Review of 'Oppenheimer': A Figure Perfectly Suited for the Contemporary Era.
Christopher Nolan's intricate and vivid portrayal of J. Robert Oppenheimer, often referred to as the "father of the atomic bomb," is a remarkable success both in its artistic and intellectual aspects.
"Oppenheimer," Christopher Nolan's awe-inspiring movie about J. Robert Oppenheimer, often dubbed as "the father of the atomic bomb," compresses a monumental shift in awareness into a haunting three-hour experience. This gripping drama delves into the realms of genius, pride, and mistakes, exploring both individual and collective aspects. The film brilliantly navigates the tumultuous life of the American theoretical physicist, central to the research and development of the two atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki during World War II. These catastrophic events played a pivotal role in ushering in the era dominated by human influence."
Christopher Nolan, the writer and director, guides viewers through the opening sequence of the film.
The film draws inspiration from the authoritative 2005 biography, "American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer," penned by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin. Crafted by writer and director Christopher Nolan, the movie extensively incorporates elements from the book to explore Oppenheimer's life, particularly his pivotal role in the Manhattan Engineer District, commonly known as the Manhattan Project. Oppenheimer served as the director of a covert weapons laboratory situated in the desolate landscapes of Los Alamos, New Mexico. Here, he collaborated with numerous brilliant scientific minds of the era, grappling with the challenges of harnessing nuclear reactions for the devastating weapons that abruptly ended the war in the Pacific, claiming tens of thousands of lives.
Oppenheimer's enduring legacy is inextricably tied to the atomic bomb, a defining theme that shapes this film. Christopher Nolan delves extensively into the intricate and disturbing process of building the bomb, providing a captivating yet harrowing exploration. Notably, Nolan opts against reenacting the actual attacks, avoiding the use of documentary footage depicting the aftermath or panoramic views of cities in ruins. These decisions reflect his ethical stance and absolute principles. The film deeply acknowledges the horror of the bombings, the immense suffering they unleashed, and the subsequent arms race that unfolded. "Oppenheimer" stands out as a remarkable achievement in both artistic and intellectual terms, with Nolan's filmmaking serving as a crucial vehicle for conveying the historical narrative.
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The narrative follows Oppenheimer, portrayed with intense fervor by Cillian Murphy, through the decades, commencing in the 1920s as a young adult and unfolding until the graying of his hair. The film explores both personal and professional milestones in Oppenheimer's life, delving into his pivotal role in bomb development, the controversies that haunted him, the anti-Communist attacks that almost destroyed him, and the intricate web of friendships and romances that both supported and troubled him. Notably, he engages in an affair with the passionate political activist Jean Tatlock, played vibrantly by Florence Pugh. Later, he enters into a marriage with the charismatic Kitty Harrison, portrayed in a slowly intensifying performance by Emily Blunt. Their journey takes them to Los Alamos, where Kitty gives birth to their second child.
The narrative is rich with events, intricately woven by Nolan, a filmmaker who has always embraced the malleability of the cinematic medium. He imparts a complex structure to the story, dividing it into revealing sections, most presented in lush color while others in high-contrast black and white. These sections are intricately arranged, intertwining like strands to form a shape reminiscent of the double helix of DNA. Nolan emphasizes his conceptual approach by incorporating the words "fission" (representing a splitting into parts) and "fusion" (signifying a merging of elements) into the film. True to his distinctive style, Nolan adds another layer of complexity by periodically bending the overarching chronology of the narrative – it's a lot to take in.
The narrative doesn't unfold gradually; instead, Nolan thrusts you directly into the tumultuous whirlwind of Oppenheimer's life, presenting vivid scenes from various periods. In quick succession, the seasoned older Oppie (as his intimates refer to him) and his younger self flash across the screen, briefly landing the story in the 1920s. Here, Oppenheimer is depicted as an anguished student haunted by fiery, apocalyptic visions. Amid his suffering, he immerses himself in cultural touchstones of the time, reading T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land," playing Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring," and standing before a Picasso painting. These art forms become defining works of an era where physics was folding space and time into the concept of space-time.
