C
Christopher Nolan’s Tenet is the first new Hollywood blockbuster to be released in cinemas in almost six months. The good news is that it is so sprawling, so epic, so crammed with exotic locations, snazzy costumes, shoot-outs and explosions that you get six months’ worth of big-screen entertainment in two and a half hours. Clearly, it never occurred to Nolan to tone it down every now and then. Having directed Inception, Interstellar, and the Dark Knight trilogy, he’s not someone you associate with quiet, intimate indie dramas. But it’s still startling to see a film so over-the-top that when one character asks if the villains are planning a nuclear holocaust, another character snaps: “No. Something worse.”
The recipient of this unpleasant news is a cool and confident CIA agent (John David Washington, star of BlacKkKlansman) known only as the Protagonist. He is then told that certain objects scattered around the world are moving backwards through time: they were manufactured in the future and are heading into the past. In some way that I didn’t understand, an exposition-spouting scientist (Clemence Poesy) has worked out that these “inverted” objects are the remnants of a war which will be declared centuries from now, and will nonetheless wipe out the whole of history. Got that? No, me neither, but the point is that it makes a nuclear holocaust look like a game of dominos.
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Even that reality-smashing threat isn’t enough for Nolan, though. The Protagonist has only just had his beginner’s crash course in time travel when he dashes off on a mission which doesn’t seem to have much to do with it. First, he has to break into an arms dealer’s heavily-guarded flat in Mumbai with the aid of a louche British fixer, Robert Pattinson, who deserves his own spin-off film. Then, he has to pop to a posh restaurant in London for a briefing with a bigwig played by Nolan’s lucky charm, Michael Caine (the character is named Sir Michael in homage). Then, he’s instructed to liaise with a sadistic Russian oligarch, Kenneth Branagh, who conducts his business meetings while skimming over the waves on a top-of-the-range high-speed catamaran. But in order to do that, the Protagonist has to help the oligarch’s wife, Elizabeth Debicki, get out of her marriage by … errrr … crashing a jumbo jet into Oslo Airport and stealing a forged Goya drawing. Got that? Once again, me neither. But it is obvious that Nolan didn’t think of a single scene without thinking how he could make it more excessive and expensive.