Oppenheimer Review: The Political Realities and Social Truths of Genius

Spoiler Warning: this review makes specific reference to some dialogue and narrative points in Oppenheimer. And so, if you are looking to retain an unspoiled view, it may be best not to read this review.

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When Oppenheimer was announced, and I saw the initial trailers, I have to say, I wasn’t too interested in seeing it. My enthusiasm for Nolan films had unfortunately waned on me after too many grandiose adventures that overpromised and underdelivered. This was even despite my personal interest in physics as a subject. I used to be massively interested in quantum physics and learned all about the figures that this film repeatedly discusses – Oppenheimer, Bohr, Einstein, Heisenberg (and even some it doesn’t explicitly discuss like Pauli, Schrodinger, Feynman). I decided to watch it after seeing the rave reviews, recommendations from friends and family, and as I realized that Barbenheimer was sort of a cultural moment I didn’t want to miss out on. I’m very glad that I fought my initial instincts, because Oppenheimer is a masterclass in non-linear storytelling and a deft display of the power of political expediency, and the impact of political realities.

Annoyingly, the cinema I went to had the first three to five minutes of the film imageless, and all the audience heard was dialogue. We were all clearly unsure about whether this was an intended film effect, or whether the cinema had messed up somehow. However, when the image finally popped in, it was clear it was not intended and was a fault by the cinema. So, to that effect, I cannot speak to the first few minutes of the film with much insight.

Oppenheimer follows the life of J. Robert Oppenheimer, an acclaimed physicist and socialist sympathizer at a time of growing suspicions towards communism. After being chosen to lead the development of the Manhattan Project, the program that developed the atomic bomb for the USA in World War II, Oppenheimer faces the harsh pressures and realities of creating a weapon of war and the American political system.

As I mentioned previously, Oppenheimer is a masterclass in non-linear storytelling. From the outset, you’re not quite sure who’s story we’re really following, and how these de-linked sequences interconnect. Luckily, Nolan’s clever choice to shoot some scenes in colour and some in black and white help to identify what the time period is, who the focus of the scene is, and what kind of themes are being explored at that time. It’s a great way of using the screen to convey information, rather than just for visual appeal. It may take a while to fully understand the narrative and character motivations here, but don’t let that suggest Oppenheimer doesn’t intrigue you right from the start – it does. This non-linear storytelling coupled with incredible editing mirrors the dissonance of Oppenheimer’s emotional journey, as well as the quantum world’s annihilation of conventional understandings of space and time. It also helps the film’s pacing, ensuring audiences don’t get bored or tired even with something of an elongated long third act. Part of this magic was the wonderful use of foreshadowing certain images or sounds like scores of feet stamping on stairs or the falling of rainwater onto tables. Only Oppenheimer could see or hear these phenomena, becoming motifs that conveyed his thoughts, fears and anxieties as they “build-up” or “flood” his mind. We’ve seen non-linearity in Nolan’s films before, like in Memento or Inception, but we’ve never seen it done to such great effect as of yet, where the audience is gracefully led towards their own revelations.

In the introduction I said that I used to be very interested in physics, until I then pursued my somewhat diametric passion of history, social theory and critical thinking. The reason for this was that I believe the traits associated with these subjects are more important than the ones gained from pursuing the sciences (whether society would agree or not with that judgement today, I am unsure). It was my belief that, all things are political and social by nature and so to understand that is to understand how one should act in the world. What I love about Oppenheimer, is how it encapsulates my own beliefs. Oppenheimer may on the surface appear to be about the “father of the atomic bomb” - a scientific pursuit. However, it is more about the naivety of actors in understanding that political and social experiences will define us. Oppenheimer struggles throughout the film not with finding a way to build the bomb, but in finding ways to convince others within a deep political game where people’s ambitions conflict with his own, and to deal with the emotional fallout from the realization of the power and influence he holds. Oppenheimer begins to understand the truth that social experiences define how we act, how we must be, and how we think of ourselves. He begins to understand that politics is in everything; in your relationships, in your work, and in how you communicate with others. Indeed, Oppenheimer is constantly referred to as a God, with one character saying Oppenheimer is above us “mortals.” But, especially through Lewis Strauss, excellently played by Robert Downey Jr., Oppenheimer shows us that even those with incredible intellect, the “Gods” among us, are still subject to those same social and political forces as the rest of us.

