Oppenheimer and the Fictionalization of Historical Events

Written By: Bobby Lynch

Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer follows the life of Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and the creation of the atomic bomb. The three-hour epic touches on all aspects of Oppenheimer's life, from his personal relationships to his work on the Manhattan Project. Despite Nolan's truly superb efforts, it is almost impossible to adapt a piece of history such as this one with 100% accuracy. When adapting a historical event, elements must be added (or ignored) to add to the dramatics of the narrative. Without such elements, a filmmaker is risking the overall enjoyability of the film just to preserve historical accuracy. An extreme example of a fictionalized historical narrative is Don DeLillo’s Libra. The novel fabricates entire characters and storylines in the name of creating an enjoyable reading experience. By using fictionalized elements in a historical narrative, both DeLillo and Nolan can tell a better story than they otherwise would have.  

 

While the fictionalized elements are more subtle in Oppenheimer versus Libra, it is still important to note how Nolan uses them to add to the film's narrative. Oppenheimer's wife, Kitty (Emily Blunt), is depicted in the film as an alcoholic who stays at home while her husband is out working on the Manhattan Project. This trait of hers in the film is based on her real alcoholic tendencies in her later years. Despite this, Kitty was still an accomplished botanist who had a job working in the Los Alamos health center. By embellishing her dependence on alcohol, Nolan adds a depth to both Kitty and Oppenheimer's characters that undoubtably makes the film more interesting. Her overindulgence of alcohol is central in various scenes in the film, as she is prone to violent outbursts because of her drinking. This also adds to Oppenheimer's character as he grapples with the consequences of an alcoholic wife.  

Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and his wife Kitty (Emily Blunt) in an argument.

 

As opposed to taking the real-life tendencies of a person and simply embellishing their prevalence for dramatic effect, Libra invents entire characters with fabricated personalities and motives to increase its captivation. One of the book's most central characters, Nicholas Branch, is an invented character whose actions and motivations are fictitious. In the novel, Branch is assigned to research the assassination of President Kennedy many years after the event. He concludes that the assassination was orchestrated by the CIA to spark further resentment against Cuba. Of course, Branch’s actions, motivations, and findings are not a piece of history being displayed in a manner for the reader to digest. He is a manufactured character that has no ties to real life and the events surrounding the assassination of JFK. DeLillo has written an amazing piece of historical fiction that is meant to serve as a fantastical tale rather than an actual piece of nonfiction. His inclusion of a character such as Branch is what creates such an interesting narrative for a reader to enjoy.  

Don Delillo, author of Libra.

When discussing works of historical fiction such as Libra and Oppenheimer, some may have grievances with the inclusion of these fictitious elements. They may not like the fact that fiction is added into a story that is grounded in fact and history. What these people fail to understand is that these books and movies that may be based on historical events, are meant for mass entertainment. Most people may not want to read or watch nonfiction because they might find it boring. We read books and we watch movies to become infatuated with the story and to be transported to a new world that we find interesting. If a story wasn't interesting, why even bother to read or watch it? To those that still critique historical fiction for its inaccuracy, I say, ‘Have fun reading your textbook; let us keep the good stories for ourselves.’ 

How Dune: Part Two Resemble a Familiar Political Friction

   This past week, I was able to see the new blockbuster movie Dune: Part Two. The movie covers the story of Paul Atreides, heir to House Atreides, which is one of the most powerful families in the universe. In the film, he starts off stranded with a new group of people, the Fremen, since his friends and family were recently massacred by the Harkonnens, a rival house. As a member of the Fremen, Atreides rises to power through a religious belief that he is the ‘Lisan al Gaib’, which translates to ‘The Voice from the Outer World’; essentially, the Fremen observe Atreides merge into their community and connect his actions to that of their promised messiah. Atreides then wages war on both the House Harkonnen and the Emperor with his newfound support. By utilizing faithful warriors, knowledge of the environment, and nuclear power Atreides defeats his enemies. Unfortunately, the other powerful houses do not accept his ascension to the position of Emperor. This is expected to lead to ‘The Holy War’ in the next film in the Dune series. 

