Every biopic seems to fall prey to some intrinsic flaw which dooms it to failure and The Man Who Knew Infinity is no exception. Perhaps it is that every man's life is so complex and multifaceted that the necessary simplification and abbreviation to fit within the scope of a motion picture inevitably invites crassness and phoniness. Yes this film is bad, and cringingly so. Characters are two-dimensional, themes are hackneyed, and sentimentality is rife. There is scarcely a fresh or original moment in it, only a a dire and inevitable predictability to the story. 99.999% of us, the audience, know far too little of mathematics to appreciate the importance of the hero's work. There is just no excitement there to lift the story. Actors Dev Patel, Jeremy Irons and their colleagues extract as much as possible from the material, and the cinematography is fine, otherwise, what can you say? It's well intentioned, except for the patronizing treatment of Indians, but sinks under its many failings.