If Sound of Freedom (2023) is the must-see film of the year due to sheer moral imperative, Oppenheimer (2023) is simply the must-see film of the year due to its technical and artistic brilliance. If means and availability allow, see it in IMAX. The visuals and the sound are a massive part of this film, and feeling the sound of the first successful test of the atomic bomb really drives home the impact—and the implications—of this terrible new weapon.
Summarizing Oppenheimer is difficult. There is certainly a narrative—really, multiple narrative threads—that jumps between several points in Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer’s life, a form of nonlinear storytelling typical of Christopher Nolan films. The difficulty is not in summarizing the narrative threads, per se, but in giving a full sense for the film. A dry summary is possible, but Oppenheimer is one of those instances in which a straightforward summary fails to capture the spirit of the film.
To put it another way, Oppenheimer is an experience, and has to be experienced as a whole. Nolan manages to create a universe in which the audience becomes totally immersed over the course of the film’s three-hour runtime. It’s so immersive, you don’t want to budge from your seat. That’s an impressive feat for a film that is so long.
All that said, the film can be split roughly into three parts: Oppenheimer’s early career as he established quantum physics in the United States; Oppenheimer’s involvement with the Manhattan Project and the creation of the Los Alamos National Laboratory in New Mexico; and the political machinations of the 1940s and 1950s in the aftermath of the Second World War and the Soviets getting the bomb. The film cuts between these moments constantly, with a vicious and unfair series of hearings focused on the renewal of Oppenheimer’s classification status serving as a rough frame for the film’s events.
In some ways, the film mimics—although only in the broadest of ways—the narrative structure of a superhero film: the protagonist learns about his powers; puts them to use to the fullest extent; and must wrestle with the responsibility of his incredible powers. Similarly, Oppenheimer learns quantum mechanics and becomes embroiled in Left-wing political activism; successfully detonates an atomic bomb and helps end the Second World War; and attempts to come to grips with what devastating power he has unleashed upon the world.
Oppenheimer is no saint, engaging in multiple affairs (even his wife, Kitty, played wonderfully here by Emily Blunt, is a married woman whom Oppenheimer impregnates) and playing fast-and-loose in congressional hearings. But his essential naïveté also gives him a certain amusing innocence, as he is so focused on achieving scientific results, he often fails to understand the broader implications of his actions. It’s a common trope, and one to which scientists still conform, I fear: the tendency to ask can it be done without considering whether or not it should be done.
The film raises a number of ethical questions. There is, of course, the obvious and age-old debate: should the United States have used the atomic bombs on Japan? Oppenheimer initially believes it is necessary to do so to end the war and, therefore, to save more lives (the view of President Truman, portrayed in the film as a fast-talking, boorish Southerner [he was from Missouri]), but then comes to realize the devastation of the weapon. There’s also the question I alluded to above, the “can-versus-should” that should be at the heart of all scientific (and human) endeavors.
There’s also an important “Deep State” thread in the film, which is very clever on Nolan’s part. Oppenheimer is clearly railroaded in the hearings about his classification status. Everyone understands that the fix is in from the outset, and one character even questions why Oppenheimer keeps enduring the humiliation of the hearing, knowing he can’t win. It’s infuriating for us as an audience to watch this national hero pilloried by a vicious prosecutor in a series of hearings in which all standards of evidence and due process are ignored completely. Even as the prosecutor grills Oppenheimer on his past associations with the Communist Party of the United States of American (CPUSA; Oppenheimer was not a member, though his wife Kitty was for many years, as was his longtime lover, Jean Tatlock), we realize that the real totalitarians are the men persecuting Oppenheimer.
It comes out (mild spoiler alert here) that Admiral Lewis Strauss, who is enduring confirmation hearings for the position of Secretary of Commerce, ingeniously and wickedly engineered Oppenheimer’s downfall. It’s an open secret in the scientific community and Washington, but it becomes clear why Oppenheimer put himself through the hearings: testimony from Oppenheimer’s peers successfully derails Strauss’s nomination. Ultimately, Oppenheimer’s reputation is vindicated.
I’ve heard and read criticism that the last hour of Oppenheimer is a drag with all of the government hearings, but I found this part of the film very compelling. Just as Sound of Freedom shows us the horrible reality of child sex trafficking, Oppenheimer demonstrates, quite vividly, how the Deep State operates. If you’ve ever thought, “Okay, I get the concept, but how do all of these people work together to maintain their Establishment status quo,” watch the last hour of Oppenheimer. It is a storytelling masterclass on how the Washington bureaucracy maintains its power and its wicked orthodoxy. If you weren’t disillusioned about the national government before, you will be after watching Oppenheimer.
Of course, the most thrilling moment in the film is when the Los Alamos team successful detonates a nuclear bomb in the deserts of New Mexico. The build-up to the critical moment is tense and thrilling, and the rich score drops out in the unbearable seconds leading up to the detonation. After an extended silence, the sound kicks back in full blast. I remarked to a friend that “Oppenheimer has more jump scares than a crappy horror flick,” and it’s true!
There’s so much more here. There is an interesting thread about the Jewishness of various characters in an age when being Jewish was fatal in Nazi Germany and, at best, unpleasant in the United States. Even the villainous Strauss is Jewish, although he tries to downplay his heritage with a more Anglicized pronunciation of his first name. A number of the scientists around Oppenheimer are Jewish, as is Oppenheimer himself, although the great doctor seems to not dwell too much about his heritage. The devastations of the Holocaust serve as ample motivation for many of the Jewish scientists involved to help create the bomb, knowing the Nazis cannot get it first.
The major detractor is the intimidating runtime. I do miss the days of tight, ninety-minute films. But Oppenheimer‘s three-hour runtime never feels like it’s three hours. I remember one point in the film thinking, “it feels like the length of a typical movie has passed,” but I wasn’t wondering how much longer until I could go to the bathroom—ha! In other words, the film felt exactly right in terms of length, and left me completely satisfied. I do recommend nursing your drink, though, as you don’t want to miss a second of the flicks. For those with small bladders, plan accordingly!
Given the runtime, this next recommendation might seem like a big ask, but, if possible, see it twice. Even as I write this review, I realize there is much more to be said about this film, and I think a second viewing would really solidify my thoughts and interpretation. I can’t help but feel like I am missing some things in this review, ideas that were percolating vividly in the immediate aftermath of the film.
Whatever you do, see Oppenheimer.