Destroyer of Worlds

Intro

I recently watched Oppenheimer, the latest cinematic offering by acclaimed [blockbuster] director Christopher Nolan.

The complexity of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s life and his significant impact on history is undeniable. Equally indisputable is the profound effect of his (and many others) actions on the communities in and around Los Alamos, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, which we will delve into in due course.

I walked into the cinema hall fully aware of this and watched it with this context at the back of my mind.

The Movie

There are plenty of valid criticisms about the movie, but I need to highlight something first. You know when you write an academic paper and have to write a section called scope? We’re gonna do that here.

What is this movie not about?

• BIPOC
• Franklin D. Roosevelt
• Harry Truman
• Japan and Japanese Americans
• Mussolini’s Italy
• Nuclear proliferation
• Psychotic depravity of Western imperialism
• War

What is it about?

It is primarily a character study of J. Robert Oppenheimer, with the above themes serving as peripheral elements to the director’s main focus.

A recurring theme throughout the film is detachment. The Father of the Atom Bomb is shown to be detached from his family life, most of his colleagues’ personal feelings, the Indigenous and Latin American communities at Los Alamos, World War II and the devastating consequences of the actual bombs,

I appreciated the director’s decision not to depict the actual deployment of the bombs, as it would have disrupted the narrative flow. The film’s expert craftsmanship is likely to earn it numerous accolades during the awards season, although it failed to engage the woman sitting on my left, who dozed off for about half of it.

On the technical side, the sound design is exceptional, and the cinematography is equally praiseworthy. The cinematography employs two distinct color grading techniques: full color, representing subjectivity as the camera stays focused on Oppenheimer, and black & white, symbolizing objectivity, primarily drawn from historical records. Both approaches contribute uniquely to the storytelling.

But….

Indigenous & Latin Americans

It’s worth noting that several affected communities did attempt to engage with Nolan and his team during the film’s development. However, neither side has disclosed reasons for the ensuing silence from the filmmakers.

In Nolan’s nearly four-hour epic, this topic is scarcely touched upon, and when it is, it doesn’t address the significant upheaval experienced by the local communities. Instead, it’s encapsulated in a single question posed to Oppenheimer about the future of the land after the Trinity test. His response is something along the lines of, “Give it back to the Indians.”

Folks, choices were made 🤨

In my view, this narrative deserves its dedicated film rather than serving as a mere footnote in the story of another white man. Incorporating it into this context would demand a level of thoughtfulness and conscientiousness that might prove challenging, considering the film’s primary focus and Oppenheimer’s perspective of these issues as peripheral.

Today, many New Mexicans have a complex relationship with the Los Alamos National Lab, which employs over 10,000 people. Attitudes toward the lab vary, with some people supporting it at times and opposing it at others. Are all those working there today accountable for the ongoing repercussions of the Trinity test and other activities? The answer is both yes and no.

But really, there’s no straightforward answer here. While scientific advancements can often be violent, challenging and beset by ethical dilemmas, it’s crucial not to separate morality from actions. It’s a complex issue.

The Japanese

I’ve heard from Japanese friends and acquaintances that certain parts of the movie brought them to tears.

The film’s emotional impact is understandable given the historical context. The dropping of two atomic bombs, which led to the deaths of thousands of civilians, left an enduring scar on Japan’s collective consciousness (think Godzilla as an example). It’s a wonder Fukushima was even built.

Should any bomb of that magnitude have been dropped? The answer is a resounding no. It was a poor decision back then, and we have benefitted from decades of analysis since that has more than confirmed this.

Could the outcome of the Pacific front have been different? Perhaps. There are too many variables to know for sure. However, the reality is that the Japanese Imperial Army committed numerous atrocities across Asia during that period, and one could argue (although it’s a contentious topic and one probably shouldn’t) that these would have continued without the bombing. Even today, Japan still wants the Philippines to forget its wartime atrocities as a part of healing and moving forward. Don’t even get me started on the Japanese government’s official stance on comfort women (spoiler: they continuously claim that they were sex workers).

There’s a global lack of awareness about the extent and involvement of Japanese war crimes. People often suggest that surrender, whether conditional or not, would have resulted in less suffering. However, this is not so clear-cut considering the death toll in the Pacific and on the Asian mainland.

And let’s not forget about the possible trajectory of the lingering empire and military had they have been allowed to retain the Emperor and more visible remnants of the Imperial Expansionist era under a conditional surrender. The 1967 film “Japan’s Longest Day” illustrates how the Japanese government deliberated over their response to the Potsdam Declaration and the eventual surrender over a period of time. During which, some members of the Japanese military attempted a coup and mutiny in an [unsuccessful] effort to depose the Emperor and prevent the transmission of the recording of his surrender.

History is fucked up. It’s just choices of different atrocities all the way down.

The Germans

Watching this movie in Germany, with many Germans in the audience, was a surreal experience. I cannot even begin to fathom the emotions they felt throughout the entire movie.

