REVIEW: "Oppenheimer: Or How I Stopped Worrying and Love Toxic Masculinity."

SPOILER ALERT: None really, unless you've never heard about the creation of an atomic bomb. In which case, maybe a rendezvous with your high school history text? Oops! I did it again.

*******

Well, there's three hours (plus 20 minutes of trailers) of my life that I can't get back. Not that all of the three hours was wasted time, mind you. Actually, I'd only ask back the 20 minutes of trailers: The Marvels, The Expend4bles, Gran Turismo, The Exorcist: Believer, The Nun 2.

Seriously, what do (bad) action/adventure and horror movies have to do with Christopher Nolan's uber-historical biopic, Oppenheimer? That's mostly a rhetorical question, but the truth is, there's a lot of crap out there in theaters today passing for cinema, much of it designed to entice video gamers and violence voyeurs into the theater. Ugh.

About Oppenheimer. As the movie began, I couldn't help but think of this quote from William Shakespeare (I actually used it in my high school valedictory speech):

Ambition's like a circle on the water,

Which never ceases to enlarge itself.

'Till by broad spreading it disperses to naught.

The opening and near-closing images in Oppenheimer show droplets of water on a pond near The Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University, where we soon see financier Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey, Jr.), founding member and later Chair of the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) and J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) meet to discuss an academic appointment for J. Robert. As they are talking, Oppenheimer spots a familiar figure near the pond. It is the iconic physicist Albert Einstein (Tom Conti), whom Oppenheimer knows and so he rushes to speak to his friend, much to the dismay of Strauss, who is convinced Oppenheimer said something negative about him to Einstein.

That seemingly impromptu encounter - and another off-hand comment Oppenheimer makes about Strauss' family - will be two of the components that contribute to a long-standing grudge Strauss will hold against Oppenheimer. The third is a public comment Oppenheimer made about Strauss in a1947 hearing on atomic energy in which he dismissed Strauss' concerns about exporting radioisotopes.

The stuff history is made of: petty differences and perceived personal affronts.

Oppenheimer generally follows journalist/biographer Kai Bird and historian Martin J. Sherwin's Pulitzer-Prize winning 2006 book, American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer. Strauss and Oppenheimer's complex relationship forms the core for most of writer/director Nolan's narrative but, unlike the book, the story unfolds in non-linear fashion, weaving back and forth, in black-and-white and color, in time and space, between Oppenheimer's 1954 appeal hearing to reinstate his security clearance (which had been revoked), and Strauss' Senate confirmation hearings for a Cabinet position (Secretary of Commerce) in 1959. Context and background about the development of the atomic bomb, Oppenheimer's personal and professional life, and the disintegration of his friendship with Strauss are inserted in flashbacks and flash forwards.

Overall, the mood in Oppenheimer is one of understated intensity, punctuated by flashes of stars imploding, supernovas shining, atomic bombs exploding in spectacular color across the sky. This is a serious film about a serious subject led by a serious academic, and the gravitas weighs heavily in every scene.

In re-imagining "the Father of the Atomic Bomb," Nolan has crafted a thorough and thoroughly engaging up-close glimpse of Oppenheimer as a flawed genius, as well as the politics and the behind-the-scenes intrigue that dominated the era of Atomic Energy and after. Except for a questionable (it was never-substantiated) apple poisoning episode that supposedly occurred when a homesick J. Robert was humiliated by Professor Patrick Blackett while studying at Cambridge, the movie is accurate historically, taking few liberties with facts and focusing more on themes involving the price of ambition, the consequences of integrity, the presence of anti-Semitism, and the impact of nuclear energy on the course of history.

These are pretty lofty themes - and lots of them - which forces Nolan into a constant balancing act: juggling Oppenheimer's ambition with his personal life dramas (he was known to be a womanizer), justifying his integrity about whether to use a nuclear weapon against Japan at the end of World War II against his desire to influence post-war policy, understanding how his left-wing political tendencies influenced attempts to blacklist him in the 1950s, placing the trial detonation of the bomb opposite imagined consequences of its effect.

