They say that history is written by the victors and that those who lose usually fade into obscurity. J. Robert Oppenheimer is one of the rare historical figures that can be considered both a hero and a villain, a victor and loser in equal measure, and as evidenced by his famous statement “I am become death, the destroyer of worlds” (which he appropriated from a Sanskrit text, one of the many non-traditional areas of academia that he sought to master in his continued pursuit to understand the intricacies of the universe and its inhabitants), he was well-aware of the consequences of his actions, and immediately regretted the part he played in developing the atomic bomb, perhaps the most destructive weapon the world has seen yet. Some may consider his invention as one of the most influential in the history of humanity, albeit not for any particularly positive reason, and that he assisted in the destruction of entire cities and the annihilation of thousands of lives, something that haunted him for his entire life. His story has been one that many have tried to understand, but it is obvious that we cannot ever comprehend the scope of both his impact on the world of science, as well as the guilt he felt for decades after he indirectly played a part in the violent, harrowing conclusion to the Second World War. Christopher Nolan seemed to take an active interest in his life, as made very clear in Oppenheimer, a biographical account that looks at the life and career of one of history’s greatest scientific minds, someone whose pursuit of knowledge and willingness to sacrifice his morals simply to see if something can be done has placed him squarely at the heart of the history of his profession, for better or worse. One of the year’s most extraordinary works, and a remarkable credit to the sometimes divisive director, who has seemingly found the perfect story that combines his penchant for the extravagant and epic with a more meaningful, layered storyline, Oppenheimer is an incredible achievement, a complex and engaging historical drama that infuses every frame with a sense of despair and curiosity, two uncommon traits that we rarely find working in symbiosis, but which form the foundation of this haunting and deeply provocative psychological thriller that dares to peer behind the curtain of the past and investigate the life and experiences of one of history’s most unwillingly important minds. 

From its very first moments, Oppenheimer does not feel like a traditional biographical drama, and while it may not be the first instance of such a film employing a non-linear structure that blends multiple different timelines and arranges the events in an order that is far from traditional, it is certainly one in which these ideas are explored with rigour and dedication, rather than just being subjected to needless tinkering by a director who was simply attempting to do something different. Structurally, the film is quite unique – functioning as an adaptation of the non-fiction book American Prometheus by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin which is often considered a definitive text on Oppenheimer, with the film examining a few decades in his life, with the centrepiece of the story obviously being around the Manhattan Project, in which Oppenheimer and a group of scientists, engineers and other immensely important individuals worked for two years in the arid landscapes of New Mexico to develop the world’s first atomic bomb, an effort streamlined by the United States government in an effort to assert dominance and hopefully not only bring an end to the Second World War, but do so in a way that served to be an astonishing demonstration of American ingenuity and military force, since it is not enough to end a war, one has to strive to make sure everyone knows that it was done through the most harrowing and destructive ways imaginable. Whatever it was that inspired Nolan to put pen to paper and adapt this novel is not clear (although he has spoken about some of the aspects of the story that inspired and intrigued him), but it is quite obvious that this was something that the director was extremely passionate about exploring, as we see throughout the film. The correlation between the mythological figure of Prometheus, who stole fire from the Gods and gave it to the mortals, is reiterated throughout, Nolan evoking the same feeling of existential despair on a grand scale as he examines these historical events, showing not only the situation leading to the invention of the atomic bomb, but also its aftermath, both political and psychological, which leads to a haunting series of moments that are exceptionally curated, being tenderly pieced together as this film progresses and becomes even more complex.

There certainly exists a version of Oppenheimer that is more traditional and formed almost entirely from conventions, which would have likely resulted in a more understandable but far less captivating film. Nolan is not someone who ever seems to be interested in anything other than the entirely unorthodox, even in those films that are relatively divisive – and this doesn’t prove to be any different. If anything, its willingness to embrace a more unsettling set of themes is what sets it apart from a more traditional version of this story. Ultimately, it all comes down to the relationship between the chosen perspective of the film, and how it manifests on screen, which is understandably the source of many of the more intriguing details that drive the film. Oppenheimer is constructed as a methodical, detailed breakdown of the titular character, as told through oscillations between the past and present, which take the form of both memories and delusions, both of which are crucial to understanding him as both a scientist tasked with changing the world, and as a man who stands solitary on the brink, watching it become gradually destroyed as a result of his efforts. The non-linear structure, in which the film leaps between his formative years and those later on in his career (both during the development of the Manhattan Project, and the years following it, which saw a shift in his responsibilities and reputation), adds many layers to the film, and while their are occasional interludes in which we are given access to the perspective of other characters, most notably Lewis Strauss, who moves from one of Oppenheimer’s allies to the person who orchestrates his downfall, the film primarily relies on a process in which we see the world through Oppenheimer’s perspective, watching as his wide-eyed enthusiasm to discover the many wonders that lurk within the universe turning into a vacant, terrified stare into oblivion, his eyes telling a story that has seen the collision of the past and future in his attempts to redefine the present under the orders of a government that he has pledged to support, even when they make it very clear that they are willing to do anything they can to not only utilize the intellect and skillfulness of their greatest scientists, but actively exploit it in a way that leaves very little room for any optimism. These are the multilayered ideas that propel Oppenheimer and make it much more than a conventional biographical drama, instead forming the story into a harrowing psychological character study in which we are shown glimpses of the life of a man whose remorse for his creation and the destruction it wrought has been one of the defining principles of contemporary science.

