It seems somewhat late in the day to be writing about Christopher Nolan’s latest film, Oppenheimer. In part, that is because my emotions and reflections have turned out to be just as complex as Nolan’s own narrative. I have been searching for clarity.
I will therefore get straight to the point. If you will forgive the hyperbole, in my view Nolan’s epic, despite its multi-layered narrative and wonderous cinematic creativity, is deeply disappointing. That is because it is the only film in history that we expected to bomb but in reality, lacked impact. Whilst I find myself questioning whether I should go back and rewatch the film for anything that I have missed, one of the most telling markers of good storytelling is that you are so drawn in that you cannot fail to take its themes home. Even without being particularly visceral, a good film will return to you and invade your thoughts when you are back home doing the hoovering.
Piecing together the narrative
In the case of Oppenheimer, my only thoughts were ones whereby I was trying to piece the narrative together. In order to enjoy this film you will need to understand the historical context in which it takes place. Heck, you may even find it easier to read the text from which the film was inspired, American Prometheus (Bird & Sherwin, 2021) in order to be adequately prepared. Oppenheimer was the architect of the atomic bomb, in a race against time, developing a weapon that could arguably end World War II before our enemies made their own advances. He was a theoretical physicist who displayed some uncomfortable personality traits – including, according to the film, lacing his lecturers lunchbox apple with cyanide. He was a hero one minute, but derided the next. President Trueman, for example was unimpressed whe Oppenheimer shared his concern that he felt he had blood on his hands, famously derriding Oppenheimer as a ‘cry-baby’. Oppenheimer’s reluctance to support the further development of a hydrogen bomb, as the United States hurtled towards a cold war, led some politicians to be sceptical of his support – and the easiest way to disempower him was to question his loyalty to the states by suggesting he had communist sympathies and may have leaked secrets to the Russians. This set in motion an enquiry as to whether he remained suitable to continue working for the United States Atomic Energy Commission.
Perhaps it is the way that my mind works; as I viewed the film I had to think back to my university lectures in Physical Chemistry, trying to remember the composition of the bomb, and how the nuclear material needed to be refined (illustrated by an increasing load of two sets of marbles in a two fish bowls). If this were a lecture, and I was in the audience listening, I would have been sitting there nodding politely, perhaps even smiling whilst wondering whether I was the only one not quite understanding what was being said. It was like reaching the point in a Maths lesson where you are really not following, and the teacher has no idea. This way in which the narrative of this film weaves about is a nightmare! It is filled with flash-forwards, and flashbacks, in colour and black and white, with I believe, colour representing the memories of one of Oppenheimer’s detractors, Richard Strauss. And yes, I did not realise that until I read a review from someone else. Significantly, YouTube and the internet are full of articles that break down and explain the narrative.
A crime against humanity
My primary concern is that I didn’t feel a profound sense of Oppenheimer’s moral turmoil following the bombings. We should be acutely aware of the sheer devastation caused by the uranium fission bomb (‘Little Boy,’ equivalent to 15,000 tons of TNT) on Hiroshima and the plutonium implosion bomb (‘Fat Man,’ equivalent to 21,000 tons of TNT) on Nagasaki. This knowledge should be seizmic in our souls.
Fat Boy U.S. Department of Defense, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
The wide variation in the death toll stems from the inadequate record-keeping at the time. Estimates range from 129,000 to 226,000, complicated further by the distinction between immediate casualties and those succumbing to radiation poisoning. What I want to emphasize is that although Oppenheimer’s flashbacks touch upon this terror, it is presented fleetingly, assuming that the audience is already aware of the unimaginable scale of destruction caused by these weapons.
