Oppenheimer

Biopics are a tricky genre. They represent a sort of middle ground, not wholly the truth, but still beholden to and judged against it. They have the freedom to interpret history and filter it and mess with it, but need to be careful not to make it wholly ahistorical. As such, the genre is often criticized as having no value: if you want to depict and discuss a historical event, make a documentary, and if you want to tell a story, make it fiction.

As I see it, their existence in this liminal space affords them an angle on Truth that documentary has a much harder time achieving. For one, the idea of documentary as purely factual is misleading at best, but that’s a topic for another day. Additionally, history is messy: events play out over long periods, their connections aren’t often clear until much later, people act in inexplicable ways, and so many insignificant things happen or are said. A biopic can cut through all that, focusing on narrative cohesion and building to its central point more cleanly. It’s less literally honest, yes, but it can highlight what matters and how things connect and prevailing sentiments in a way that just relaying the events might not.

Of course, a common issue with biopics is too much reverence for their subject. They can gloss over criticisms, ignore inconvenient facts, and skip whole periods of time. Documentaries can also do this, of course, but for them it’s a liability, whereas biopics can just point to their “based on” aspect. There’s nothing forcing them to engage with the ethical questions presented by the person’s life or actions. Take Elvis from last year, a movie I quite enjoyed. It didn’t really deal with the accusations that he appropriated and even stole songs from Black musicians.

This is part of what is so refreshing about Oppenheimer. Nolan clearly respects Oppenheimer. He understands and portrays how conflicted Oppenheimer was about his involvement in the Manhattan Project. Hell, we see evidence of it at various points in time. And yet, ultimately, the movie condemns him for it, and more generally for stubbornly refusing to fight for what he believes in.

Oppenheimer continues Nolan’s love of non-traditional narrative structures to draw comparisons between events which didn’t happen consecutively. We mostly experience three time periods: Oppenheimer’s work leading up to and including the Manhattan Project; the security hearing in 1954 which stripped him of his clearance; and the confirmation hearings of Lewis Strauss to a Cabinet position in 1959. Much of our time is spent in the perspective of J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy), but Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.) provides a large dose of political intrigue and reveals a lot of the political machine involved throughout the entire process and afterwards. And these three timelines are interwoven constantly, so although each proceeds linearly, they all provide context to each other, making for a rich exploration of all.

Part of what makes it work so well is that we get solid hints of what’s to come without it being spelled out. We learn that this security hearing is mostly being carried out at the behest of a man named William Borden (David Dastmalchian), so we’re watching for him to show up around Los Alamos, and more generally for what exactly happened that soured him so strongly on Oppenheimer. We get a sense for the relationship between Strauss and Oppenheimer, which in turn colors our perception of Oppenheimer’s relationships with others during the Project, despite all of that taking place beforehand. All of which is just me saying that Nolan deploys this story telling conceit to great effect, not just because he can.

The portrait that emerges is of a very self-important and brilliant man, one who’s full of pride and self-assurance, who views accuracy and science as the highest good, with absolutely zero regard for people or feelings. Truth is his North Star, the end. Which Nolan does not pretend is an absolute good thing. Sure, it helps propel Oppenheimer to the top of his field, and he has some great successes professionally. But few relationships emphasize the downsides more than his contentious yet respectful one with General Leslie Groves (Matt Damon). Both men know they’re dependent for now: Oppenheimer needs the funding and the validation, and Groves needs his brilliance and the loyalty he commands from scientists. But they’re ready to turn on each other as soon as they can. They should be partners, working together, with their disagreements, sure, but ultimately forming a bond. And yet Oppenheimer cannot help but keep him at arms length. The same is true of his relationship with Jane Tatlock (Florence Pugh), and later with his wife Kitty (Emily Blunt). He is a womanizer who managed to settle down, but not without leaving destruction in his wake.

One of Oppenheimer’s key characteristics is the belief in science for the sake of science. He states a number of times in a number of ways that it’s not his job to think about whether or how his work should or shouldn’t be used. It’s his job to figure out how to accomplish the end goal, and let the politicians and military people worry about its usage. It’s this principle which drives him, which guides all his decisions, and it’s the one that most reflects poorly on him amongst the general public, then and now. In the age of climate change, of COVID-19, of genetic engineering, there’s a growing appreciation and expectation that our scientists and scientific bodies will behave ethically, that they’ll consider the impact of their actions on the future, and sound the alarm when something untoward is happening.

