Oppenherimer, Christopher Nolan

Oppenheimer, directed by Christopher Nolan.

Men, earnest men. Serious men. Men in suits, whiskey, and hats, talking in subdued menace and ego but all toned to show how strong they are, don’t express it because they are so strong. And lighting and strength are clinical and military men. And badges. And bombs. For three hours. 

But it also has Cillian Murphy’s face. In every form, in several ages. And that face dominates the screen like a visceral icon of foreboding, doom, dream, and lights.

For three hours.

When I decide what a good film is, I think about two things: whether it is good or cinema. This is an excellent film with a run time and structure of three hours…is it a cinema…im dubious.

Knowing very little about the man except for his infamous catchphrase and the barest bones of the atomic bomb,b I have no way to criticise the drama’s integrity except in this. It is a drama. It is very much a drama. A classically male narrative drama of a troubled genius, with bouts of violent thoughts and pulpy concerns and ego and womanising and neglect. But it’s all ramped up within the structure. There is a certain flitting back and forth as Oppenheimer’s reputation is on trial more than his actual self. But within that, we go through his angry young man of notions, grandeur, and theorising. This is the most dynamic hour of the film as we see America through the preppy white halls of academia and the life of swinging and louche loves Oppenheimer enjoys. It’s got fantasy, bragging, and sex in the way only cinema does, and it’s as if…well, frankly, the film is so manly it makes the Snyderverse look like it’s set in Barbie land. But for its flaws, I’m a sucker for that life; it’s the fantasy of an adult genus I felt I would have when I hit my 40s and was in my 20s. A fantasy as dated as the time itself. But one that persists nonetheless.

But the most intriguing part of it all is in the second act. Once Oppenheimer gets to build his asteroid city, we see that he is not a groundbreaking visionary; he’s a politician. He is an intelligent man who knows how to surround himself with genius and compile and rail against compartmentalisation to get an accurate, holistic view of the scene. We see domestic despair and society and egos amongst them in such a way it becomes a drama of budget and paranoia. It eh interdepartmental aspects that see characters at their strongest. Affairs and failed alliances make the film’s most vital part as tensions and fear mount.

But the finale, after moving from vision to application, is more an administrative destruction of a man. While the film itself largely flits in a non-linear fashion, it suffers here. While the men, this time, have big tables and small rooms. The level of detail that has already been pushed over two hours becomes a bit worn. This is where the idea of good film or cinema kicks in.

Nolan lies with time, with causality and what we already know. But this stylistic device that s more flourish when dealing with real lives. What should be a magnificent sleight of hand in a fantasy is merely annoying in a biography. The relatively straightforward distancing of each act from the other begs whether this has to be one film. I would have loved each hour more as a mini-series, given time to digest and rewatch the first hour before the second one came long. It’s a casserole dish with the promise that you must finish the plate, or it will get cold.

While stunning in parts, the story and visuals merit a large screen. But I was in the cinema before four o’clock. I suggest not waiting for the stream. But watch it in three parts.

You will see so much more energy if you split it that way.