The Surprising Restraint of Christopher Nolan

J. Robert Oppenheimer is such a fitting protagonist for Christopher Nolan that it feels written in the stars for Oppenheimer to be his first stab at a biopic. Here is another brilliant man tortured by the enormous cost his obsessive work exacts on himself and those around him: a dilemma Nolan has explored through everything from feuding magicians (The Prestige) to thieves of the subconscious (Inception) to cosmic explorers (Interstellar). Nolan’s obvious preoccupations in his films—another concerns his ongoing fascination with the concept of time—can elicit strong reactions, both good and bad, from moviegoers. For Nolan die-hards, he’s one of the most skilled big-budget technicians this side of Stanley Kubrick; for Nolan detractors, he’s something of a one-trick pony who couldn’t write a compelling female character to save his life. (Personally, I lean more toward the pro-Nolan camp, even as I fail to understand the adoration for Inception. Don’t sleep on The Prestige, though!)