That's where Nolan the historian needs to be more discerning in his choices, and where sometimes Nolan the filmmaker exerts more force. When I was in graduate school, one of the things that was embedded in me as a fledgling historian was to make a determination between what was important and what wasn't. Otherwise, you'll be lost in research limbo and never finish any project. Or, worse, you'll parcel together a hodgepodge of information that lacks coherence and focus.

Nolan doesn't fall into either one of those categories, but a few times he becomes dangerously close to developing what I call "Spielberg-itis," or the tendency to keep hammering home a point that's already been made, AKA "conclusion interruptus." This problem surfaces in the film's third act when, during Oppenheimer's 1954 appeal hearing, witness after colleague after spouse after friend after witness is called in to testify - and we hear each and every one of them. The film's final 45 minutes could have benefitted from tighter editing that would have more effectively built the two climatic decisions for Oppenheimer and Strauss to a more satisfying finish. Instead, with each additional witness (save Rami Malek's Senate deposition), we sit waiting for Nolan to wrap up the various interrogations so we can get on with the story.

Nolan can't always seem to separate the critical information from the more salacious episodes in Oppenheimer's life. Granted, few people live a compartmentalized life that neatly organizes work, personal relationships, hopes and dreams, but imaging a scene in which Oppenheimer's wife Kitty (Emily Blunt), while sitting as an observer at Oppenheimer's appeal hearing, imagines him having sex with his now deceased mistress Jean Tatlock (Florence Pugh), is so over-the-top, one wonders what new layer of understanding Nolan was hoping to create.

The other problem with Nolan's script is the need to tell too much. Basically, he has constructed a story around the dual hearings for Oppenheimer and Strauss, and how those two events defined Oppenheimer's life and legacy. Clearly, the notion of genius and ambition - and how those play out amidst the backdrop of American politics and cultural bias - is the critical point to the story and Oppenheimer's legacy.

What is less important to the narrative is the sometimes plodding retelling of how the bomb was actually developed: building a town in Los Alamos, showing the actual construction of the bomb, watching Oppenheimer climb the tower to inspect the final product - some of these scenes could have been eliminated or edited to accent how they fit into the broader thematic issues that form the historical significance of Oppenheimer's life. These points may sound nitpicky, but they do make a difference between a really good film and a great one.

The historian in me was initially intrigued by what characterizes Nolan's innovative style: stunning visual effects, thought-provoking storyline - and what that would yield as a film. I couldn't help but wonder how Nolan's exhaustive research, a throwback perhaps to Oliver Stone's relentless pursuit of a definitive depiction of Richard Nixon, would render a new interpretation of a now almost-forgotten American innovator? icon? genius? As I reflect on the film, I'm not convinced that Oppenheimer sheds new light on its subject's significance, especially to the post-modern, twenty-first century world, though I do applaud Nolan for tackling Oppenheimer's important work and complex life. It is a fine film whose flaws are minimal, but sometimes just misses the wallop needed to push it into the "must-see" category.

A word of caution, too: If you are not familiar w/Oppenheimer, the development of the A-bomb and its aftermath, you may get lost in some of the rhetoric expressed here. An understanding of American history, especially at the end of World War II and after is essential - or, at least, helpful - here, though I'm not sure how many movie fans will opt to read American Prometheus. That's a lot of prep to see a movie.

As you may have gleaned from promotional ads and trailers, Oppenheimer boasts a stellar cast (one critic said there were more notable SAG-AFTRA members in the cast than you'd find in any Hollywood movie today), including Gary Oldman as Harry S Truman, and a singular, powerfully nuanced performance from Cillian Murphy in the titular role. Murphy's expressive blue eyes convey all that is going on in Oppenheimer's head and heart. He doesn't just look the part, he embodies all of Oppey's genius, foibles, challenges (personal and professional), and ethical conflicts.