 

    This movie relates to our recently discussed film Dr Strangelove because of how it incorporates current wartime concerns into cinema. Dr Strangelove is a more comical approach to covering the pressure of the Cold War, whereas Dune: Part Two draws from a different current event, from when it was initially written, which is the struggles to maintain access to the Middle Eastern Oil Supply. I mean, there is literally a conflict for spice, which in the story helps to fuel space travel just like oil does for vehicles, in a baren and sandy land with similar landscape to Saudi Arabia or Iraq. 

Also, the Fremen wear caps which look like the turban-style headdress in Muslim culture, which is the most frequent religion in the region. 

Frank Herbet, the author of Dune Messiah, was very knowledgeable of Islam and said that it definitely helped to craft his ideas for the novel.

 

    What this movie proved to me is how media can highlight possible global issues. Dr Strangelove showed how easily the use of nuclear weapons can end the world. I noticed when I left the theater with my parents, my mom’s first note of the story was about how blind belief in a leader can be dangerous.

Atreides rises to unquestionable power so quickly that it is completely unchecked by others and triggers a war that will cause an indefinite number of casualties. We can see throughout history how some of the worst conflicts have come from rulers ascending to unlimited power in a short window of time. The plot to this story shed light to the power of resources, like oil in the middle east, and how it can have enormous political effects. The opening scene of the movie is actually a black screen with the words “Power over spice is power over all.” The clear depiction of the Cold War in Dr Strangelove and the oil situation in Dune: Part Two make it easy for viewers to see what could happen in the real world. When an audience is faced with a meticulous set of steps in the story that starts from a real-life situation and end in total annihilation, it brings attention to the importance of avoiding that possibility.

              When thinking about American history, I feel that I gained insight into how the relationship between our government and oil mining countries has been in the past. Events such as oil embargoes and price wars appear far more understandable now, and the necessity for governmental stability.

Overall, I believe that the plot of the story directly mimicked how difficult handling finite resources, like oil, is when you are facing unreliable circumstances. 

A COVID Experience Though the Lens of Didion

By Ryan Davis

In the vast expanse of suburbia, settled between the towering concrete jungle of Manhattan and the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, lies Long Island. Here, in the midst of the American Dream, the normal rhythms of life were abruptly disrupted by an unstoppable force. I never could have imagined how drastic life can change for everyone. What seemed to be a promising coming of a new year turned out to disprove expectations and reveal how unseemly chaotic and uncertain life can be.

“We Tell ourselves stories in order to live.” (Didion 1979, pg. 11)

“We interpret what we see, select the most workable of the multiple choices. We live entirely, especially if we are writers, by the imposition of a narrative line upon disparate images, by the “ideas” with which we have learned to freeze the shifting phantasmagoria which is our actual experience. (Didion 1979, pg. 11)

1.

There is really no telling of what can come next in life, is what the consensus was after an interesting month of March in 2020. Things were really starting to get exciting and pick up in the year as I was just asked to play with the varsity lacrosse team that year. I was a sophomore at the time, so it was a great achievement to be moved up before junior year to the varsity squad. So, as school and everything else started to close up, I was obviously upset, but I was hit with an unknown feeling of realization. As I had plenty of time to sit around and think, I came to many conclusions. I was uncertain if I would be going back to school. I was uncertain if I would miss out on my lacrosse season. I was uncertain if I could get my books back from my locker. I was uncertain if I would see my friends soon.

It took some time, but after feeling the effects of being stuck at home for some while, time began to lose the meaning it used to have. The once buzzing streets of my home town grew desolate, the light of storefronts dimming as businesses shut their doors in an attempt to survive. I felt for the small businesses who were trying to cling on to life. The familiar landmarks of my childhood brought upon a strange nostalgic feeling as I walked by with my dog on the empty streets. The movie theater, the diner, and the park had all stood silently. 

“I was supposed to have a script, and had mislaid it. I was supposed to hear cues, and no longer did. I was meant to know the plot, but all I knew was what I saw: flash pictures in variable sequence, images with no “meaning” beyond their temporary arrangement, not a movie but a cutting-room experience.” (Didion 1979, pg. 12)

2.

Within the chaos and upheaval, there were moments of unexpected beauty, which my eyes suddenly opened up too. I found peace in the simplicity of daily routines, such as a morning walk along the empty beach, the comforting warmth of sharing meals and quality time with my family. I became guilty for not appreciating the normal life that was before March of 2020, but again, how could I expect anything like this to happen?

