The Imitation Game: a film that’s as much in the closet as Alan Turing was

The Imitation Game is a biopic starring Benedict Cumberbatch as Alan Turing, the brilliant mathematician who broke the German’s Enigma code during the war, created the blueprint for the modern computer and was then hounded to death by the authorities for being gay, the bastards. It’s a fascinating story, as well as one of those stories that needs to be told, over and over if necessary, but I just wish it had been told here with a little more guts and flair. This is solid, sturdy and offers a few great moments. But it is rather formulaic, and as much in the closet as Turing ever was. Still, a decent if conventional Troubled Genius Film has to be worth any number of Interstellars, which, according to some readers (of the male variety) commenting online, I failed to find the most fulfilling experience of my life because I was ‘on the rag’. Oh, yes. That explains that then. Silly, silly me.

This is directed by Morten Tyldum, the Norwegian otherwise known for the excellent thriller Headhunters. And it is divided into three time zones: 1952, when Turing is arrested for gross indecency and is being questioned by a policeman (Rory Kinnear); the war years, when he is working at Bletchley Park under Commander Denniston (Charles Dance, who actually bothers to slightly act, for a change, and not just do Charles Dance); and as a bullied, unhappy schoolboy with only the one friend, Christopher, to whom he passes notes that are coded in more ways than one. At this point, and before the thought gets away, I would like it noted that Alex Lawther, who plays Turing as a boy, is absolutely outstanding, and his scenes are among the most moving in the film.

But the spine of it, the meat, all happens at Bletchley Park where, in his first interview, Turing convinces Denniston he needs him more than he needs Bletchley, and basically runs circles round him.