Told in a nonlinear format, Oppenheimer unfortunately takes a bit too long to find its bearings. Told in a nesting doll narrative structure not dissimilar to The Social Network, the film cuts between Oppenheimer and Robert Downey Jr’s Lewis Strauss, as both men face different government tribunals years after the war. The former faces a tribunal to determine if his security clearance should be renewed while the latter is in confirmation hearings for appointment to a cabinet position in Eisenhower’s administration.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with the format, as it comes directly from Nolan’s playbook and he’s had decades to hone this particular narrative style. In fact, Oppenheimer utilizes black & white and color to distinguish between the two timelines similar to how he used black & white in Memento. The overall effect is a strong narrative focus on the life of Oppenheimer, the fate of the world at large at pivotal points, and what Oppenheimer’s work means for humanity as a whole. But there are problems within this narrative structure that unfortunately cannot be ignored.
These problems arise within the first half hour when the Oppenheimer hearing timeline doubles as a backstory for the physicist. Almost as soon as we’re introduced to the man and the hearing he’s facing, we’re thrust into a barrage of rapid fire crash course vignettes designed to give us a rundown of Oppenheimer’s life in academia before the Manhattan Project. In such a densely packed film, there’s definitely a necessity to get this vital information out immediately before thrusting us into the main narrative. However, these flashes of Oppenheimer’s life feel disjointing to the point of being disorienting. It’s not until Matt Damon’s General Groves is introduced and appoints Oppenheimer to the head of the Manhattan Project that the film finds its footing and goes along at a more natural pace.
Once the project is underway, the film spends a wealth of time in the inner workings of the project at Los Alamos in a truly gripping run of screen time leading up to the completion of the project and the testing of an atomic bomb. It’s in this portion of the film where Oppenheimer reveals itself to be Nolan’s best scripted movie to date. The dialogue carries a range of emotions and subtext that’s been sorely absent from a lot of Nolan’s career. Unlike other Nolan films, Oppenheimer doesn’t rely on an abundance of expository dialogue to hold the audience’s hand. Instead, the purpose of creating the bomb and its importance to the war effort is always given center stage instead of being cast aside by dialogue explaining the science behind the theories with which they’re working.
As the films jumps around the timeline, the dramatic significance of the dueling hearings of Oppenheimer and Strauss is given more and more gravitas. Once the story takes us past the Manhattan Project era of the timeline, these hearings are given their due with a certain dramatic prominence. While it does become slightly muddled as we transition into a courtroom drama of sorts in the film’s final third, the performances of Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey Jr. carry the necessary weight of the film’s dramatic tension. The film narrows in on the two men’s positions and beliefs for the future of mankind in a nuclear age with tons of vigor and subtext leading to performances from both men that’s some of the best acting of the year by far.
Likewise, Emily Blunt’s performance as Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty is filled with internalized, nuanced emotions throughout the film. In some respects, she is under served for the majority of the film as a byproduct of a dense three hour drama. However, Blunt’s nuanced performance culminates with a spectacular scene in which Kitty gives testimony at one of the hearings. Given how central Oppenheimer’s personal relationships are to the story Nolan is telling, this scene serves as a strong button on that portion of Oppenheimer’s life.
But while Oppenheimer’s marriage and personal relationships are given importance in the film’s plot, it’s also an area wherein the film’s biggest weakness lies. Florence Pugh’s performance as Jean Tatlock, a woman with whom Oppenheimer has an ongoing affair, is strong and further cements her as one of the best young actresses working today. However, as strong as Nolan’s script is, Jean’s plot line gets an aggressively short shrift in the final product. The point of her arc and the effect she has on Oppenheimer (as well as the tumult it causes in his marriage) is all laid out and present in the film. The brevity in which Pugh appears onscreen, however, and the way this subplot competes with so many other aspects of the story really serves to lessen the impact Jean has on the greater story, unfortunately.
In terms of visual and auditory achievements in Oppenheimer, Nolan has outdone himself to a striking degree. It’s not just evident in the highly anticipated bomb test sequence, either. Nolan puts the audience in Oppenheimer’s perspective by cutting to stunning snippets of atomic level visuals to represent the horror brewing within Oppenheimer’s psyche. This visual and seat-shaking audio cacophony occurs in intervals throughout the film, offering a variety to what’s depicted in both the visual sense and in length of screen time. The most daring and impressive aspect of the film however, is in the way these sporadic shots coalesce in unexpected ways.
As the horror of the atomic age mounts in Oppenheimer’s mind, Nolan brings this imagery into the real world for this American Prometheus. In stunningly abstract sequences that key into a certain visual metaphor that’s unlike anything Nolan has done in his career, the film’s apex of despair comes to life in front of Oppenheimer’s eyes. These sequences are filled with horror imagery with the camera focused almost entirely on Cillian Murphy’s haunting expressions of grief at the magnitude of his work. One scene in which Oppenheimer is addressing a crowd at Los Alamos isn’t just the standout scene of the film, but may in fact be the best sequence Christopher Nolan has ever put to film.
The themes Nolan explores in his examination of Oppenheimer’s life and legacy are profound and horrific all the same. It’s maybe not the crowning achievement of Nolan’s career thus far, all things considered. But it’s easily his most profound and haunting work yet. Maybe ever. As audiences watch the scale of the atomic bomb first theorized, then tested and manufactured, the implication of its might as an “end all wars” weapon is overshadowed by the immense, if incalculable, burden of what comes next. The way Nolan tells this story should leave audiences truly and deeply haunted by the thought of what can happen next while also providing an intimate insight into one of modern history’s most compelling figures.
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