Other directors could have made “Oppenheimer.” J. Robert Oppenheimer is a pivotal figure, not just in science, but in modern history as we know it. He's already been the subject of many different biographies, a BBC serial, a play, and a few previous films. This is the kind of respectable topic that you'd expect any number of stately, award season-friendly biopics could be made about. Other directors could have made “Oppenheimer” but only Christopher Nolan could have made it a blockbuster. Nolan is one of the few directors you can sell a movie on and Universal knew it, selling the hell out of the film to general audience. When paired by the buzz generated by the “Barbenheimer” meme, a serious, R-rated drama about the niche topics of history and nuclear physics ended up becoming one of the highest grossing films of 2023. It might also be one of the highly lauded films of Nolan's frequently praised work.
In 1954, J. Robert Oppenheimer is interviewed by a security hearing for his possible communist connections and for rumors he might've been linked to a Russian spy that reported on the Trinity program. He recounts his professional career, beginning his studies at Cambridge and how a meeting with Niels Bohr encouraged him to study theoretical physics. He's questioned about his relationship with known communist Jean Tatlock and how he met his wife, Kitty. Eventually, after becoming the head of the physics department at Berkeley, he's recruited to help create a nuclear bomb for the U.S. military. The further away from these events Oppenheimer grows, the more he comes to regret his actions. Meanwhile, in 1959, Lewis Strauss gives his opinion on Oppenheimer to the Senate while awaiting confirmation in the president's cabinet.
Christopher Nolan would first come to most people's attention thanks to “Memento,” a movie that gained praise for its non-linear story structure. Timelines that leap around have continued to become a lauded part of Nolan's future film, in the flashback heavy structures of “The Prestige” or “Inception's” multi-layered narrative. Yet it feels like it's been a while since a Nolan movie has gone back-and-forth like that. “Oppenheimer” does something very similar to “Memento,” in the way it follows two separate timelines that are differentiate by one being in black-and-white. That Oppenheimer telling his story to the security hearing also triggers extensive flashbacks, that make up the bulk of the movie's runtime, is another example of Nolan's favorite storytelling trick. This structure resembles the way memory works while also creating of chances for narrative ironies.
Ironically, as much as “Oppenheimer” is a movie about one event triggering another, it zeroes in on J. Robert Oppenheimer's greatest flaw (at least in this telling): His inability to see the consequences of his action, to perceive what might follow from the events he triggers. He womanizes, juggling Jean and Kitty without guessing that this might effect both women negatively. He's well aware that his communism connections will be scrutinized by the government. Yet he doesn't report it when a colleague suggests sharing information with the Russians. Of course, the biggest example of this is the bomb itself. Afterwards, he feels remorse and regrets for all his mistakes, breaking down or wringing his hands about it. However, that's only after the fact. Oppie says early on that he's not great at the math side of physics, seeming to represent his inability to predict the fallout of his own actions in every corner of his life.
Of course, it's not like Oppenheimer was alone in his tendency to disconnect his actions from his consequences. When the film was first released, there was an exhausting round of Discourse about the film not showing the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Some where offended that a movie about the mass death of thousands of Japanese people centered on a white guy feeling bad about it. This seems to overlooked a key scene. When deciding what cities to drop the nuclear bombs on, Secretary of War William L. Stimson rules out Kyoto partially because he honeymooned there with his wife. It's such a callous, telling line. An American has been to this place and therefore disqualifies it from annihilation. The rest of Japan is fine to be destroyed though, in his eyes. Not showing the bombing just further illustrates Oppenheimer's disconnect from his own actions and what happens because of them.
No matter how much “Oppenheimer” resembles Nolan's previous movies, you can feel him attempting to stretch himself too. Another similarity with “Memento” is, much the same that film primarily took place in Leonard Shelby's mind, everything in the “Fusion” timeline is told from J. Robert Oppenheimer's perspective. (To the point that the screenplay was written in the first person.) Setting this story in Oppenheimer's own memories allows Nolan to indulge in a kind of visual symbolism that isn't typical of him. It's not exactly subtle. When recounting his sex life to the security hearing, Robert imagines himself naked before them. At the same time, he feels responsibility for Jean's death, her body weighing down on his chest. After reluctantly trying to celebrate the bomb successfully falling, he steps in a pile of ash. This visualizes him realizing just what he's unleashed. Think of this as Film Theory 101 for the kind of Reddit Bros that venerate Nolan as one of the greats. That's not wrong. Yet it is interesting to see the director blend some of his past styles into something new for him.
Maybe the movie's visual signifiers arise out of its desire to make the invisible world Oppenheimer observes visible. This is evident through a number of visual effects shots, of strings of atoms and molecules, of stars burning out in space. Moments like this is when “Oppenheimer,” to me, feels like its really pushing towards something bigger. The film is not made for physicists and I'm absolutely not one either. Yet the steps Nolan and his team took to illustrate the scientific concepts beyond our physical world impresses me. You also see this in the thundering sound design, that piles on otherworldly bursts of noise and corresponding walls of silence to further show us the strength of these unseen forces on our world.
At the center of the film is a career-best performance from Cillian Murphy. Murphy's deep blue eyes convey so much emotion, most painful during the scenes where he's barely holding himself together under the consideration pressure of what he's done. Such as when he's grappling with Jean's suicide or the consequences of the bomb. It's amazing how much Murphy can tells with just a look or the angle of his face. He carries the entire movie on his shoulders, making even the most melodramatic dialogue – such as the final line – come off as mythic and profound.
Murphy is supported by an incredible cast, composed largely of some of the best character actors of our modern age. Basically every part has a recognizable face in it, from a bellowing Jason Clarke as Roger Robb or a suitably sweaty David Dastmalchian as William Borden. Robert Downey Jr. is fantastic as Strauss, a man whose petty grievances and resentments boil under the surface until finally overflowing in the last act. If you look at Strauss as the movie's antagonist, he's not the most sinister part in the film. In just a few scenes, Casey Affleck projects a deep sense of malevolence. Dane DeHaan is also coldly calculating as Kenneth Nichols, seeming to glare at other humans with an alien gaze. The heart break and erratic moods of Jean are brought to life with a real depth by Florence Pough.
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