One concept I found to be the most important to grasp from this period of a seemingly unworldly scenario was understanding that changes are inevitable. It was inevitable that I would become a different person when we were through with it. I am glad that I realized that early on and spent my time in quarantine learning new things. 

TO DO WHILE IN QUARANTINE:

1. learn guitar

2. learn to cook

3. learn how to code

4. exercise

5. read books

This is a list I had taped on my wall above my desk in my bedroom when I found out school is closed for the rest of the year. This list enabled me to focus on achieving certain goals I have been meaning work on. Notice these goals are supposed to make me a more well-rounded person, in my eyes at least. Notice how most of these goals were probably similar to a lot of other people’s goals. The idea was to make the most of my time while stuck at home. All the while I lost something that came so naturally to most: social interaction skills.

As we looked to find meaning in the disillusionment, the force field of the pandemic loomed large, casting a barrier between the current reality and a future of certainty. Perhaps the milestones that had once seemed so assured were now doubtful. I became uncertain of completing my high school education. What did it mean to come of age in a world defined by fear and uncertainty? How could I balance between the desire for group accountability and my independence? And perhaps the most unsettling of all, what kind of world awaited us on the other side of this crisis?

“I had, at this time, a sharp apprehension not of what it was like to be old but of what it was like to open the door to the stranger and find that the stranger did indeed have the knife.” (Didion 1979, pg. 47)

3.

I know that in the end, the pandemic had made sense of what the world can be and what we had taken for granted. I know that we do go back to school. I know that things do get better. I know that moving forward, new vaccines will be a controversial topic. The time spent at home had help gather my thoughts and reflect upon experience and see what it means. Quite often, I reflected on my life before the pandemic and compared it to the isolation of being away from the society I once knew. Although, the isolation has not helped me see what it means.

Footnote:

I took Joan Didion's style of journalism to write about my experience during the COVID-19 pandemic. I attempted to structure my blog similarly to "The White Album". Didion's reflective and highly descriptive writing inspired me to detail a few specific points of my experience. I took quotes from Didion and worked upon what I interpreted them to mean. Lastly, I tried to model my them of "coming of age within a shift in society" to Didion's narrative voice that offers insight into various experiences during the shifts of the 1960's and 1970's.

Sources:

    Didion, Joan. The White Album. 1979.

Alex Garland's "Civil War" - An Introspective View of War Journalism

I was very fortunate to see an early screening of Alex Garland's "Civil War" last night, and was saving this blog assignment for after by viewing. of the film. Based on the trailer, I expected to be drawing a connection with this film and Dr. Strangelove, Slaughterhouse Five - after all, a film taking place in a dystopian United States after a harsh succession of multiple states that leads to violence and death seems perfectly aligned with some of the events in those projects. Yet, the entire duration of the film, I found myself recollecting my thoughts on Michael Herr's "Dispatches."

What "Civil War's" trailer failed to include was the fact that this film was told through the lens of war journalists as they go about their occupational activities during this civil war. The film has a Vonnegut feel to it, as during some of the most tense and violent moments, the audience was left laughing. Yet, the film also contained moments where the the audios and visuals seemingly took us into the mind of our protagonists - the film would go completely silent for minutes on end to empathize the horror the protagonists are experiencing and how humor can't mask the reality of certain situations.

Michael Herr's "Dispatches" goes into the horrors of war from as early as its first section - discussing how our journalist protagonist would see himself on helicopters with dead bodies, how he watched people get blown up, and how through all this trauma, he pleaded to leave and escape it all. At the time of me writing this, the film has yet to be fully released, so to avoid being known as the jerk student who spoiled a movie for an entire class, all I will say on the matter is that what our journalists in "Civil War" experience can be paralleled to what those in "Dispatches" experience.

