Framing story: Alan Turing is detained for man-on-man naughtiness in 1951, and shares with investigating copper details about his wartime researches that, in real life, would have got him a considerably harsher punishment than the (to be sure atrocious) "chemical castration" he as obliged to endure in lieu of two years imprisonment. Main story, and the best part of the film, A.T.'s time at Bletchley Park, creating the "bombe" that broke the German Enigma code (as depicted in the film, the key—spoiler warning—is that the patriotic Nazi Enigma operators routinely end their transmissions with "Heil Hitler." How dreadful for the Germans that during all those years they had not a single cryptographer of their own canny enough to identify this as an operational vulnerability!). The contributions of sundry others are elided in the interests of drama. There are a couple of brief scenes in which U-boat wolfpacks are depicted underwater in implausibly tight formation (like, ten meters apart) as they close in on British-bound convoys. Sundry other offenses against history (including someone, possibly Turing, referring to his magical device as a "digital computer." I'm pretty sure it was electromechanical: doesn't the unsung Konrad Zuse, who worked for the other side, have the laurels for the first such apparatus?
For all those reservations, it was a largely satisfying two hours in the theatre. I particularly enjoyed Charles Dance as a starchy, skeptical overseer to Turing's eccentric prodigy, and regretted it when he dropped out of the story halfway through. Bumadick Cummerbund was certainly credible portraying what we would today call a high-functioning Asberger's type, although from what I read he should probably talk to his agent about the dangers of typecasting. For those not particularly allergic to obvious simplifications of and outright trespasses against historical truth in the service of popular entertainment, the flick is worth a look.
cordially,
(No regrets about the expenditure of these matinee dollars, and I'm particular pleased to learn that the local "art house" chain now recognizes me as a "senior citizen," and admits me to prime-time screenings for about 75% what they charge L's nephew, thirty years my junior and way back of my tax bracket. Then again, he's probably a "taker," one of Mitt's 47%, so fuck 'im.)
For all those reservations, it was a largely satisfying two hours in the theatre. I particularly enjoyed Charles Dance as a starchy, skeptical overseer to Turing's eccentric prodigy, and regretted it when he dropped out of the story halfway through. Bumadick Cummerbund was certainly credible portraying what we would today call a high-functioning Asberger's type, although from what I read he should probably talk to his agent about the dangers of typecasting. For those not particularly allergic to obvious simplifications of and outright trespasses against historical truth in the service of popular entertainment, the flick is worth a look.
cordially,
(No regrets about the expenditure of these matinee dollars, and I'm particular pleased to learn that the local "art house" chain now recognizes me as a "senior citizen," and admits me to prime-time screenings for about 75% what they charge L's nephew, thirty years my junior and way back of my tax bracket. Then again, he's probably a "taker," one of Mitt's 47%, so fuck 'im.)