone in her situation would on occasion. At most, she seems slightly sad sometimes and with a lustful eye for friend/family helper Jonathan (Charlie Cox). Also, Hawking is intelligent beyond words but not known to be the cuddliest. Instead of showing how he refused home care for years, putting much of the burden on his young son, the movie has him saying "nah" a couple of times like he's turning down a casserole.

The real story of what happened here seems much more compelling and layered than what writer Anthony McCarten and director James Marsh depict on screen. The finished product isn't bad (minus a few scenes of cheesy slow-clapping after Hawking speaks to a crowd) and the acting is exceptional, but Hawking is too extraordinary for such an ordinary film.