Like I said, I expected to be writing entirely on pieces like Dr. Strangelove and Slaughterhouse Five based on the trailer, but the film wound up feeling like a large adaptation of Dispatches. I do think, however, there are some connections that can be made to those works, as well. I stated earlier that the film had Vonnegut elements of humor similar to that of Slaughterhouse Five, but it also contained a similar way of romanticizing some of the violence of war. The quote "Everything was beautiful and nothing hurt" is reflected a number of times in this film and felt like a visual representation of Vonnegut's quote. On the other hand, the most famous quote from "Civil War" comes from the blonde gentleman below, when he asks one of our protagonists "What kind of American are you?" A discussion on what that quote means would exceed 650 words, 1650 words, maybe even 16500 words, but it was hard not to think back to the scenes in Doctor Strangelove of American soldiers killing each other when hearing it.

I think the general movie-goer who watches this film is going to ask themselves "Why does this matter?" I think a better question to ask is "How, after all these years of literature, film, and media, are we stuck talking about the same thing?" The easy answer is "America sucks and we're stuck in a vicious cycle of war and insurrection that constantly needs to be talked about." I don't think that answer is wrong, but it doesn't explain why films are actively being released talking about the future of the United States talking about the same things that were being talked about in past wars. Is it an effort to direct change when others couldn't? Is it a way to generate profit off a topic that is historically profit? Is it a means of etching a director or author's name in the history of American film and literature? 

I would like to think the answer to all of this is less ego-centric. I think that as a country, we have changed so much that what we have seen and read historically does not apply to the world we live in today. This film features modern dialect, cell phones, modern media, modern weaponry, and resonates with audiences in a way that previous literature cannot. It's a look into the dystopian future of the United States based on the tensions of our modern world, and that story can't be told without the technology, media, and socioeconomic and political tensions that exist today. 

Authenticity in The Iron Claw and Portrait of Jason

 

    Released in December 2023, The Iron Claw chronicles the tragic story of the Von Erich brothers as they navigate the world of professional wrestling in the early 80s. The film explores themes like toxic masculinity, brotherhood, and overly obsessed dreams of triumph. The story is based on a real family of wrestlers that were supposedly “cursed”, but the film leads us to believe that this “curse” was likely just the work of an abusive father overly obsessed with success and masculinity. The main character is Kevin Von Erich, the oldest of four brothers, and the favorite of their father. One by one each of Erich’s brothers is lost in a series of tragedies all in some way caused by wrestling, but more accurately by the pressure of their father's dreams. 

    I saw the movie in theaters in December and went in knowing very little about it. I found the film incredibly sad, but overall I enjoyed it because I thought it was really original and had some solid acting.

    One way I felt that The Iron Claw (2023) related to our course was the theme of authenticity versus manipulation of media that we explored with Portrait of Jason. A huge part of the movie is about professional wrestling, which particularly in the early 80s was highly dramatized, to the point where it is obviously fake. All of the wrestlers have exaggerated characteristics and storylines to make the events less of a sport, and more of an exciting spectacle. All of the Von Erich brothers vary in their abilities to embody their wrestling characters and work the cameras compared to their actual wrestling ability. Kevin is the likely best, most committed fighter of the brothers, but his brothers David and Mike are more talented at performing for the cameras. By including many aspects that are just unbelievable, professional wrestling makes very little effort to hide the fact that it is fake. In Portrait of Jason, it is much more subtle, but Shirley Clarke very intentionally leaves in snippets that make it clear she (and Jason) are both artists who are manipulating the film.

    Both films have a balance of very raw, seemingly authentic emotions and an acknowledgment that there is heavy manipulation involved in order to appeal to an audience. This is more of a central theme in Portrait of Jason, but it is undeniably present in The Iron Claw as well. While Jason is vulnerably recounting some of the most tragic parts of his life while subtly hinting that he is a performer that know how to work an audience. Kevin Von Erich is living through the tragic loss of his brothers and trying to maintain his public image as an unrelenting, very masculine wrestler. After his brother, Mike, has suffered serious brain damage, Kevin appears in a press conference and must maintain the family's image as unflappable fighters claiming that Mike will be back in the ring in no time even though realistically, Mike will never be able to fight again. 

    I think this comparison helps me understand the question of why we as people love stuff like reality TV and down-to-earth, authentic celebrities so much. Even though we all know that reality TV is heavily manipulated by producers and most celebrities are fiercely media trained, etc, both of these films start to get at the fact that regardless of authenticity, we enjoy a spectacle of any kind. It's almost like playing make-believe. If you can make yourself forget that you know better, it's pretty fun to imagine a world where these things exist, especially under the pretense that it is real. Something like fake wrestling is pretty polarizing, as some people, myself included, find it stupid because it is so obviously fake, yet there is no denying that it draws a huge audience. So maybe in some ways, we care less about actual authenticity than we would like to admit. 

