As a depiction of Alan Turing's life, The Imitation Game is just that: an imitation, and a pale one at that.
(Spoiler alert, or as much of a spoiler alert as you can give a film about a public figure with a well-documented personal history.)
After being arrested and tried for committing homosexual acts—a crime in 1950s Britain—the pioneering computer scientist Alan Turing (Benedict Cumberbatch) undergoes court-mandated hormone therapy to "cure" him of his homosexuality. Visited by his former friend and fiancée Joan Clarke (Keira Knightley), Turing confesses he chose the therapy that made him incredibly ill over going to prison so he could continue working on his computer, Christopher (named for his childhood love). He realizes she's getting married, and laments he wasn't "normal" enough for her. Her reply:
This morning I took a train through a city that would not exist if it wasn't for you. I bought a ticket from a man who would likely be dead if it wasn't for you. I read up on my work, a whole field of scientific inquiry that only exists because of you. If you wish you could have been 'normal,' I can promise you, I do not. The world is an infinitely better place precisely because you weren't.
She leaves, and he finds solace with his computer—the computer that wasn't actually named Christopher. And then, the audience is told by subtitles, Turing dies off-screen. Suicide by cyanide apple poisoning.
It's a jarring juxtaposition: Joan's final monologue is clearly meant to leave the audience with a message of hope, only to immediately undercut it with a punch to the gut. It's the main problem that plagues The Imitation Game, a finely crafted film boasting strong performances that, for some reason, is determined to find a happy ending where none exists.