Nolan uses every second of the film’s runtime in furtherance of the film’s themes. Oppenheimer may best be known for his paraphrasing Hindu texts at the detonation of the first atomic bomb, saying ‘Now I am become death, destroyer of worlds.’ That line is in the film at an unexpected time, but Nolan seems to be starting from that quote and the person who would not only think it, but tell the story of thinking it after. The picture of the man that the viewer comes away with is of a person who knows how his peers, i.e. professors and scientists, want him to act and feel, and pretends to do so. Nolan’s Oppenheimer is always performing, withholding his true feelings from even the people closest to him. He does this to please all parties, to maintain his security clearance without jeopardizing his dinner party invites. Multiple parties beg him to make a stand in a period where a stand needed to be taken and he repeatedly weasels away, making himself the patron saint of a particular form of bureaucratic cowardice that allows governments to do terrible things. His inaction does nothing to slow the unfolding tragedy of his life, where what was once his greatest source of joy is poisoned by his own hand.
That this man would rise to become a central figure in mid-20th-century science and government is to be reminded of how differently the world might’ve been were different people in charge. Before it becomes a tragedy, Oppenheimer is a synthesis of the joy of discovery and human potential. Two rising forces dominate the early parts of Oppenheimer’s professional life: quantum physics and socialism. Inspired by mentor Neils Bohr (Kenneth Branagh), PhD candidate Oppenheimer begins to ‘hear the music’ of the universe, uncovering hidden mechanisms at the atomic level. He passes this new knowledge to the next generation of students in a montage that is my favorite thing Nolan’s ever done. One student becomes dozens as the semesters progress, and Oppenheimer becomes a brilliant professor and researcher, breaking down an interpretation of the universe that would judge things as separate and introducing the idea of the cosmic swirl of molecules whose boundaries are only illusory. Out of the classroom, faculty consider what else could change about their understanding of the world and toy with the idea of socialism and communism while their students form on-campus labor unions and go fight against Franco in Spain.
From the romantic possibility of the theoretical classroom comes the organization and precision of the lab. All the idealism and optimism grinds to a halt when WWII breaks out. Nuclear fission has been discovered a few years prior, and Oppenheimer can’t join the top secret government projects that will guide its further development if he’s playing footsie with communists. At the prompting of colleague Ernest Lawrence (Josh Hartnett), he immediately backs away from his prior associates and gets brought into what will become the Manhattan Project by Colonel Leslie Groves (Matt Damon). The film briefly turns into a heist story here, as Oppenheimer and Groves criss-cross the country, recruiting scientists and playing catch-up to the Germans, but all of Oppenheimer’s previously established flaws keep cropping up. The fundamental incompatibility of a scientific project conducted with tight security means he has to play all sides, and though the job gets done, his successes in one part of the project mean failures in another. A people-pleaser and someone desperate for applause, this lengthy segment ends in the film’s centerpiece moment. After the bomb has been dropped and Japan has surrendered, Oppenheimer understands what has happened but gives the triumphalist speech anyway, speaking of retribution and the missed opportunity to use the bomb on the Germans as he imagines the crowd with strips of skin falling off them and dissolving into ash. None of this imagery stops his cadence or alters his poise, as Nolan demonstrates what he thinks of this man.
After that kind of exclamation point, the film could justifiably end, but Oppenheimer still has an hour to go. The rest is given over to how quickly people forget the lessons of history. An earlier scene conveys that the Nazis will lose the race for the atomic bomb because of anti-Semitism, where their racial hatred will keep them from utilizing all the knowledge otherwise available to them. Once it becomes clear that the Soviets will seamlessly step into the place the Nazis and Japanese just occupied, Oppenheimer’s higher-ups clamp down on communication with the Soviets and guarantee that they’ll have no choice but to develop their own bomb. Strauss’ hatred of Oppenheimer comes down to a difference of opinion on the arms race, with Strauss firmly on the side of building up the arsenal while Oppenheimer flirts with the disarmament side but can’t fully endorse them without putting his powerful position at risk. The Fusion section of the film takes full control here, as Strauss’ Cabinet confirmation hearing is intercut with an unofficial determination of Oppenheimer’s continued security clearance. The result is a man making himself a martyr, turning his rival into a public villain while he escapes unscathed. The battle is over his legacy, foreshadowed by an earlier scene of scientists talking about Einstein (Tom Conti) as a guy who once had a brilliant idea but now putters around the edges as a consultant, receiving awards but not really contributing. This is Oppenheimer’s reward, plus existential dread that haunts his waking life.
Throughout this long journey, Nolan is assembling seemingly every actor in Hollywood. Emily Blunt plays Oppenheimer’s wife Kitty whose ambivalence towards being a mother fits perfectly with her husband’s go-along approach to his work. Florence Pugh plays Jean Tatlock, Oppenheimer’s lover and a card-carrying communist who the security apparatus that follows in Oppenheimer’s wake finds very interesting. Branagh is the emotional center of the film in what’s undoubtedly the best and most grounded role he’s taken on in years, while Hartnett vividly returns to the big screen to kick off the square-jawed voice of reason phase of his career. Benny Safdie is the omnipresent specter of greater destruction as Edward Teller, father of the hydrogen bomb, while Casey Affleck stuns in a five-minute role as a counter-intelligence operative who coldly grills Oppenheimer. These and so many others wow in roles of all sizes. When even Rami Malek is putting in his best work, one knows they’re watching something special.
All cylinders are firing under Nolan’s guidance, from the huge cast to Jennifer Lame’s heroic editing and Ludwig Goranson’s score that is not so overpowering that it drowns out the dialogue, as the last several Nolan films have. Cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema incorporates surrealist asides as Oppenheimer visualizes things at the atomic level, while also turning everyday imagery into the stuff of Armageddon nightmares. However, it’s Nolan’s script that most impresses. The writing has so often been the biggest disappointment in his films, but the experience of Tenet may have been instructive. That was a film that Nolan labored over for years, only for bosses above his head and global circumstances to mangle its release and dictate events. If this allowed him to find a level of camaraderie with Oppenheimer, then the result is a perceptive and damning picture that is far and away the creative peak of his career. Tenet, a movie I otherwise hated, begets Oppenheimer, and therefore justifies its existence. A