The Man Who Knew Infinity

Studio: IFC Films
Directed by Matthew Brown

May 02, 2016 By Stephen Mayne Web Exclusive

Two love stories sit at the heart of The Man Who Knew Infinity, neither of them romantic. The first lies between Indian mathematical prodigy Srinivasa Ramanujan (Dev Patel) and Cambridge Professor G. H. Hardy (Jeremy Irons), the second between Ramanujan and, mathematics itself. Despite sticking religiously to the “How to make a handsome period biopic” guidebook, Matthew Brown’s film proves to be made of rather stirring stuff.

From the start, everything screams prestige drama. Under the constant tinkling of restrained piano and the cultured drawl of the British elite, we’re introduced to the grand world of Trinity College Cambridge, circa World War One. Everyone dresses immaculately with oak panelling, pipes, and cricket never too far away. Before arriving here, there’s a brief spell in stereotypically colorful colonial India, but no one seems much interested in Ramanujan’s life there, a problem plaguing an ill-guided subplot with his wife throughout.

It’s not what’s interesting about Ramanujan anyway. This is a man with no formal mathematical training, laughed at by academics, yet so inconceivably brilliant his work continues to open up new avenues a century later. After filling notebooks with outlandish theories that have mostly been proven correct, he sought help to publish. Hardy took him in, attempting to instil rigour in a man driven by otherworldly vision. The film is their relationship as Hardy comes to love the young man he’s mentoring to greatness, and Ramanujan finally gets his chance to shine.

When the focus is on Ramanujan and Hardy, The Man Who Knew Infinity works well. Patel’s detached fervour complements Irons, as smoothly watchable as always, especially when dealing with priggish colleagues who despise everything Ramanujan stands for. And as predictable as the emotional crescendos are, they still manage to leave hairs standing on end. Even the mathematics is handled well, carefully avoiding dumbed down explanations. Ramanujan is creating complex work beyond basically everyone. To present it as something else would be a disservice.

It’s when other elements are added in that stumbles occur. Half-hearted cuts to Ramanujan’s wife (Devika Bhise) back in India can’t possibly have the intended effect as the film doesn’t bother to establish her as important in his life. Far too much time is wasted watching the two of them mope over correspondence that means nothing to the emotional heart of the story. Hardy’s relationship with his lifelong collaborator Littlewood (Toby Jones) suffers a similar fate, as do scattered references to the First World War.

All these extras are thrown in because that’s what the film thinks is required. For such an unconventional mind, The Man Who Knew Infinity is an incredibly conventional tribute, wrapped in the stiff grandeur of period drama. Zero chances are taken, all efforts funnelled into the production of a technically flawless, slightly soulless biopic. At least that’s the case when it strays from the two central love stories. With those in sight, everything just about clicks.

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