There were several shots and scenes in Oppenheimer that I loved for various reasons, not least that the cinematography was holistically excellent. One such scene I loved was the exchange between Oppenheimer and President Truman, in which the political and social tensions of developing and using the atomic bomb brutally and incisively reflect the power dynamic within American society, and the inability of men to be vulnerable and emotional. Truman’s remark as Oppenheimer leaves, “don’t let that crybaby back into my office,” is incredibly indicative of the suppression of male expression, but also the ferocity of political actors, foreshadowing nicely the eventual discovery of Strauss’ political ambitions. I think part of my love of Oppenheimer is in how grounded the film felt, unlike some of those “grandiose” films of Nolan’s I previously criticized. One scene I feel encapsulated this was the discussion between Oppenheimer’s Manhattan Project leaders and some of the top brass of American Government, where they decided which Japanese city to Nuke. The decider has a list of cities and crosses off Kyoto, citing its cultural significance, before stating that he and his wife “vacation” there. I recently learned this was an improvised line, which makes it even better, because it’s a poignantly apt satire of how Government often functions; largely through personal affection, political ambition, and social influence. The technology does not define our future (which people may see the development of the atomic bomb as doing), the way in which we use it does. It’s such a relevant topic for our current world given the rapid improvements in AI, but the same credence holds true. Our future is determined by our political and social experiences and choices, not by the technology we design.

One thing that must be mentioned is how astounding Oppenheimer’s audio and visuals are. Firstly, Nolan has said that there are “Zero CGI” shots used in the development of the special effects, essentially meaning that no single effect is entirely produced with CGI and some use no CGI at all, which I am incredibly thankful for given its overuse in so much of mainstream cinema. The result is a fantastic array of interesting shapes, objects, colours and lights that represent the ideas floating inside Oppenheimer’s head. Ideas such as quantum mechanics, the structure of atoms, or early understandings of new universes and dimensions, all represented by things like white hot lights orbiting at great speeds in front of the camera, or colourful explosions that feel almost plasma like. Something about the design felt like they were experiments done in a classroom, only these were manipulated with incredible beauty to emphasize their scale, speed and impact. They were a breathtaking physical and visual representation of how Oppenheimer could “hear the music” - the great symphony of the universe. The same applies to the main set piece of the film, the detonation of the atomic bomb, which felt incredibly realistic and highlighted the raw power of such a device.

The sound design is equally impressive and often serves to enhance the visuals by emphasizing their sheer power and beauty. The atomic bomb detonation scene showed the impact that silence can have. Basking in the sheer brightness of the explosion, the audience as well as the cast watch in silence, until the deafening boom of the explosion finally catches up to what we see (the interplay of physics concepts coming through in filmmaking choices is an excellent touch). The sound design was also an important narrative and character tool that helped explore Oppenheimer’s mental and emotional state throughout the film, often giving quite dramatic juxtaposition between his actions and his thoughts. A great example of this was a scene in which Oppenheimer was giving a speech to the workers on the Manhattan project after the success of the bomb dropping on Japan. Finishing a rousing speech that had everyone cheering and clapping, the audience applause is almost instantly muted to make way for a deafening scream, presumably the sound of someone experiencing the bomb being dropped on them. What follows is a slow distortion of the scene to show moments of people in tears and having their skin wiped away. Its an incredible use of both sound and visuals that remind Oppenheimer of the destructive capability of the weapon, a weapon that everyone is celebrating as a wonderful achievement.

