This movie tells the story of John Nash (according to people who know his real biography, the movie mis-tells it in some spots), the Nobel Prize-winning mathematicion whose work and theories would influence the way international economic relations are conducted in the modern world. His brilliance would not be without a price, however. Along with these abilities -- perhaps inseparable from them -- came a debilitating mental condition known as schizophrenia which would severely hinder his ability to go about his life. Where does the line between genius and madness lie?

Russel Crowe puts in an excellent performance as the off-kilter superbrain, always looking at obscure patterns, trying to derive algoritms to describe that which is random (or seemingly random). Jennifer Connelly is also great in the role of the wife who is almost too supportive to be believable. (Indeed, I found out after watching that the real Nash went through a divorce, followed by a second marriage; a fact this movie conveniently omits.)

I myself would be omitting if I did not mention that many moments in the movie struck a very personal chord with this viewer. Though manic depression (a condition I was diagnosed with several years ago) is not identical to schizophrenia, the two "diseases" (using the term loosely) are similar enough that medical practicioners in the past often confused the two, and misdiagnosed manic depressive patients as schizophrenics. It was only with advances made during the 20th century that doctors were able to identify characteristics which would distinguish one from the other.

In any case, I winced in recognition from personal experience on several of the scenes. There were also aspects which I could contrast. Most notably, outright sensory hallucinations were absent in my case. I did not see people who were not there. I merely believed them to be lurking just out of eyesight, around every corner, about to jump at any moment, while the real people who I did see would be plotting something ever more vast and ominous. I would assume that they knew what I "knew", and acted as if it were the case. John Nash saw people who were not there. Ultimately, the effect ends up being very similar either way: Everyone believes you are crazy, because you end up acting that way.

What is it about the brains of some, which cause us to embark on desperate searches for the truths of the universe, even to the point that it causes our basic perceptions of the immediate world around us to fall into chaos? Do nature's ultimate secrets hide themselves in the realm of insanity? If so, why? Could it be that the $GREAT_SOMETHING has intentionally made it that way so that anyone who discovers these secrets not only pays the price for them, but cannot reveal the essence of the knowledge to the rest of mankind, for who can reason with a crazy person?

Well, that last paragraph is actually me babbling on a tangent. It doesn't really have that much to do with the message of the movie per se, at least not directly. If anything, the movie's thesis could be interpreted as saying that society can benefit from the creations of its more wildly eccentric elements.

Since watching it, I have read several reviews which compare this movie to Pi, saying that Pi is much more "hard core" (and therefore credible) in its depiction of a mentally handicapped supergenious. There is no question that A Beautiful Mind will be (and is) more accessible to mainstream audiences. While I enjoyed Pi in all its quirky headache-inducing glory, I found a lot more to personally latch onto in A Beautiful Mind. The two movies are so wildly different in their styles, stories, and portrayals that it's kind of funny that anyone even tries to compare the two. But there I go, following the herd and trying to write my own comparison, instead of just letting it be.

In conclusion: A great movie, though I'm not sure I would go so far as to nominate it for best picture. It's up there though. Certainly a movie worth seeing. That's a wrap.