This, in my opinion, is the major flaw in “Oppenheimer.” In fact, judging by the numerous explanatory articles and videos available online, you might find yourself needing a manual to decipher this film before delving into introspection. I may be simplifying things, especially considering the film’s title is “Oppenheimer” – centered on the individual rather than the bomb itself. Nevertheless, even when Oppenheimer’s opposition to the United States developing a hydrogen fusion bomb becomes evident, the lack of vivid description (beyond cold facts and figures) of what ground zero looks like for a ‘typical’ nuclear bomb means that the audience can’t fully grasp the gravity of the situation and the depth of Oppenheimer’s emotions. Time Magazine, citing a nuclear engineer at Berkeley University in California, underscores that a hydrogen bomb would possess a hundred to a thousand times more destructive power. [2]
A missed opportunity to tell the story to younger generations
Regrettably, this film is rated 15 in the UK instead of 12A. While I acknowledge that the themes in this film are mature and warrant parental guidance, I believe that the ages between 12 and 15 are crucial for helping young individuals contemplate actions, consequences, and the world around them. The language used is relatively mild, but there are instances of obscenities. Similarly, the intimate scenes, though mild and potentially relevant in terms of conscience and key narrative themes, come across as overly clever and, in a way, overly theatrical. This approach diminishes the gravity of these moments and, frankly, feels somewhat absurd.
For instance, in one scene, Oppenheimer’s relationship with Gene Tatlock, who is also having relations with the Communist Party USA, is depicted with them in bed. Oppenheimer’s mind seems preoccupied with theoretical physics and matters of conscience, while Gene takes control of the situation by sitting on top of him, grabbing the Bhagavad Gita from a shelf above his head, and reciting the line “Now I am become death, the destroyer of souls.” This phrase is, of course, repeated by Oppenheimer later. In another scene, Gene and Robert sit naked, facing each other, as a portrayal of the competing desires between Gene and Kitty (Oppenheimer’s wife) begins to unfold, with Gene vying for dominance in their love triangle. These scenes are not explicit or titillating; they are more commonplace, peculiar, and a sophisticated, creative effort to highlight Oppenheimer’s character flaws and how he is both the instigator and victim of his own inner turmoil. They certainly do not offer gratuitous moments through pornography. I’m not convinced that they add significantly to the script, and I believe they could be portrayed differently for a younger audience.
While I’m tempted to delve into the discussion of what content should be accessible at various age levels, my main point is that even if the film did underscore the gravity of the nuclear experimentation and the ethical dilemmas it raised, its UK age rating makes it inaccessible to those under the age of 15. Nevertheless, I strongly believe that our young people should be as well-informed about the threat of nuclear warfare as they are about the Holocaust. “Oppenheimer” represents a missed opportunity, especially with its release date on July 21, 2023, so close to Hiroshima Day on August 6th. [3]
A cult following?
While the film may not have a significant impact in certain areas, I have no doubt that it will gain a dedicated following. It’s not entirely accurate to call it a “cult following” because the film isn’t meant for mere entertainment; rather, it’s a vehicle for understanding how personality, conscience, power, authority, and consequences intersect. It delves into the connections between theory, practice, and perceived risk, as well as ethics and utilitarianism.
Oppenheimer is initially celebrated for his work at Los Alamos but later faces derision from those who question his loyalty. Strauss is motivated to undermine Oppenheimer after witnessing a conversation between Oppenheimer and Einstein, which leaves Einstein seemingly indifferent towards Strauss. This eventually leads to Oppenheimer losing his security clearance. However, Strauss’s ambitions for a senior political role are thwarted when it becomes clear that his vindictiveness, exposed for all to see, was the driving force behind this move. Consequently, Strauss fails to garner enough votes in the Senate for his appointment. This power struggle, rather than the ethics of nuclear warfare, becomes the central lens through which the story unfolds.
Ultimately, Oppenheimer is finally recognized for his achievements by John F. Kennedy. In all of this, Einstein’s earlier words to Oppenheimer, that he will be praised for his actions because they benefit those who applaud him, prove to be true. After unleashing the nuclear bomb, Oppenheimer becomes a pawn in a political game. Therefore, the film’s reluctance to help viewers step into the narrative by providing a clearer backstory is what prevents it from making a more profound impact. Regarding the bomb’s impact, longer moments of reflection, possibly with silence, showcasing the devastation and fires, could have underscored this point. Such scenes don’t have to be visceral; they simply need to be telling.
