The Imitation Game (2014)

“Normal? The world is an infinitely better place precisely because you weren’t.”

That is The Imitation Game in a nutshell. The biopic sets out to reaffirm Alan Turing’s key contribution towards solving Germany’s enigma code during World War II as well as his importance in the field of modern computing. This comes in the wake of very recent royal and governmental pardons for Turing’s 1952 conviction for homosexual acts which arguably led to his suicide two years later.

Turing is painted as a man who measured all communication, even human conversation, in mathematical terms. Indeed many early scenes are built around the punchline that Turing cannot understand puns and jokes. Ironically, for a film about the incomprehension of subtextual language, it is incredible how superficial its dialogue is.

The script is hammy and ridden with clanging sentiments, so much so that the first ten minutes are almost funny because of it. But however ridiculous the lines are, it is equally ridiculous how this problem melts away as the film progresses. At first I thought the writing might be improving but eventually became convinced that I was in fact simply settling into the rhythm of the film and its primary focus – story. And most importantly: telling its story through events rather than believable verbal exchanges.

Because actually, from a structural standpoint, the film is simply immaculate. Every dramatic incident is correctly placed, every scene serves the whole. There is no doubt that a careful plotting of its key moments would produce a line graph with a flawlessly symmetrical arch. I suppose this is apposite for a film about a mathematical genius.

Its central themes of man and machine, secrets and revelation, games and codes, intertwine impressively neatly. We are compelled, at all times, to focus on the parallels between Turing’s work and his private life and his anguish in marrying the differences (and similarities) between scientific formulae and social convention.

The film is all about Turing – Utterly All. About. Turing – and reinstating his reputation at the cost of the depth of any other character involved in his story. The more the film admits it – and everything from the voiceover narration of his own life to the subtitles at the film’s end demonstrates how much it understands itself – the less problematic it gets. The true story is juicy and the film squeezes all of that juice out in just the right way as to make it deeply satisfying.

Helping it along its way is the cast. Benedict Cumberbatch is predictably brilliant; we all know he does sociopath extremely well, but he also rises to deliver the overt emotional gestures that a biopic like this asks for. Deserving of as much praise, perhaps more so for effectively masking much of the script’s problems, are the supporting cast. The likes of Keira Knightley (woefully underused and starved of depth), Mark Strong (always reliable) and Matthew Goode inject just enough life into parts written essentially as ornamental caricatures to elevate what the film considers peripheral into the realms of interesting and beneficial.

I’m a huge fan of careful dialogue and an enemy of unnecessary exposition. As such, I was shocked at how much I enjoyed The Imitation Game. While there will always be a niggling unease at a film that eschews the small matter of three-dimensional characters in favour ‘bigger’ concerns, in this case it is as a result of conscious choice rather than sheer incompetence. I wonder if its makers purposefully attempt to make it as difficult for themselves to understand human behavior as it is suggested Turing did.

More than forgiving the film its flaws, I actually marvel at it and still need to mull over exactly how it pulls off its trick. Not to be underestimated, I think, is how enjoyable it is simply to learn about the achievements at Bletchley Park, which had to be kept secret for so long. The story of Enigma is still fairly fresh, and an important part of history that many of us are still eager to learn about.

As for the film’s depiction of its hero – while the amount of conspicuous reverence bestowed upon Turing borders on worship, this is probably the right way to tell his life story at this point in history. This is a man whose royal pardon only came less than a year ago, an apology that can never really make amends for Turing’s abominable treatment at the hands of the country he helped save.

As Turing’s life and work is reassessed, eventually a grittier account of his life will surface and will likely be more nourishing when it arrives. For now, The Imitation Game begins the process admirably.

Nightcrawler (2014)

It’s difficult to find much information about Nightcrawler’s writer/director Dan Gilroy. With only a handful of writing credits to his name during a career spanning over 20 years he appears both a seasoned veteran and a green upstart. Whatever explains his trajectory in the industry, it led to this film – so it can’t be bad.

Utilising the intense nocturnal-ness that made his performances in Donnie Darko and Zodiac so striking, Jake Gyllenhaal stars as sociopath Louis Bloom, a creepy autodidact intent on cashing in on television news’ insatiable lust for bloody stories with which to terrify audiences and therefore drive up ratings. Armed with a police radio and a video camera, Bloom trawls the night, seeking out violent crime and horrific accidents, often arriving on the scene before the emergency services. Once capturing the debris on film (at any cost), he sells the footage to a news broadcaster just in time to make their breakfast show.

Gyllenhaal gives the performance of his career. He makes Bloom a magnetic anti-hero. What he captures best is the drive and ambition of his character, causing us to be awkwardly awestruck at how passionate he pursues his depraved goals. This, along with the narrow-minded subjectivity of the direction (that’s a good thing), invites us to get behind Bloom and – as the stakes get higher – subconsciously wince when the obstacles stack up against him and smirk with guilty glee when he gets his way.

All 3 central characters are drawn well. It was no surprise to me to learn that the first-time director is an experienced writer. Although this is Gyllenhaal’s moment and he’ll be the one touted for awards, it cannot be denied that both Rene Russo, who plays news director Nina, and Riz Ahmed, who plays Bloom’s protégé Rick, match the leading man at every step with skilled and detailed performances. They deliver characters that are designed for us to measure Bloom’s mental state against. Just how abnormal is he in a world that was already amoral before he entered it?

The reason that Russo and Ahmed’s performances might fly under the radar has something to do with how attractive constructed Lou Bloom’s dialogue is. This is a man who doesn’t let the qualms of others get in the way of his own eloquence and quick wit. Bloom is sharp, he never takes his eye of the ball and Gilroy has a field day with his lines, feeding Gyllenhaal consistently tasty paragraphs, all of which he delivers with those unnervingly bright eyes.

The film is shot as nicely as it is written. For a debut director, it can’t have hurt to be telling a story about a man whose life mission is to meticulously frame the subjects he is capturing on camera; it must have kept Gilroy as focused as his main character. Especially impressive is the ebb and flow of pace during the film’s climactic scenes which is what keeps them thrilling for longer. Some of the personal scenes involving Bloom alone might have been handled a little slower but that’s as much my taste as anything.

It’s a really good film, one of the best of the year.