A Beautiful Mind

**1/2 out of ****

I am reviewing A Beautiful Mind on request of my wife, who believes that I complain about it so much that if I wrote a review, I could get it all out of my system and quit nagging her (it is one of her favorite movies). As I now sit down to write this review, I do not believe that I am the man for the job. It is essential for a film critic to be able to watch a film for its own merits. Because I viewed this film already aware of the life of John Nash, its subject matter, I was distracted by the fact that director Ron Howard and writer Akiva Goldsman have crafted a movie that is more or less fiction. While I admire the film’s performances and was engaged by the character created by Russell Crowe, I walked away feeling gypped by the film, because I had preconceived notions regarding the bold directions it could have gone instead of falling into the trap of cheesy Hollywood schlock. A Beautiful Mind is, alas, another entry in the Life according to Hollywood series, and it ranks among other similar films such as Patch Adams and Pay It Forward as well-acted, slickly produced, but eventually, contrived and disappointing.

For the uninitiated, John Nash is a graduate of Princeton University, where he now teaches. His work in gaming theories more or less changed mathematics forever. The most incredible aspect of his life, however, is the fact that Nash is schizophrenic, and that he was able to beat the disease by applying the same logic that he used to rethink mathematical laws. Anything else I say would give away crucial plot points and twists, so I shall leave the summary at that, but look for a spoiler warning later on in the review.

A Beautiful Mind features Russell Crowe in the title role, and his performance is, in a word, brilliant. Crowe plays Nash as first as a reclusive but witty student who skips classes in order to think of his “new and original idea.” As reality begins to crumble around him, Crowe’s movements become exaggerated and jerky, as if he is trying to logically apply his mathematical talents to what is happening around him and is constantly hitting a mental brick wall. Crowe’s timing is perfect, and it seems that every time he blinks or twitches his head, he has hit that brick wall once again.

If only the film surrounding Crowe’s Nash could have been as inspired as his performance. Unfortunately, the film breaks far away from the true story of Nash and creates its own delusions for him, even in the details not surrounding the fantasies of his imbalanced brain. The real John Nash was something of a scoundrel before his schizophrenia kicked in full throttle: He had at least one illegitimate son and evidently, he wasn’t very consistent with his child support. In addition, his fantasies involved aliens and far-off planets, and I kept expecting these illusions to occur, but they did not. Instead, the film makes up fantasies that only hint upon the true madness of Nash’s disorder. The fantasies of the film are far-fetched but realistic. Nash’s real delusions were over-the-top and improbable, and I think audiences unaware of Nash’s story would have appreciated his struggle more if the film had told the truth.

Still, if the film worked, I would have been willing to put aside my own personal biases. Unfortunately, after an engaging first half-hour in which Nash discovers his gaming theory, the movie becomes typical Hollywood syrup, and its storytelling fumbles. He meets his wife, Alicia Lard (Jennifer Connelly), and the film plays up a cheesy Hollywood romance that goes against what has been established for Nash’s character. I’d have bought the romance if the scenes were well-written, but they come across as routine and recycled from other movies. To make matters worse, Connelly and Crowe, both talented actors, have little chemistry, though that might have more to do with the script than their performances. Quite frankly, I’m never convinced that Alicia would fall for Nash because we never quite figure out what she sees in him.

Another aspect I had trouble with was the delusions themselves (read no further and skip to the next paragraph if you don’t want possibly major plot spoilers). In the early scenes, Nash’s visions seem to be aware that they are all in his head, and they act and appear as if they know that Nash’s dementia cannot be discovered. Thus, Nash only dreams up his imaginary friends and fantasies when he is by himself or in situations where they wouldn’t be noticed. As the film continues and Nash’s madness is discovered by his wife and friends, the visions appear more often, and he reacts to them in full view of his loved ones. This makes for inconsistent storytelling that is downright distracting. Why shouldn’t schizophrenic visions happen at random from the beginning of Nash’s disease, instead of conveniently only taking place when he is by himself until his madness is discovered? They pop in and out of his brain all the time after the audience has been made aware that he’s sick, but why have they been so selective before this revelation, carefully choosing to haunt Nash when he is alone? Howard and Goldman took this approach to attempt to pull the rug out from under the viewer as well as Nash, but this plot hole only makes the twist come across as lazy storytelling with no function other than to be manipulative for the sake of telling a story Hollywood-style.

Because the plot develops with this hole for most of the second act, A Beautiful Mind ceases to be engaging and begins to grow tiresome. I understand that the real Nash went several years before his disorder was uncovered, but surely a more clear description of schizophrenia could have been discussed. The truth is, Nash never told anyone about his visions of aliens because they would have seemed like madness (which is exactly what they were). Why couldn’t they have told the truth and advertised the film as a fantasy instead of having the visions inconsistent throughout? A riskier movie would have dealt with Nash’s true visions, and only revealed later that the film was based on a true story. That way, the viewer could have still had the rug pulled out from underneath them, but it would have been because of the fantasy and weirdness of Nash’s real experiences. I cannot forgive the way that the movie sidesteps the actual details of his disease to tell a story that’s all too convenient. Howard and Goldsman are two of the most talented artists working in Hollywood, and I am baffled by their decision to take A Beautiful Mind in such a poorly-constructed direction.

By the time we get to the third act, the movie takes another turn, as Nash struggles to deal with his disease and attempts to return to Princeton in order to teach and continue his research. These scenes are engaging because their focus is not on the visions but Crowe’s magnetic performance. At first, he fumbles his words and looks constantly embarrassed by what is happening to him, but as he begins to gain an edge over his visions though his mathematical logic, he subtly but notably transforms into a more confident figure. Unfortunately, the closing scenes become Hollywood-style again, with Nash giving a ridiculously uncharacteristic speech as he accepts his Nobel Prize. The final moments leave us with a bad taste in our mouths, as we are reminded that for all of its good performances, A Beautiful Mind is still Hollywood reinventing truth for the sake of corny sentiment.

In the end, I admired Russell Crowe’s performance and most of the movie’s first and third acts. The second act, because of its inconsistencies and contrived storytelling, is an awful mess, and it damages the film for me. I recommend that viewers who can tell the difference between syrup and true sentiment to watch it for Crowe’s performance. I would direct others to stirring biographies such as Spike Lee’s Malcolm X and Martin Scorsese’s Kundun to see true stories of fascinating people done well.

Cast:
Russell Crowe: John Nash
Ed Harris: William Parcher
Jennifer Connelly: Alicia Larde Nash
Christopher Plummer: Dr. Rosen
Paul Bettany: Charles Herman

Universal Pictures presents a Dreamworks Pictures release. Directed by Ron Howard. Written by Akiva Goldsman, based on the book by Sylvia Nasar. Rated PG-13 for language and a few intense scenes. Running time: 135 minutes. Original United States theatrical release: December 13, 2001 (premiere).