Equally memorable is Robert Downey, Jr. as Lewis Strauss, the movie's "villain" and Oppenheimer's unexpected frenemy. I've long said that Downey is one of the finest actors of his generation pre-Iron Man, so you may want to stream two of his earlier, stellar performances: the title role in Chaplin (1992) which garnered him an Oscar nomination and BAFTA win, and Tropic Thunder (2008), which yielded at Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination. Expect both Murphy and Downey to be recognized during awards season, with Downey perhaps giving Ryan Gosling's Ken in Barbie stiff competition in the Supporting Actor category. Right now, I'm still Team Ryan b/c of the unique role and thoroughly compassionate interpretation Gosling brings to the screen. But, depending on how nominees are identified in a few months, there is the promise of an atypical alpha male battle royale in a supporting role.

The rest of the cast are all fine, with Matt Damon as General Leslie Groves the only other stand-out in terms of performance. I would also look for Best Picture, Best Director, Adapted Screenplay, Original Score and Cinematography nominations, depending on how strong Oppenheimer's legs are by year's end. The fall film premieres - typically the strongest contenders for awards - are yet to come, and Martin Scorsese's Killers of the Flower Moon is one that is sure to get attention.

The final item I wanted to address is Nolan's depiction of women. Most of his films, from The Dark Knight Trilogy through Inception and Dunkirk, do not showcase women in any meaningful way.

Oppenheimer is no exception, with only two women of note: Oppenheimer's wife Kitty and his mistress Jean. Both are smart, educated women (Kitty a biologist and Jean a student of literature; both are Communist supporters), yet neither seems to have any redeeming qualities: Kitty is a bitter, outspoken shrew, an alcoholic who constantly chides "Oppey" for not standing up for himself; Jean suffers from mental illness and ultimately takes her life by suicide after Oppey tells her he can no longer see her. In short, not much development of either woman.

And why do we repeatedly see Florence Pugh fully naked? Even in sex scenes w/Murphy, he is either semi-clothed or strategically covered, she is completely exposed. Maybe Nolan needs some lessons on staging and filming sex. Where is director Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name) when you need him?

At film's end, it is clear that the wedge between Strauss and Oppenheimer is the result of base male competition, kind of a "Whose dick is bigger?" contest between the two. It's toxic masculinity played out at the highest scientific/intellectual/political levels imaginable. That Strauss has the coldly-calculated patience to subvert Oppenheimer's naivete, using his personal relationships and concern for human life as weapons against him is a powerful but disappointing statement about Oppenheimer's scientific genius and the post-Atomic world, kind of a reductionist denouement to what is, arguably, the most important creation in the history of the world.

I couldn't help but wonder, too, if - in attempting too much here - Nolan might have been better served to turn Oppenheimer into a TV mini-series where he might have given more attention to some of the specific details about the A-bomb's development, personal relationships, etc., that he can do in the more time-limited movie format. Hell, Lin Manuel-Miranda managed to take Rod Chernow's 800+ page biography of Alexander Hamilton and turn it into a 2-hour musical with as much wit, bite and history as one could imagine - and told in rap verse, no less.

Maybe Nolan should have considered collaborating w/Miranda. At least the women would have had a greater voice, and we'd have been engaged in the "room where it happened." Plus, the ever-expanding droplets of water could still be used as an appropriate image/metaphor.

In a week that boasted two major Hollywood movie openings, Barbie and Oppenheimer, it's interesting that both, very different films, addressed the effects of the patriarchy and male-dominated society in dissimilar, but distinct ways. The conclusions, of course, are as diverse as their respective subjects. But the toxicity of masculinity looms large in history, and film is at the beginning of yet another exploration of its impact. The circles of ambition for cultural and historic icons (Barbie and Oppenheimer) continue to enlarge without yet dispersing into night (though Barbie's place as cultural icon may eventually prove more lasting than Oppey's).

I keep thinking about the image of Slim Pickens riding the A-bomb like a joyful cowboy in Stanley Kubrick's brilliant satire, Dr. Strangelove: Or How I Stopped Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), which now seems both light years away from and immediately relevant to Nolan's scientific opus. We'll meet again, yes? Ah, the impact of movies.

Coming soon: Theater Camp and Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning.