It takes an act of raw courage to base a story on a mathematical problem dating back to the 1740s, so directors Luis Piedrahita and Rodrigo Sopeña gain some credit even before the merits of their film are considered. In addition to being a brave decision, it’s also a baffling one. For though the plot is ostensibly centred on mathematics, you’ll walk away thinking that what they were actually trying to do was a version of An Inspector Calls with a few numbers thrown in.
Not that you can escape the maths. Our protagonists are Spain’s finest mathematicians, whose paths ultimately cross when they receive an invitation to attend an exclusive gathering organised by the elusive ‘Fermat’. The introduction of this unusual premise is handled well, and though the characters are fairly formulaic they’re framed sufficiently irreverently in opening to forgive them that and enjoy the fun. Of particular note is the rock star like adulation heaped on “Galois”, which appears to be particularly well deserved given that he has solved Goldbach’s conjecture. “Hilbert” also stands out, if only because he must surely spend his summers working as a professional Sir Laurence Olivier lookalike on cruise ships.
If it isn’t apparent by these early stages that you’ll need a large pinch of salt to get through the rest of the film, it will be when the boffins converge on Fermat’s Room. What then ensues is a series of mathematical ‘enigmas’ sent into the locked room via a mobile phone by the mysterious “Fermat”, with delayed or incorrect answers leading to the room contracting in on itself. This very quickly beds down into an utterly conventional murder (or, rather, maths) mystery rather than the kind of RAND Corporation training exercise you’d think such a scheme might entail. It also means that it will feel familiar to anyone who has watched an episode of Columbo. In fact, if you’ve seen the Mind Over Mayhem episode you’ll practically feel at home. It’s a shame really, as this fails to utilise what could have been a fairly unconventional and engaging plot device.
It also means that the characters suddenly seem utterly out of place, as though they’re the only ones who turned up to the party in fancy dress. You get a sense that even Piedrahita and Sopeña got bored of the maths, as the ‘enigmas’ recede into the background to make way for a run-of-the-mill whodunit. However, the failure to properly anchor the characters to plot removes any real sense of revelation and each new discovery tends to lessen rather heighten the suspense. Be sure to watch out for “Pascal” brake pedal story for a prime, and superbly hilarious, example.
Having said that, Fermat’s Room never outstays its welcome. Aside from the disconnect that emerges between the characters and the plot, the cast is sufficiently enjoyable and skilled, and present what they’re given with a earnestness that cannot fail but endear. In particular, the emergence of “Pascal” in the second half of the film provides a likeable cynic of a companion. As a self-declared “practical” mathematician he is as baffled as the viewer by overall scenario, and through him perhaps Piedrahita and Sopeña were signalling that we shouldn’t take it too seriously. Go into it expecting a well-executed mathematical pantomime, and you’ll not be too disappointed.