What I found particularly interesting is that the score itself was very string heavy and focused on providing quick melodies, perfectly blending the typical sound of Nolan’s up-tempo and thrilling movies, with Oppenheimer’s more grounded and period-drama-esque tone. Other elements in the score displace and unsettle the viewer, as if something could go wrong at any moment. The pulsating thumps, rumbling bellows, high-toned beeps, and crackling noises sprinkled throughout serve this effect well, replicating the technological innovation of atomic physics, and providing a grit to the otherwise realistic narrative and grounded dialogue scenes. I was also delighted to see that Nolan has finally found the right balance in the mix between sound and dialogue. He had been getting a reputation for making films that audiences just couldn’t hear, and whether he was making an intentional creative choice, I think it’s appropriate to acknowledge that if audiences aren’t getting your creative message, then maybe it’s not very good. In Oppenheimer, however, this isn’t an issue, and the moments in the mix where dialogue was quieter made sense, and were used to strong effect.

I’ve been fairly reflective on the great things about Oppenheimer, of which there are many. Yet it’s also imperative we focus on what was bad, because I do not believe Oppenheimer is a perfect film. For starters, some of the casting choices were quite strange, and many of the background characters’ performances were lackluster. I’d even go so far to say that Emily Blunt’s portrayal as Oppenheimer’s wife, Kitty, was quite poor. And the performances from big names such as Rami Malek, Matt Damon, Casey Affleck, and Dane DeHaan, were missing some originality and depth. It felt as though they didn’t fully embody the roles, as if anyone could have played them to that effect.

A more pressing concern of mine is something that Oppenheimer has made clear to me is an issue regarding all of Nolan’s work that I’ve seen. And that issue is that Nolan doesn’t understand how to write or direct women. In Oppenheimer, Nolan builds a profile of women that sees them incompatible with understanding the implications of decision making, and he sets them on paths that are strictly in service to the male figures. Kitty’s drunken nature is never fully explained, and her constant panicky outbursts place her into the “hypercrazy, angry woman” stereotype. Even when she is able to exercise some of her own agency in combatting Oppenheimer’s interrogator through a feisty battle of wit and words, it's all in service of supporting Oppenheimer. Likewise, Oppenheimer’s pseudo-mistress, Jean Tatlock, played by Florence Pugh, despite all her supposed intellect, drive and determination, succumbs to relying heavily on Oppenheimer for guidance and emotional support. When I look back across Nolan’s films (at least that I’ve seen), I can’t identify any female characters of great significance or that were written particularly well. The women from the Dark Knight trilogy were all terribly written and were never provided any real agency, Interstellar showcased no women of consequence, and while Inception’s Ariadne, played by Elliot Page, was fine, she did nothing to invigorate the film. Where I might find a challenge is in Memento’s, Natalie, played by Carrie-Anne Moss. Her character was at least interesting and was provided agency within the narrative to shape and control the outcomes of the protagonist.

These are not problems simply for the sake of it. These are problems because poor writing and directing of women shows a deep flaw in the characterization of real people and real characters. Especially in the case of Oppenheimer, Nolan also commits an injustice by devaluing the importance and value of women in shaping historical events and trends. Even if the film is about “Oppenheimer,” to ignore the significance of women in shaping his life and the development of the atomic and nuclear technologies provides a disservice to history and to women. Overall, this issue reveals an auteur who should reflect and re-evaluate the way in which women are portrayed in his films, because his films are suffering for it.

Put succinctly, Oppenheimer is simply a masterclass of non-linear storytelling. It’s intriguing, calculated and compelling, making viewers itch to have that revelation of how the disjointed sequences come together. Coupled with stimulating sound design and inventive visuals which only serve to make the narrative even more fluid and engaging, Oppenheimer keeps you on the edge of your seat across its three-hour runtime. This is what Nolan does best. Yet, whilst Nolan has addressed the issue of poor sound mixing in his previous films, Oppenheimer is not a perfect film, falling victim to his consistent failure to resolve the poor handling of his films’ female characters. It’s a real shame, because this is what stops Oppenheimer just shy of true greatness. Whilst acknowledging its issues, it’s hard to deny that Oppenheimer amounts to one of the best cinematic experiences Hollywood has treated us to in years.