I’ve always admired Christopher Nolan as a director. The more movies I watch, the more apparent it becomes that his movies exude an intangible quality that alludes to ‘cinema’, whilst ridding themselves of any of the word’s snobbish connotations. In doing so, Nolan’s films have gained both commercial and critical acclaim, which I must admit, still remains a mystery to me.

Much of Nolan’s directorial process seems to be completely untethered from the burdens other big-budget movie studios would have to concern themselves with, even as Nolan chooses to shoot so many of his films on expensive, bulky IMAX cameras (which can cost up to USD 16,000 in rental for a week). In this period when cinema is growing increasingly commercialized, with big studios having seemingly found the ‘formula’ to create easily digestible superhero flicks for the masses, Nolan stands apart from his contemporaries in his approach to filmmaking. More than anything, Nolan has always enjoyed exploring concepts that are alien to our reality. Be it dream heists in Inception, the smoke and shadows that blur the lines of reality and fiction in The Prestige, or literal time dilation and experiencing it as the 4th dimension in Interstellar (to name a few), these are concepts that would be difficult for audiences to comprehend even if they had the luxury of experiencing it through a book instead. Perhaps that’s why it’s so interesting to me that in spite of all of this, Nolan is a director who holds fast to his commitment to practical effects in his movies. I won’t lie, the knowledge that most of what one takes in in a Christopher Nolan was achieved through actual set pieces being constructed and demolished, instead of through the use of a green screen, adds a deft subtlety to the raw realism that underlies all of his films. To keep it short, Nolan is the very embodiment of unconventional filmmaking.

That brings me to his latest film (well, it was released in 2020 but I only just got to watching it), Tenet. For those who need a refresher, the concept Tenet explores is that of ‘reverse entropy’, which visually manifests as reverse chronology, also known as ‘time inversion’. I know, it already sounds confusing, and I can assure you that for a weak physics student like me, I was baffled by the 10 minute mark. Yet, what impressed me the most about Tenet, apart from the stellar performances from John David Washington’s The Protagonist and Robert Pattinson’s Neil, and the multiple stunning action set pieces, was Nolan’s tight grasp of the audience’s attention. While I acknowledge that Tenet hasn’t gained the widespread acclaim that many of Nolan’s other films have enjoyed, with many criticizing the inaudible dialogue, the confusing storytelling, and the overall cringe factor of a movie that takes itself way too seriously, I cannot but disagree.

I’ve given the movie some thought, penning down my thoughts as I watched it yesterday, and even upon reflection, I find that Nolan’s intentional filmography and scripting ultimately serves to cement this movie as a pinnacle of the action genre for years -heck, decades to come.

Before I move into what I want to say about Tenet, I first need to state it plain and simple. In other words, no jokes, no monkey business, and certainly no kidding around. John David Washington might at first appear to be a soulless husk of a protagonist (given that’s literally his name), but he is a solid 10/10 hunk of a beast who can land an ultimate KO on Ryu anyday whilst absolutely decimating bystanders with his suits.

Okay, this bit is over. Although funnily enough, this acts as a perfect segue to the first thing I noticed about Tenet, namely that it feels amazing to watch. I know I’ve delved into hyperbole before, but I mean it when I say this movie is the epitome of sleek. It’s a small detail in comparison to the rest of the movie, but even the fact that it’s the camera or characters seem to constantly be in motion, employing the ‘walk and talk’ at every opportune instance, there really isn’t a dull shot in this movie, to the extent that I would say Nolan’s storyboarding builds upon the chic transitions that laden the film. From its visuals to the set pieces that span entire continents, Nolan knows how to craft a spy flick, and given that Nolan himself stated he wanted Tenet to be like the Spy movies he enjoyed as a child, I guess it adds up. Even so, Tenet outdoes any other spy movie that has ever been released. Sorry 007, move over, otherwise John David Washington’s coming for your ass with a cheese grater.

In tangential relation to the velvet-like performances of Washington’s Protagonist, who exudes calm confidence at every turn, I find it paramount that I address the visual and auditory spectacle that is Tenet. While I don’t wish to spoil the entirety of the movie here, (and I again, urge you to watch it if you haven’t already), there are some four to five insane action sequences in this movie, with at least one unexpected moment that left my mouth agape when it happened. Tenet really is a feast for the eyes, and to give credit where credit is due, Nolan does what few in his field are able to, by bringing life to a concept as abstract as time inversion, making it awesome and pulse-pounding to watch, but above all, making it beautiful. This is further aided by the graphical fidelity of every shot, courtesy of Nolan’s USD 200 million budget that allowed for his precious IMAX cameras, which bring even the smallest embers to vivid life. Moreover, the color correction that always seems to match the tone of the scene adds another layer of complexity to the film’s already dynamic cast. In equal vivacity, Ludwig Goransson’s soundtrack (which constantly employs palindromes) adds a weight to tense moments, whilst building the hype of any good action-based thriller. I cannot do the soundtrack justice, but given that it’s on Spotify, I recommend you give it a listen (after watching the movie of course), because in all honesty, I believe Ludwig’s soundtrack adds bounds to how cool you feel as you watch Tenet.