The rapid pace and narrative fragmentation persist as Nolan paints this Cubist-like portrait, weaving through continents and introducing a multitude of characters, including Niels Bohr (played by Kenneth Branagh), a physicist involved in the Manhattan Project. Nolan populates the film with familiar faces, such as Matt Damon, Robert Downey Jr., and Gary Oldman, some of whom may be distracting. The casting choice of director Benny Safdie as Edward Teller, the theoretical physicist recognized as the "father of the hydrogen bomb," took some time to accept, and the inclusion of Rami Malek in a minor role remains unclear, other than his status as a recognizable figure.
As Oppenheimer's character takes center stage, so does the evolving world around him. In 1920s Germany, he delves into quantum physics; by the next decade, he's teaching at Berkeley, engaging with other young prodigies, and establishing a center for the study of quantum physics. Nolan skillfully captures the intellectual fervor of the era, marked by the palpable excitement of scientific breakthroughs—such as Einstein's publication of the theory of general relativity in 1915. As expected, the film features abundant scientific debates and chalkboards adorned with intricate calculations, most of which Nolan manages to translate into relatively comprehensible terms. One of the film's delights is immersing viewers in the kinetic excitement of intellectual discourse by proxy.
The trajectory of Oppenheimer's life takes a dramatic turn while at Berkeley, coinciding with the news of Germany's invasion of Poland. At this juncture, he has developed a friendship with Ernest Lawrence (portrayed by Josh Hartnett), a physicist credited with inventing the particle accelerator known as the cyclotron. Lawrence plays a pivotal role in the Manhattan Project. It is also at Berkeley that Oppenheimer encounters Leslie Groves (depicted predictably well by Damon), the military head of the project. Groves appoints him as the director of Los Alamos, despite Oppenheimer's previous support for leftist causes, including anti-fascist efforts during the Spanish Civil War, and his associations with Communist Party members, such as his brother Frank (played by Dylan Arnold).
Nolan stands out among contemporary filmmakers for his ambitious approach, both thematically and technically. Collaborating with the exceptional cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema, Nolan opts for 65-millimeter film (projected in 70-millimeter), a format he has previously used to create a sense of cinematic grandeur. The results are immersive, though occasionally overwhelming, especially when the spectacle overshadows the coherence of the storytelling. In "Oppenheimer," as in "Dunkirk" (2017), Nolan employs the format to convey the magnitude of a world-defining event. Additionally, it serves to narrow the gap between the audience and Oppenheimer, turning his face into both a vast landscape and a reflective mirror.
The film's exceptional skill is apparent in every scene, showcasing virtuosity without self-indulgence. Filmmakers tackling significant subjects can sometimes overshadow the history they aim to portray, becoming show-offs in the process. Nolan skillfully avoids this by consistently placing Oppenheimer within a broader context, particularly through the use of black-and-white segments. One segment revolves around a politically charged security clearance hearing in 1954, a witch hunt that tarnished Oppenheimer's reputation. The second focuses on the 1959 confirmation of Lewis Strauss (a mesmerizing, nearly unrecognizable Downey), a former chairman of the United States Atomic Energy Commission nominated for a cabinet position.
Nolan seamlessly integrates these black-and-white segments with the colored ones, leveraging scenes from the hearing and confirmation to create a dialectical synthesis. This method effectively illustrates how Oppenheimer and other Jewish scientists, many of whom were refugees from Nazi Germany, viewed their work in existential terms. Despite Oppenheimer's brilliance, international reputation, and wartime service to the U.S. government, he cannot escape political maneuvering, the vanity of small-minded individuals, and the blatant antisemitism during the Red scare.
The black-and-white sequences dominate the film's final third. While they may seem lengthy at times, Nolan skillfully weaves together the film's complexities and numerous fragments, crafting a comprehensive portrait of a man who contributed to transformative scientific discovery and personified the intersection of science and politics. Oppenheimer, once a Communist boogeyman, is transformed by his involvement in creating weapons of mass destruction and later becomes an outspoken critic of nuclear war dangers.
François Truffaut's observation that war films, even pacifist ones, inadvertently glorify war is relevant here. Nolan's decision not to depict the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki aligns with his refusal to make war attractive. Instead, the film shows Oppenheimer witnessing the first test bomb, accompanied by his famous reflection: "Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds." Nolan emphasizes how the world swiftly moved on from the horrors of war to embrace the destructive power of the bomb, leaving humanity as the ultimate destroyers of worlds.
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