Given the context of history, it’s important to acknowledge that had Hitler not chosen to take his own life, or if the tides of war had shifted differently in the months leading up to his death, it might well have been Germany facing the devastation of atomic bombings. However, it’s undeniable that there was a distinct racial element at play in how the approach to Japan was carried out.

The dichotomy between Germany and Japan during World War II is a compelling one. Both nations were major Axis powers, and both were responsible for significant wartime atrocities. Yet, when it came to the application of atomic weaponry, there was a marked contrast in approach.

Germany’s surrender in May 1945 did not result in atomic bombings. The reasons behind this were multifaceted. At the time of Germany’s capitulation, the United States had not yet successfully tested an atomic bomb. The Manhattan Project, the effort to develop the bomb, was a closely guarded secret. Additionally, Germany was already defeated in Europe, and the focus was shifting towards the Pacific theatre, where Japan remained a formidable adversary.

Japan’s situation was unique. By the time Germany surrendered, the U.S. had both tested and possessed atomic weapons. The decision to employ these weapons against Japan, specifically over the cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, was heavily debated (but not shown on film) and remains a topic of controversy to this day.

There’s an undeniable racial element intertwined with this decision. Japan was portrayed differently in the American imagination compared to Germany. The concept of the “Yellow Peril” was prevalent, depicting Asians as a menace, which contributed to a then-dehumanizing view of the Japanese. This perception, however flawed, influenced the decision to drop atomic bombs in some way.

In contrast, the surrender of Germany is associated more with the end of European conflict rather than the need to utilize atomic weaponry. The outcome of the war in Europe, coupled with the circumstances surrounding the Manhattan Project, led to this difference in approach.

Final Thoughts

Art doesn’t always have to center around morally good characters, but it does run the risk of inadvertently glorifying them, especially when crafted by those who may have benefited from their actions. We’re living in an era where media literacy is not universally high. Many viewers tend to equate a piece of media’s focus on a character with an endorsement of that character’s actions. This phenomenon is observable in the cases of characters like Walter White, Eren Yeager, Scott Pilgrim + Ramona Flowers, Carrie Bradshaw, Larry David, and more. So, yes, I understand the concerns about optics.

The film leans more sympathetically towards J. Robert Oppenheimer than some might readily admit, especially with the revelations regarding Strauss’s machinations in the final third of its runtime. See below:

“In a great number of cases I have seen Dr. Oppenheimer act — I understood that Dr. Oppenheimer acted - in a way which for me was exceedingly hard to understand. I thoroughly disagreed with him on numerous issues and his actions frankly appeared to me confused and complicated. To this extent, I feel that I would like to see the vital interests of this country in hands which I understand better, and therefore trust more. In this very limited sense I would like to express a feeling that I would feel personally more secure if public matters would rest in other hands.” — Edward Teller

Some argue that a title card or an epilogue might have been appropriate. Maybe they’re right. I’ve never been involved in the film industry, and I don’t know how these conversations would have gone. But I do think that it does not mean the film lacks virtues and should be avoided.

The problem with many analyses of “Oppenheimer” is that they privilege certain perspectives, namely that of the oppressed as the “true” perspective, and dismiss all others as flawed. This approach is overly simplistic and lumps together films critical of US imperialism (like Apocalypse Now and Full Metal Jacket) with films ambivalent or sympathetic to US imperialism (like Zero Dark Thirty and Hurt Locker), despite their clear differences.

Such an approach creates unnecessary divisions and prematurely dismisses artistic works without giving them a chance. The assumption that a film from the viewpoint of an oppressor soldier must be inherently flawed is reductive. It’s crucial to recognize that a film represents a specific perspective and isn’t meant to encompass all viewpoints. Striving for a film that captures every perspective is unrealistic and would likely be even more misleading.

”Oppenheimer” stands as a well-crafted dramatization of one of history’s most influential figures. It tells a coherent story without veering off course for meta-moralizing purposes. It’s essential to remember that the film never claimed to be a documentary. The bulk of our criticism (and ire) should primarily target the incomplete history we are taught worldwide, rather than the film itself.

PS: There’s the concern of overexposure to American war or war-related films. I recommend exploring alternatives like BBC’s “Threads,” “Grave of the Fireflies,” “The Act of Killing,” and “The Look of Silence.” Afterwards, take a leisurely, reflective walk and be kind to yourself.

Addendum

• The Navajo Suffered From Nuclear Testing. Oppenheimer Doesn’t Tell Our Story
• Trinity Nuclear Test’s Fallout Reached 46 States, Canada and Mexico, Study Finds
• The Black scientists behind the Manhattan Project, the atomic bomb program that inspired the movie ‘Oppenheimer’
• The impact of Los Alamos on the Hispanic community
• The women behind the Manhattan Project that Nolan’s new film ‘Oppenheimer’ completely ignored
• ‘Oppenheimer’ doesn’t show us Hiroshima and Nagasaki. That’s an act of rigor, not erasure