This biopic of Indian maths genius Srinivasa Ramanujan does not go to infinity – or beyond. It features some exceedingly good British actors, but the script gives us a version of his life that feels like it’s from the Marks and Spencer advert. Which is a shame, because it’s an extraordinary story.
We meet Ramanujan (Dev Patel) in 1914, working as a bookkeeper in Tamil Nadu (his brain is quicker than the abacus). Self-taught, he writes to a professor (Jeremy Irons) at Trinity College, Cambridge, who recognises his talent and invites him to the UK where he’s met with horrible, ugly racism everywhere – sneery old dons deliberately mispronouncing his name and brainless thugs beating him up. This is polite and earnest, but never quite adds up to much.