Introduction: Why maths keeps making movie magic
Colm O’Regan isn’t the only one who thinks maths has a knack for drama. The movies keep returning to numbers, equations, and the quiet intensity of late-night problem solving because mathematics is a universal language of tension, obsession, and revelation. This isn’t merely a trope; it’s a storytelling engine. When a character stares at a blackboard filled with symbols, we lean in because we sense a story unfolding about focus, risk, and the possibility of breakthrough.
The familiar toolbox: blackboards, obsessions, and the page-turn moment
Colm highlights the enduring tropes: Greek symbols that signal complexity, a single jagged obsession that drives a character to the obscurity of a dusty reference book, and, yes, a hot collaborator who seems to ‘get them.’ The blackboard becomes cinema’s signature prop: a visual invitation to witness thinking in action. It’s not just chalk and dust; it’s a signal that a mind is pushing toward something uncertain, something primal about human curiosity.
Notable films and the math they celebrate
Among the films that illuminate real mathematics in the public eye, Hidden Figures stands out for portraying the essential contributions of Katherine Johnson, Dorothy Vaughan, and Mary Jackson to space exploration. Their work on trajectories, calculations, and problem solving is deeply mathematical, and the film uses the blackboard to anchor that reality—often with a moment where ladder access becomes a literal climb toward discovery.
Pi, Darren Aronofsky’s fever dream, pushes mathematics into the realm of paranoia and pursuit. The protagonist’s search for a 216-digit number threads through financial markets, mysticism, and personal risk. It’s cinema as a psychological math problem—a portrait of how numbers can feel like a potential danger and a lifeline at once.
Other maths-centered stories celebrate the drama of discovery: Évariste Galois, a 19th-century French mathematician who churned out profound theory on polynomials and met a dramatic end, and Sophie Germain, who pursued advanced mathematics while navigating the gender barriers of her era. These figures remind us that mathematical breakthroughs aren’t just cold abstractions; they’re tied to human courage, sacrifice, and the stubborn insistence that ideas deserve to be heard.
What Colm sees as the learning opportunity
Beyond the spectacle, Colm argues there’s a rich vein of storytelling in maths that schools often overlook. Students may dread exams and past papers, but there’s value in the human stories behind the formulas. The history of a theorem, the life of a mathematician who faced barriers, and the practical triumphs that solved real-world problems—all these can light a child’s curiosity much more effectively than a sterile summary of steps.
From myths to genuine math culture
There’s a tradition of cinema treating mathematicians as obsessive geniuses, sometimes bordering on “madness.” The trope persists because it resonates with a fundamental truth about deep work: long nights, a certain stubbornness, and a willingness to risk everything for a idea that might not pan out. Yet the more nuanced films and biographies reveal something warmer: collaboration, mentorship, and the quiet joy of solving a problem that matters.
Colm also touches on quirky bits of cinema lore, like debates about the realism of on-screen math or the occasional surprisingly accurate moment in a movie’s portrayal of a professor’s chalkboard. These details matter because they shape how audiences understand maths in everyday life. When a screenwriter gets the physics right—or at least respects the logic of a problem—the barrier between fiction and reality softens, inviting non-experts to explore questions of pattern, structure, and proof.
Conclusion: there are stories worth telling beyond BOMDAS
As Colm notes with warm hospitality toward the subject, there are countless stories in maths waiting to be told—stories of resilience, discovery, and quiet genius that deserve a bigger screenspace than the familiar BOMDAS shorthand. The world of cinema can be a powerful ally in helping students connect with maths as a living, human pursuit rather than a departmental prerequisite. After all, some of the most dramatic math happens off the page and on the human plane—the moment of insight when a problem suddenly explains itself, or when a life’s work finally meets its audience.