Looking for the spiritual core
For those seeking a deeper, spiritual reflection on the significance of Oppenheimer’s story, CBS News provides profound insights through a 1965 interview. Oppenheimer’s responses to the newscaster’s questions followed a somewhat expected pattern: he viewed the bomb as a necessary evil, a harsh measure taken with reluctance, aimed at preventing further suffering. He candidly admitted, “You naturally don’t think of that with ease. I do not think our consciences should be entirely easy.” However, a sense of caution pervades Oppenheimer’s responses. He appears to sidestep personal reflections and instead emphasizes the collective conscience of the era. Based on the information available to him in both 1945 and 1965, Oppenheimer seemed to believe that the use of the bombs was justifiable.
Nonetheless, I was deeply struck by the contrast between corporate and personal conscience. Regardless of the rational arguments constructed by others to justify the use of the bomb, did it still conflict with Oppenheimer’s personal conscience at the time, even if it seemed rational on the surface? Regrettably, this is a question that remains unanswered, as Oppenheimer carried it with him to the grave and beyond, leaving us with a perpetual ethical dilemma.
Curiously, just as the film inadequately references historical context, it also fails to explore the divine or our responsibility to it, except for Oppenheimer’s misquoted words from the Bhagavad Gita, which the audience is left to interpret. It’s worth noting that this Hindu epic involves its hero, Prince Arjuna, conversing with Krishna, an incarnation of the god Vishnu, who is the preserver and protector of the universe in Hinduism. Arjuna is uncertain about how to handle a family conflict, and Krishna convinces him to fight. However, when Krishna reveals his true power, the world seems to burn (to borrow your phrase), and Arjuna pleads with him to stop. In this sense, Krishna to Arjuna is what nuclear research is to science—initially desiring the benefits but recoiling once realizing the destructive force unleashed. The parallels between these narratives are striking.
Oppenheimer harnesses nuclear science but is cautious about the consequences and where it might lead. However, the film unfortunately doesn’t delve further into this aspect to shed light on Oppenheimer’s awareness of his accountability to the divine. It seems that featuring Oppenheimer’s reference to one of Hinduism’s sacred texts should prompt consideration of the idea that regardless of our individual beliefs about God, there is more at play here than a limited human-centered ethical conversation.
Oppenheimer, and Physicists ‘knowing sin’
Interestingly, Oppenheimer did speak of sin relatively soon after the bombings, and so it would have been possible to begin to enter this territory. Personally, I would not be looking for the film to do more than introduce the question – because we can reflect on it in the car park later. But to close, during his 1965 CBS interview, Oppenheimer stated:
“Long ago I said once in a crude sense, in which no vulgarity and no humour could quite erase, that ‘Physicists had known sin’. I didn’t mean by that the deaths that were caused by the result of our work. We had known the sin of pride. We had turned to effect in what proved to be a major way the course of man’s history. We had the pride of thinking that we knew what was good for man, and I do think that this has left a mark of many of those of those who were responsibly engaged. This is not the natural business of a scientist.”
Regrettably, from my perspective, while “Oppenheimer” possessed considerable beauty, creativity, and an unmatched level of sophistication within its intricate and multilayered narrative, it failed to make the impact it should have. It may not be a total disaster, but it certainly fell short of expectations. “Oppenheimer” runs the risk of fading into obscurity and becoming “Forgottendheimer” because it places too little emphasis on the crucial ethical question of whether it is morally justifiable to use nuclear weapons and the complex personalities and dynamics that are involved in making such a decision.
[1] Atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – Wikipedia
[2] https://time.com/4954082/hydrogen-bomb-atomic-bomb/
[3] https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2023/08/06/japan/hiroshima-attomic-bombing-78th-anniversary/
[4] (26) From the archives: Robert Oppenheimer in 1965 on if the bomb was necessary – YouTube 2:15