Cast: Helena Bonham Carter, Kenneth Branagh
Director: Peter Greengrass
Producers: Ruth Caleb, Anant Singh, Helena Spring, David Thompson
Screenplay: Richard Hawkins
Cinematography: Ivan Strasburg
Music: Rolfe Kent, Stephen Warbeck
U.S. Distributor: Fine Line Features
Symbolism in a movie is often a nice thing. It can add to the richness of a dramatic tapestry and lead to a more pleasing emotional experience. If overused, however, it has the potential to become distracting. Subtlety, more than any other quality, is required when dealing with symbolism. In The Theory of Flight, Paul Greengrass' directorial debut, "flight" is not only a symbol, but an obvious and unwieldy one. In fact, it's so awkward that it dilutes the effectiveness of the central narrative, an offbeat romance between an mentally unbalanced man and a physically disabled woman.
Richard (Kenneth Branagh), a thirty-something individual who doesn't really want to grow up, is obsessed with building his own flying machine (apparently, either he doesn't adhere to the cliché about not re-inventing the wheel, or is unaware that the Wright Brothers already did this). After breaking the law by taking a airborne journey off the roof of a London high rise, he is sentenced to 120 hours of community service. His "project" is to be a companion to Jane (Helena Bonham Carter), a young woman afflicted with Motor Neuron Disease/Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease). The two don't get along at first, but, after a while, they become friends. Only then does Jane confess to Richard that she doesn't want to die a virgin. Thus begins his quest to find a suitable sexual partner for her -- a search that eventually gives him a whole new perspective on life and love.
When The Theory of Flight concentrates on the Richard/Jane relationship, it's in good shape. Greengrass effectively combines pathos and sentiment with some wildly offbeat comedy. The two characters are interesting, especially when they're with each other, and their interaction is credible. Jane is acerbic and Richard is antisocial, but it's almost impossible not to like them. However, on those occasions when the film veers off into the subplot about Richard's eccentric hobby, it runs into trouble. Not only of this aspect of the movie ill-conceived, but it's not well-developed. As Jane's caretaker, Richard is a worthwhile character. As an inventor, he's pointless.
Nevertheless, since The Theory of Flight is primarily about the Richard/Jane relationship, it's often possible to ignore Richard's attempts to replicate the Wright Brothers' feat. Perhaps the most unexpected thing about this movie (considering, after all, that it is about a woman suffering from a terminal disease) is its occasional forays into over-the-top comedy. Many of these instances are centered on Richard's attempts to purchase the services of a gigolo to fulfill Jane's desire, and, for the most part, they are genuinely funny (despite the underlying sense of sadness).
As Jane, Helena Bonham Carter delivers a solid performance. Confined to a wheelchair and with slurred speech, the actress is believable as the crippled ALS victim. However, while portrayals of physically and mentally challenged individuals are often fertile ground for Oscar nominations, Bonham Carter does not do one of the five best female acting jobs of the year. Nevertheless, she imbues Jane with equal parts resilience and vulnerability, enabling viewers to honestly care about what happens to the character. Meanwhile, Kenneth Branagh has a more difficult task, since, outside of his interaction with Jane, Richard is not well-defined. We realize that he is lonely and searching for some meaning in his life, but his need to fly seems too much like a convenient plot contrivance. Like Bonham Carter, Branagh does a good job making his character real and likable. Together, the two, who are an off-screen couple, have a definite chemistry. Despite their obvious personality differences, Richard and Jane seem comfortable together.
The core premise of The Theory of Flight -- an able-bodied individual caring for and bonding with a sick person -- is a standard motion picture plot, but Greengrass' approach of stirring comedy into the mix makes for a refreshingly different experience. One could almost see this movie as a romantic comedy, albeit of a very unconventional sort (in that way, it shares traits with 1997's Hugo Pool). The Theory of Flight is far from a perfect movie, but it offers enough highlights that, on balance, it's worth a recommendation. The solid acting camouflages a great many other deficiencies.
© 1998 James Berardinelli