While we’re on the topic of soundtrack, I want to quickly touch on one major issue many had with Tenet, namely that at many instances, audiences couldn’t hear what was being said, either because the dialogue was muffled (via gas masks), or because the score was so LOUD that it overpowered the characters speaking. In both instances, I personally feel Nolan did so to further immerse audiences in the film. Though first appearing to be counter-intuitive, (I mean, how is loud music going to achieve anything aside from making me annoyed right?), I believe that Nolan’s refusal to take the easy way out by providing subtitles, meant that the chaotic, disorienting sound design helped simulate the confusion and intensity that the Protagonist and Neil were experiencing. More than anything, the inability to hear what is being said mimics the adrenaline surging through both the characters and audience’s veins as they engage in classic badassery. Then how do I explain the moments when audiences simply can’t hear the dialogue even when it’s a normal scene? Even then, Nolan steers clear of deviating from realistic depictions of the real world. In the Freeport Jet hangar, as the private planes are being revved up, it is understandable that the employee’s words are inaudible. Yet, what is more interesting about this whole setup to me, is how Nolan intentionally blurs out whole chunks of dialogue to situate audiences firmly within the character’s perspectives. When Neil is checking the Freeport storage facility for potential sprinklers and items that will aid him in his plan, the employee’s words are distorted and muffled, again, mimicking one’s devotion of limited attention in real life.

At the end of the day, I can only say so much, with my limited arsenal of words, about Tenet. While I could praise Nolan’s snappy pacing, his brilliant combination of the thriller, heist, action adventure and mystery genres, the power dynamics and assertive feminism of Sator, Kat and the Protagonist’s complex tussle that reminds me of Pinter’s The Homecoming, or the cinematic masterpiece that emerges as a result of Nolan’s understanding of how and when to utilize catharsis in his movies, I must say that what left an indelible mark on me after watching the film, was simply this. That, above the beauty of inversion and convergence that governs the world of Tenet, which as Neil puts it, does not lead to nihilism (it makes more sense when you’ve actually watched it), but rather merely acts as one’s “expression of faith in the mechanics of the world”, not acting as “an excuse to not do anything”, Nolan chooses to make Tenet a movie that is about the war on information.

Heck, this could really act as my thesis for this blog post. “Tenet: the war on information”. Sounds pretty grandiose when I type it out now, but I find it true for any genre and medium, and this concept again bares its fangs here. Above the time-based shenanigans that Tenet involves itself in, it really is a film that cuts to the core of the artist and audience relationship. In every book or film created, or to put it even simpler, in every story, there is a struggle between the audience and the artist. In every instance, the artist must decide how much information the audience has. Too little, and the audience is left lost and annoyed, if that isn’t the intention of the work. Too much, and all mystery is gone, no anticipation or buildup can be derived, and there is little catharsis or joy. For this reason, I’ve always been interested in how thrillers in particular walk this tightrope of feeding their audience information to intellectually engage them, whilst never giving too much away.

In Tenet, Nolan nails this acrobatic act, crossing the tightrope of knowledge and mystery with ease, before proceeding to do it again whilst blindfolded and covered in fire ants. At every turn, just as you are dead confident you know what is going on, Nolan comes up from behind you and delivers a 1 x outstanding sike, to reveal that you are only beginning to grasp what is occurring in linear terms. As stated very clearly in the beginning, “to even know of its [Tenet’s] true nature is to lose”.

Watching Tenet is meant to be enjoyable, but it certainly isn’t meant to be completely understood on first viewing. The more you watch it, the more apparent it becomes that even the smallest details, from Sator and Neil’s themes, to the logistics of every action sequence, to the cohesiveness of the plot, even to the cathartic gut punches at the 60 and 102 minute mark respectively, everything fits, and works in perfect tandem with each other, not only to justify the 2 hour 30 minute runtime of Tenet, but also to deliver upon the anticipation of each character’s arc.

Ultimately, I can’t give a recommendation more glowing than this. Tenet impressed me on the same level as Bong Joon-Ho’s 2019 Parasite, though for very different reasons. By playing with perspective and the fluxing deficit and surplus of information, Nolan creates a film that I have no doubt will serve as a hallmark of cinematic achievement, even if it was released in the worst year possible for a big-budget flick.

Critics might argue that Tenet didn’t save cinema as it should have. To them I would voice my wholehearted agreement. Tenet didn’t need to save cinema. It burned it to the ground and built a masterpiece from the ash, as all stellar movies should. Much like Bong Joon-Ho, Nolan really is in a genre of his own. While he might seem to lean into certain traditions of the industry to gain instantaneous appeal, a Nolan film feels like a Nolan film.

That’s all I have to say about Tenet. If you haven’t yet watched it, please do, I cannot recommend it enough. But otherwise, thanks for reading this far in regardless! I will be chowing down on more movies over the next few months (hopefully), so see you again when I’ve done that. Until then, take care, and praise God!

(ps. Yeah I’ll also be continuing my reflections on whatever NS brings, just needed to take a break from that for a while. But soon! :”””)