“Radioactive”, a thoughtful and highly observable fictional portrait of Marie Curie, tries to push the halo off its subject. Given her efforts and praise, including two Nobel laureates, this simple and humanizing effort is difficult but it also feels necessary. Curie, one of the most famous scientists of the 20th century, has long been hailed as a pioneer and is the only woman to win a Nobel twice, having shared the prize for physics in 1903. Eight years later, she won for chemistry. , defying a scandal to collect his prize and remind the world that he deserved a claim in history.
“Radioactive” gives Curie its due date while complicating her legacy. She and her husband, Pierre, discovered polonium and radio (the word radioactivity was coined), work that led to medical advances and the atomic bomb. For his Nobel lecture, Pierre Curie alluded to the ominous importance of his findings, asking “if humanity benefits from knowing the secrets of Nature, if it is ready to benefit from it or if this knowledge will not be detrimental to it”. (The antediluvian Nobel speaker at the ceremony referred to Marie as a relief meeting, quoting Genesis.)
“Radioactive” takes a while to find its rhythm. It opens with Marie, Rosamund Pike, wearing sunglasses and under a lot of wrinkles, collapsing and being taken to a hospital. The mists of time clear up quickly and Marie is soon in Paris in 1893, where she runs into the flirtatious Pierre (Sam Riley), who marvels that he is reading about microbiology. It’s a cute forced encounter, but director Marjane Satrapi has more than romance in mind, and you’ll soon be running with Marie to deal with some gray beards from the Sorbonne. This rapid pace continues largely throughout the rest of the film as Marie rushes through time, making history, trouble, and babies.
Satrapi spends too much time in unnecessary places and thematic telegraphy: “I will find my own way,” Marie declares before burying her head in a book, the Eiffel Tower beautifully framed in a window. Most productive and illustrative of Satrapi’s strengths is a quick-montage sequence that juxtaposes images of male colleagues shaking their heads at Marie (men, they don’t like it) with images of Loïe Fuller (Drew Jacoby) spinning on stage (she was like). A fascinating figure, Fuller created a popular dance called Serpentine that she performed on a dark stage while wearing a flowing white suit illuminated by changing deep-colored lights.
In real life, Fuller socialized with the Curies and apparently asked for a little radio for a costume (they said no). A contemporary observer likened Fuller to “a ray of life,” a metaphor echoed in one of Marie Curie’s descriptions of her late-night visits to her laboratory. “We were able to see her slightly luminous silhouettes,” she wrote of her discoveries, “and these flashes, which seemed suspended in the dark, moved us with new emotions and enchantments.” Together, Fuller (with its rotations and nuances) and Marie (with their seductive and dangerous luminescences) create a complicated and contradictory emblem of women in the new era.
With a script by Jack Thorne, “Radioactive” reviews Curie’s milestones and, according to the usual biography, overlooks the facts, looks for humor and pie: Pike’s astringency complements Satrapi’s generally unsentimental portrayal and It means being so progressive that you are out of tune with your world. There is little about Marie’s childhood, for example, but you have an idea of her steel and her priorities by the way she vigorously ignores gossip and cares coldly for her daughters. The oldest, Irène (played as an adult by Anya Taylor-Joy), would eventually follow her parents to the laboratory, then share a Nobel with her husband for their work with radioactive elements.
I wish Satrapi had been bolder released with his mind-blowing colors and visions. “Radioactive” is more provocative and satisfying than the average wax maker, but Satrapi’s visual strategies also point to an even more adventurous film than it could have been. Still, it draws you in and sometimes hits you sideways, especially with scenes illustrating the terrors that led to Curie’s discoveries, a reminder that it’s not just one life but many. Directly effective and dialectical, these interludes reinforce one of the film’s stirrups: science is invariably political and, in the right hands, can be a force for good and, in evil, a weapon of evil.
Radioactive
Rated PG-13 for violence, including devastation from the atomic bomb. Duration: 1 hour 49 minutes. Check it out on Amazon.
