Anastasia Ievlev

Of course, we’re talking about Oppenheimer (2023). Christopher Nolan has long been drawn to this triumphant yet tragic story of the atomic bomb’s creation, based on the book American Prometheus.

This story is deeply personal for Nolan—he grew up in the 1980s, convinced that he would die in a nuclear explosion. Back then, the world was thick with atomic anxiety. It’s eerie how Oppenheimer premiered just as nuclear fears surged globally, even though filming began long before such tensions resurfaced. But that’s how art works—it often reflects reality with uncanny precision.

What fascinated Nolan most about this project was the emotional weight of a man confronting the fate of humanity itself. That’s why he wrote the script in the first person. He wanted to experience what Oppenheimer felt, to get inside his mind, and tell the story not from the outside, but from within.

The Eternal War of the Destroyer of Worlds

Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

This is what ran through Oppenheimer’s mind during the first atomic bomb test. Everyone present knew the world would never be the same.

Neither would Oppenheimer. He was a genius, but like many brilliant minds, he was full of contradictions and locked in a lifelong inner battle.

Cillian Murphy portrays this duality masterfully. Oppenheimer was haunted by psychological turmoil. The world he sought to destroy most was his own. He smoked obsessively, ultimately leading to his death. He had affairs with his friends’ wives, spiraled into depression, escaped reality, and at times, was volatile and aggressive.

After Hiroshima, his struggles only deepened—both internally and externally. Through these tensions, Nolan unpacks the sheer complexity of his life.

A chain reaction of inner turmoil inevitably leads to an external catastrophe.

Lost in the Quantum Universe of Possibilities

You’re looking far beyond the world we live in. And that comes at a price.

Oppenheimer had a rare gift—he saw what others couldn’t. He intuitively predicted many breakthroughs in quantum physics, not just because of his scientific prowess, but because he had a broad and multifaceted mind. He wasn’t just a physicist—he was deeply interested in philosophy and religion.

This intellectual depth expanded his analytical abilities—what we might call intuition. He could grasp multiple possibilities, envision different realities, and foresee the trajectory of events. But not their consequences.

This is why Oppenheimer was both brilliant and dangerously naive—a contradiction that ultimately damaged his reputation.

In one of the film’s most striking moments, years later, we see him shift his stance on nuclear warfare. It suggests that the horror of Hiroshima sobered him—that, perhaps, he finally matured enough to understand the true weight of his actions. But by then, it was far too late.

A Tenet-Like Argument for Relativity

In Tenet (2020), Nolan encoded the Latin palindrome SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS, used by early Christians. It translates to «The Great Sower’s work is in his hands.»

Similarly, the phrase «Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds» holds deeper meaning. In its original context, Death can also be interpreted as Time—a recurring theme in all of Nolan’s films.

Oppenheimer once described the explosion in New Mexico by saying:

If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once in the sky, that would be like the splendor of the Mighty One.

At that moment, he had yet to grasp the irreversible chain reaction he had set in motion.

But later, he did—judging by his final conversation with Einstein:

Do you remember when I brought you my calculations? The ones where the chain reaction never stops?

The central paradox of Oppenheimer’s story is that he was fundamentally against war and the practical use of nuclear weapons. He created the bomb to end the war, but in doing so, he ignited an unstoppable arms race. A Chekhov’s gun that, one day, might still fire.

The force you’re about to unleash will outlive the Nazis. And the world isn’t ready for it.

This is the duality of Oppenheimer’s legacy. Was it good or evil? Where is the line between the two?

His story suggests there is no line—only infinite perspectives of the same reality.

Everything is relative.

Breaking Down Nolan’s Signature Style—Atom by Atom

The multi-layered storytelling in Oppenheimer is pure Nolan. It’s present in all his films.

He often blends physics with philosophy, as seen in Tenet, Interstellar, and Inception—all of which connect to Oppenheimer’s story.

Quantum physics isn’t a step forward. It’s a new way of perceiving reality.

Nolan also frequently plays with time, using fragmented narratives where past, present, and future intertwine—like in Dunkirk and Oppenheimer.

In this film, time is color-coded:

• Before the bomb – full color.
• After the bomb – black and white.
• Robert’s perspective – in color.
• The world’s perspective on him – in black and white.

This contrast isn’t just aesthetic—it’s thematic.

The Power of Practical Cinema

Nolan remains committed to practical effects and film stock, avoiding CGI whenever possible—a style that’s quickly becoming a trend in modern filmmaking.

His signature elements:

🎬 Tactile, real-world effects – no digital bomb, no VFX shortcuts.
🔊 Perfected sound design – the explosion sequence is pure cinematic ASMR.
🎥 Masterful camera work – Hoyte van Hoytema’s cinematography is deliberate and restrained, with minimal movement.
✂ Rapid pacing in editing – particularly in the first half, where Nolan compresses Oppenheimer’s entire life into a single film. Despite this, the movie still feels deliberately slow.

The action unfolds in the dialogue—which is why the second viewing (especially in your native language) hits harder than the first.

Christopher Nolan: A Filmmaking Genius

After Oppenheimer, you’ll want to rewatch all of his films.

Because this isn’t just cinema—it’s a masterclass in storytelling.

Every frame, every cut, every word—meticulously crafted, woven into a seamless cinematic language.