Beyond Enigma: the Turing paradox

History celebrates grand victories and groundbreaking achievements. Statues are built, books are written, and names are etched in stone. Yet, woven into this tapestry of triumph lies a darker thread: the persistent stain of social prejudice.

The movie The Imitation Game isn’t your typical war drama. It weaves the real-life story of Alan Turing, a mathematical genius who helped crack the seemingly unbreakable Enigma code used by the Nazis during World War II. With a powerful exploration of his ostracized identity as a gay man in a time of rigid social norms, the movie paints the wretched portrait of a genius condemned by the very society he helped to defend.

While the filmmakers have taken a few creative liberties and oversimplified certain events of the war, the movie has always been about a person living in an imitation game, trying to imitate something he was not to fit in. It was about the man who saved millions of lives but ended up taking his own. Benedict Cumberbatch's captivating performance as Alan Turing doesn't simply tell a story; it yanks the audience into Turing's world. We witness his brilliance firsthand, his social awkwardness with a palpable cringe, and, most importantly, the crushing weight of societal prejudice.

The film masterfully portrays his unwavering conviction during his time at Bletchley. Turing's confidence wasn't just about his machine; it was about the power of logic and the potential of a new approach. His story serves as a reminder that sometimes, the greatest breakthroughs come from those who dare to think differently. But the pages of history are littered with tragedies of those who were brave enough to think differently. For every revolutionary mind celebrated, there's another ostracized, their brilliance deemed madness by a world clinging to established norms. Turing, unfortunately, falls in the second category. The man who helped reduce the war by more than two years and save over fourteen million lives, was stripped of his dignity because he didn't conform to the societal norms of the time.

The cinematography, with a stark shift in the colour palette after the war, is particularly poignant. I believe that the colour choices in The Imitation Game are not accidental but a deliberate tool used by the filmmakers to create a powerful visual narrative. Wartime scenes are awash in cool blues and greys, evoking the seriousness and urgency of Bletchley Park. Turing himself seems almost machine-like in this environment, which is only amplified by his focussed demeanour. But after the war, the palette shifts to muted browns and pastels. These softer tones paint a picture of human vulnerability. Turing is no longer a wartime hero; he's a human facing a bleak reality, and the colours underscore his fear of being alone.

In one powerful shot, Turing, sitting alone at home, gazes at his creation, his eyes filled with a profound sadness. The contrast between the bustling Bletchley Park and this solitary confinement hangs heavy in the air. Though not rooted in reality, this scene uses visuals to evoke a deeper emotional response. This single image encapsulates the tragedy of his situation – the ostracized genius, robbed of his passion and surrounded by the physical manifestation of his brilliance, yet utterly alone in its cold embrace.

The film's title concept, exploring a machine's ability to think like a human, takes on a deeper meaning when mirrored against Alan Turing's life. Society deemed his true self unacceptable, much like a machine failing the Turing test, originally called the “imitation game”. By drawing parallels between his internal conflict with this philosophical concept, the film amplifies the tragedy of his persecution. He wasn't just punished for an act; he was punished for being different, for failing society's cruel "imitation game".

Matthew Goode, who plays Turing’s colleague, Hugh Alexander in the film, stated in an interview that the film focuses on “Turing's life and how, as a nation, we celebrated him as being a hero by chemically castrating him because he was gay…”.

The Imitation Game goes beyond a biopic. It becomes a harrowing exploration of the pressure to conform and the enduring quest for authenticity in a world that often demands imitation. It compels us to not just celebrate Turing’s achievements, but to reflect on the cost of societal bias. The film asks us a crucial question: are we creating an environment where innovative minds can flourish, or are we silencing the very voices that hold the key to a brighter future? Because sometimes, it is the people that no one imagines anything of, who do the things no one can imagine. It took a man with secrets to break the biggest one. Turing’s work inspired generations of research into what scientists called “Turing Machines”. Today, they have evolved into computers.

It was not until 2009 that UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown made an official apology to the Turing family and the LGBT community for the British government's appalling treatment of Turing. In 2013, Queen Elizabeth II granted Turing a posthumous pardon.

The movie The Imitation Game is based on the book Alan Turing: The Enigma, the biography of Alan Turing by Andrew Hodges.

Sources:https://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/article/matthew-goode-interview-2013-hogan-campaign