Despite being one of his regular collaborators, and someone with whom Nolan has worked quite frequently to the point where he is considered one of his muses, Cillian Murphy had yet to lead one of the director’s films, a fact that he spoke about addressing, yearning to be able to do something more than just play the villain or a reliable supporting part. Whether or not he was the first choice in the conceptual stage remains to be seen, but it is obvious that the titular role in Oppenheimer was the perfect opportunity for the actor to take on a much larger role. This not only presented him with the chance to do something more under the direction of an artist to whom he is clearly very dedicated, but also allowed him to turn in arguably his finest performance to date, which is quite an achievement considering that he is one of our greatest living actors and someone who has been delivering stellar work for decades. Even noting that he is exceptional in this film feels like it is simply reiterating the obvious, but he is obviously as brilliant as we expected, proven by his remarkable ability to oscillate between dense, complex dialogue and complete silence, in which his extremely expressive face and movements give us even more insights into the character’s mental state as he navigates many profoundly difficult challenges. It is essentially three hours of Murphy unravelling and becoming more psychologically scarred as a result of what he witnessed during the war, which makes for an incredible performance that will likely define his already magnificent career. Oppenheimer is also notable for the cast of supporting players – there’s a wide range of fantastic actors scattered throughout this film, and we find that they are all delivering stellar performances, even when they only appear for a few scenes. Robert Downey, Jr. is fantastic in one of the larger roles, playing the film’s main villain and someone who offers a different perspective on the subjects being explored, while Blunt is the embodiment of consistency as Oppenheimer’s loving but conflicted wife. There is a myriad of other terrific actors – nearly every role in this film is occupied by a familiar face, which speaks not only to the quality of the film, but the reputation Nolan has amassed in order to be able to work with such a cast, everyone turning in incredible work as part of this sprawling tapestry of fascinating characters.

Nolan has always defined himself as a filmmaker who draws on his willingness to push the boundaries of his craft – it may not always work out particularly well (since there are occasions where his writing is too convoluted, or his films become too much of a spectacle to actually have as profound a meaning as they intended), but he is objectively very ambitious as both a storyteller and visuals stylist, and much of this comes from the creative people with which he collaborates in bringing his films to life. Oppenheimer is not an exception, and we once again see Nolan trying to prove his mettle as a filmmaker by tackling this story with the same intensity, despite the fact that it could have very easily have been told with a fraction of the effort and still been appropriately ambitious, but would have lost the audacity that is most important to the overall identity of the film. There is a blend of returning artists and newcomers to Nolan’s coterie, with Hoyte von Hoytema being tasked with once again bringing to life this story and recreating the first half of the 20th century in vibrant detail. The shift between colour and black-and-white gives the film a distinct appearance that also has a narrative impact, and the photography is just beautiful, whether its in the small, intimate moments or in the landmark sequences in which we see the impact of the atomic bomb, including the well-publicized scene in which the weapon is first tested, which alone warrants the level of attention to detail this film has been promoting. Ludwig Göransson also reunites with Nolan after their previous collaboration on Tenet, providing yet another beautiful and intricate score that underpins the themes of the film with a range of poignant and effective musical cues that feel appropriately tempered to the atmosphere of the story, rather than trying to separately define it. Oppenheimer is a film in which a lot of effort is placed to evoke the period and capture this particular moment in time, which is done through creating an atmosphere of fear and despair, but also a quiet resilience, contributing to this vivid portrait of a man slowly unravelling and realizing that he has been complicit in a life-changing event, which is portrayed exceptionally well. Nolan is not always someone who has been able to entirely avoid the trite “style over substance” discussion but has at least done enough to not have such discourse be taken seriously, and Oppenheimer proves that he is as exceptional when crafting a story as he is constructing it, which is done with nothing but the most sincere care and undeniable ambition.

Speaking as someone who has been notoriously agnostic towards Nolan for most of his career, my opinion on his work ranging from mild enthusiasm to complete apathy, it is clear that Oppenheimer is the film he was born to make, the culmination of nearly a quarter of a century of work in which he developed as a filmmaker, working within many different genres in an effort to find his voice as an artist, eventually discovering that his most intriguing ideas are not those drawn from high-concept storytelling, but rather the more simple narratives that he can explore creatively and with the fervent vigour around which he has marketed his entire career. He has not always been one who has shown much engaged reverence for history – films like The Prestige and Dunkirk do show that he has an interest, but not enough to make these factual projects a defining trait. I would suspect that this may change with Oppenheimer, which will likely set the standard for ambitious historical films – no longer do we have to expect the same conventional, formulaic approach to the storytelling process, and these events don’t need to be subjected to the same flaccid, uninspiring tropes that previously defined it. We can’t truly proclaim this as the most ambitious historical drama ever produced, but it is a step in the direction of a kind of filmmaking that pays equal attention to the story as it does the manner in which it is delivered, pushing boundaries to the point where it becomes an exercise in seeing how far it can take some of these abstract themes before it falls apart. We find that this never happens, and that it instead becomes a matter of unravelling the past with a profoundly interesting approach. Yet, it is the more meaningful elements that make the biggest difference with Oppenheimer, which is much more than just an opportunity to showcase the visual and narrative prowess of the director. Instead, the priority is to find meaning in the madness of the past, and the film functions as a detailed and profoundly haunting examination of Oppenheimer as he moves from an ambitious scientist with dreams of solving all the world’s problems, not realizing that his most significant achievement will be the invention of a device that has the potential to destroy the same humanity he wished to save.