And Nolan seems to fall into that camp. The most striking demonstration of that comes near the end, so I won’t spoil it. But throughout, you see Kitty frustrated with him, repeating the mantra of “Why won’t you fight?”. Because we know (and she knows) that he has his beliefs, he has his convictions. It’s part of what lands him in that security hearing: he was a Communist sympathizer in the 20s and 30s, although he never joined the Party. He supported and aided the unionization efforts of the lab of Ernest Lawrence (Josh Harnett) at UC Berkley. So he clearly had the inclination to think about such topics, and just refused to apply them to the war effort. Nolan does a great job of presenting the complex moral calculus of all the scientists, including those like Niels Bohr (Kenneth Branagh), who refused to partake despite their interest in the science. But despite his own personal doubts, his own acknowledgement that while dropping the bomb may be the end of war as we know it, it could also lead to an arms race with the Soviets, Oppenheimer is steadfast in his insistence that the work proceed. Even once Germany is defeated, even as people continue to assert that victory over the Japanese is imminent, he pushes towards the inevitable conclusion which has the potential to end all mankind.

Since Strauss doesn’t enter Oppenheimer’s circle until after the Project, he is on screen less. But his presence looms large over everything. His confirmation hearing, a formality, is complicated by the revelation that the Senators would be taking input from the scientific community, whose identities they won’t reveal. This is the mechanism by which Strauss offers up his views on Oppenheimer, his past, his associations, his actions post-war, and their disagreements. He becomes an important voice in helping to illuminate some of the complexities and machinations that resulted in his once immense influence drying up.

Because that’s one of the many, many contradictions present within the man. Despite enthusiastically and loyally helping to create one of the most dangerous and consequential things in the history of mankind, after the war, he very quickly started advocating against nuclear weapons research, preferring instead to pursue treaties and disarmament plans. So although he was greeted as a hero after Japan’s surrender, it was not long before the higher levels of government turned on him.

RDJ gives an absolute all-timer performance here. For one, to see him play a character who feels nothing like Tony Stark is refreshing: with the exception of Doolittle, this is his first non-MCU role in almost a decade. But his role is so pivotal in the film, doing the important work to ground it and help illuminate this area of Oppenheimer’s life that is so important to understanding American history. It’s nuanced and powerful and incredibly level, so well carried off that when the movie calls for him to get emotional, it’s truly scary, because what on Earth could break this man’s composure? It’s like a volcanic eruption, slowly spreading across his face, and results in words coming out with unimaginably sharp yet subtle daggers. It’s a truly remarkable piece of acting, and he absolutely deserves a nomination come Oscar time.

Which is not to say he’s the only one deserving of praise. Cillian Murphy is absolutely marvelous, transforming as his age requires. Oppenheimer is a complex, tortured character, but one who is simultaneously very certain and determined, and you don’t lose sight of that for a single second. His hypocrisy feels well-worn, like that of a real person. And Emily Blunt as Kitty is fantastic. Nolan has a well-documented track record of not writing great female characters, and while we don’t get to know Kitty super well, at least he gives her plenty to do, centering her in some powerful scenes. And Blunt knows exactly how to pitch it throughout. She is clearly the perfect counterpart to Oppenheimer, cutting straight through his prima-donna BS, nor treating him like a rock star. You can try to write that into a character, but it takes a performance like Blunt’s to actually pull it off.

There isn’t a bad showing in the bunch.

Also, the makeup and costuming departments deserve huge accolades. RDJ is one of the biggest transformations, and it’s incredible. But Murphy’s look is also phenomenal, especially since we see him across what, 50 or 60 years of his life? They nail the look so perfectly at each age that you can easily track his physical deterioration over time. It even has the effect of dulling the brilliance of his piercing blue eyes, which must just be makeup tricks, knowing Nolan’s penchant for doing as much as possible in camera. Both of these departments had better get nominations in the spring.

The last major thing to call out is the recreation of Trinity. Much has been written about how it was done without CGI, and wow did it pay off. The image that came out of it is seared into my brain, a messy, fiery, mushroom cloud, with none of the regularity and definition you usually see. It’s an incredibly dramatic moment, one which he has you bracing for, and leaves you feeling tense for quite a while. Despite the comments about the chance of igniting the atmosphere, we of course know that didn’t happen. And yet, you’re still on the edge of your seat. Even more so once most of the sound cuts out, save for the sounds of breathing and gentle whir of machinery. It slowly starts to bleed back in, and celebrations begin, before the shock wave hits, slamming everyone with a wall of sound and pressure despite being many miles away. It’s a representation of the effect the atomic bomb will have on the world: a powerful force that is as terrifying as it is strangely beautiful, followed by the delayed but sudden knock-on effects wreaking incredible and invisible destruction.

With Oppenheimer, Nolan has demonstrated why he commands such a loyal following. It’s been a bit since he’s had a film really hit the zeitgeist: Tenet received mixed reviews and is largely dismissed, and despite Dunkirk doing well at the box office and receiving good reviews, it’s largely faded from conversation. Granted, his string of successes and the cachet it brought him means he’s never been far from pop culture, and he’s never been in danger of losing standing in the community. I mean, studios were literally fighting to get him to come their way after he left Warner Bros. following Tenet. But now, with an assist from Barbie and stellar reviews from audiences and critics, Oppenheimer seems poised to renew the popular public perception of the auteur, and reassure everyone of his box office draw.