Narrator, intelligence, mind

Rating: Null/10 (9 March 2015)

I haven't had much time for movies lately, being caught in tumultuous events in Greece and all they show about a broader game and narrative. I've had less time to write about them because I try not to write reviews about whether you should rent something or not. No one should care, least of all you.
I'm primarily interested in a perception of how things come to be, the relationship between viewer and image, the mechanics of captivation of that viewer, the nature and role played in this by intuition, perception in general. And a key insight is that things must inspire their truth the way love inspires poetry and truth must be deeply felt otherwise we're only putting words together.
This, it does not inspire me, it is not deeply felt in ways I'm attuned to (though it has deep feeling). It arrives at its tender insights with the canned sobriety of Oscar type films, indeed it is better than several winners of late, Argo and King's Speech come to mind, and this is almost entirely because its narrative gears align (and that Cumberbatch is great) and this is what I'd like to point out.
So it begins with a narrator who capriciously muses that he's going to be in control of a narrative we're going to see and we'll have the responsibility of deciphering sense. Something has been stolen from him as the film begins, something he has kept secret for long that suspicious policemen set out to investigate. The spy narrative that follows is about the same man having to wrestle control of a narrative and decipher its sense; German communications during WWII.
So when we get to the end and gears align during an interview (which incidentally is designed to align with the Turing Test) we get to note that what was stolen from him, after contributing spectacular work for the salvation of humanity (from Nazi peril), was nothing short of full expression of his work, his sexuality, his freedom. We also get to note a completely unevolved social machine that mangles difference in its cogs, the child prodigy in public school and the homosexual man in public office alike.
We see how the the larger narrative is driven by illogical instinct - it's the same instinct that drives boys at school to force him under the floor, nations to senseless war and to laws that repress.
And with a little discerning on our part, how it's this illogicality when it takes tangible shape around us that allows us to perfect notions and narratives, devise solutions - the ENIGMA work only possible because of rival German machines designed to confound sense, antiwar sentiment because of horrible war, acceptance because of senseless repression.
And we see how the breaking of the German cipher was only possible because of human illogicality in the gears of the machine (sloppy operators, laziness of habit). And deeper yet how this illogicality extends to a game of flirting in the local pub that completely mystifies Turing; humor, love, poetry, emotion, all no less illogical than war.
So as a biopic this is probably okay, though I question the decision to end it with a despondent Turing and a suicide. But I miss the more interesting kind of insight about a mind that tries to balance in a world where any attempt to force a clean narrative and logic only prevents us from skiing on the turbulence that lets us go places. This is too clean.