Genius (2017)

For nongeniuses, this joyful-to-watch series will answer every question you never had about space and time relativity.

Judging from the first two episodes, this is a skillfully acted, richly detailed historical show that would not be out of place on PBS or a high-end pay-cable outlet.

Aptly named, Genius is kinetic.

Worth watching? Oh yeah, particularly for the genius of Rush and Flynn. Despite the inconsistent nature of the dialogue, the series obviously has much to recommend it. It's superior, if not superlative.

Rush and Flynn sound and even move similarly enough to link their performances as different stages in the life of one man. Their complementary performances buoy the first hour of the series, which otherwise adheres a little too closely to the curriculum.

The show is most compelling when it tackles its "present," the period during Hitler's rise to power, as the politically rebellious scientist (Geoffrey Rush) grapples with rising anti-Semitism and its effect on his future. [28 Apr/5 May 2017, p.100]

It feels like the producers didn’t trust that we would pay attention to Genius without some blood and nudity thrown in. But we would, actually, thanks to the stellar performances from Rush and Flynn. Both actors combine to bring a legendary genius vividly to life in a way that we’ve never seen on screen before.

Genius is, overall, handsome and reasonably compelling, but it doesn’t necessarily grab the viewer in a way that makes one anxious to immediately see episode three.

Genius doesn't stray far from the conventional, but the Marić-centric second episode hints at long-form storytelling can do for the genre. That, plus the leads, is more than enough to earn Genius not a full-on rave, but a relatively strong review.

Genius is most compelling as the origins of a man who would achieve greatness, rather than an attempt to wedge that greatness into an otherwise-normal young adulthood.

The warming to the characters of young Einstein's universe is slow, yet once he meets and falls in love with fellow physics student Mileva Maric (Samantha Colley) during his time at Zürich Polytechnic in Switzerland, intrigue begins to mount.

Having only seen these two hours, it’s hard to know how the series will proceed, though it is much more promising after the second installment. The series is at its best, rather ironically, when it’s not dealing with time (or jumping through it) and focuses on smaller, human moments rather than broad strokes from history.

[Ron Howard's] segment is an ungraceful arrangement of exposition and too-convenient characterizations. This becomes even more obvious when we reach episode 2, directed by British TV vet Minkie Spiro, which spends most of its time on the young Einstein and his first wife and co-genius Mileva Maric (Samantha Colley), turning her into an enthralling heroine and their relationship into something moving and fierce.

Genius may not entirely avoid the hokey pitfalls of the biopic genre, but it makes you feel smart for watching. [17-30 Apr 2017, p.19]

Based on a sampling of Genius it's difficult to recommend sticking around to the end for an idea that, alas, probably looked better scribbled on a chalkboard.

The series’ first [season] is merely serviceable.

Episodes one and two jump around to a few different periods in the Nobel Prize winner’s life, but in the early going, Genius quite doesn’t land on the most interesting time frames, or find consistently thoughtful ways to illuminate the eras it does explore.

The bifurcated structure sometimes works against the otherwise effective dramatic vision of the series. Just when you are getting into something young Albert is doing, you’re catapulted back to old Albert. That said, the performances are winning.

I mostly blame the writers, who resort to cliches and shallow psychologizing to create the illusion of depth in their characters. Even our heroine at times feels only like the sum of her daddy issues.