The Theory of Everything

It's all slavishly conformed into a woefully predictable formula, as inflexible as the Meet Cute Rom-Com or the Superhero Epic, every scene less about capturing a moment from a life than about completing a checklist.

The Theory of Everything may not tear a rip in the cinematic space-time continuum, but as an intimate drama about two people struggling with a life they never expected, it has real power.

Watching him [Eddie Redmayne] slumped in an electric wheelchair, simulating the effects of Hawking's motor neurone disease, it's easy to forget you're looking at an actor.

Pleasing to watch... but [leaves] little lasting impression.

There's a mischievous quality to Redmayne that seems a good match with the wit Hawking has always managed to convey with a raised eyebrow and a mechanically-voiced quip.

If the film unfolds like a fairytale, at least it's a fairytale that doesn't often get told.

While very well-intentioned to focus on the man over the persona, it feels skewed and short on glitz representative of someone larger-than-life such as Stephen Hawking.

There is still a good story to be found in “The Theory of Everything” despite its standard biopic flavor and rushed ending.

Redmayne's physical performance astounds, and Jones makes a wonderfully empathetic female lead. If only their performances were part of a better treatment of this worthy subject.

A standard biopic - there's loads of shots of Hawking furiously scribbling mathematical symbols on a chalkboard for instance - but Jones and Redmayne give this study of a scientific mind something special - heart.