In the Wake of the Leviathan

    The relentless Egyptian heat beat down on my neck as we steered the Ben Franklin through the canal. The air hung thick and heavy, and my gaze drifted across the vast expanse of metal ahead of us – the Ever Given, a leviathan of a ship dwarfing our own freighter. It was a monstrosity of progress, and entirely too close for comfort in this narrow waterway. A prickle of unease ran down my spine, a premonition brushed aside in the face of the day's tight schedule. We settled into the slow, single-file crawl that was the canal, a routine as familiar as shifting of the seasons. The days bled into one another, marked only by the rising and setting sun.

    The first whispers of trouble began as hushed conversations amongst the crew. The Ever Given, they said, had run aground. Disbelief turned to worry as the news solidified. We were stuck, a string of dominoes frozen mid-fall. The once-orderly flow of the canal ground to a halt, replaced by a tense, watchful stillness. The mess hall became a microcosm of the chaos outside. A cacophony of languages filled the air, each crew member a prisoner in their own cage of worry. The captain, a normally stoic man, spent hours hunched over navigation charts, his brow furrowed in a perpetual crease. I swear I saw him muttering to himself once, his eyes glazed over with a strange kind of resignation. The outside world, once a blur of passing scenery, became a stage for the absurd. A lone windsurfer, a defiant speck against the colossal backdrop of the beached ship. A fleet of tugboats, valiant but hopelessly outmatched, buzzing around the Ever Given like angry bees.

    Weeks bled into one another, the only constant the relentless sun and the unyielding Ever Given. The initial worry morphed into a weary acceptance, a dull ache that settled in the pit of my stomach. Time, once a steady march, became an unmoored ship, tossed about by the currents of uncertainty. Then, one day, a tremor of hope. Monstrous dredgers arrived, their mechanical jaws gnashing at the sand with an insatiable hunger. Day and night they toiled, slowly, painstakingly, carving a path for the Ever Given. We watched, a collective breath held in our lungs, as the leviathan shifted ever so slightly.

    The day it finally budged was a day etched in my memory. A cheer erupted from the decks of the surrounding ships, a sound as crisp as clean water in a desert. We watched, bleary-eyed, as the Ever Given, stirred back to life. It was a victory not just of engineering, but of human resilience, a testament to our ability to overcome the seemingly insurmountable. The canal unblocked, the world lurched back into motion. We steered the Ben Franklin forward, the once-still water churning beneath our hull. The experience, however, left an indelible mark. We carried with us the weight of those surreal weeks, a shared story etched in the lines on our faces and the weariness in our eyes. The world spun on, ignorant to the drama that had unfolded in this narrow stretch of water. Perhaps they had heard about it, but for us, the crew of the Ben Franklin, the Suez Canal would forever be a place of suspended time, a bizarre wrinkle in the fabric of reality, a reminder of a time the world stood still.

Image of the Ever Given as seen from above.
Agence France-Presse — Getty Images 

    This piece describes what I imagine it may have been like to be stuck behind the Ever Given freighter during the 2021 Suez Canal obstruction incident. I did my best to adapt the prose and some of the themes from Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse-Five into the text. I really focused on displaying two main themes from Slaughterhouse: the collective human experience and the ambiguity of time. I thought about structuring the narrative nonlinearly too, but it seemed impossible to do well in such a short piece.   

Exploring Identity through Titans and Invisibility

BY ROHIT BISWAS

“I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me” (Ellison, 3)... “I’m a slave to freedom” (Eren, 1:04:29).

Identity and self-discovery are two perennial themes that have fascinated storytellers for centuries. In literature and anime, these themes come to the surface, and the exploration goes to the depths of human nature, ultimately, the journey of discovering the self. Two works that exemplify this exploration are "Attack on Titan," the popular anime series created by Hajime Isayama, and "Invisible Man," the groundbreaking novel by Ralph Ellison. Despite their different genres and how they present the stories, both narratives have tremendous value as they touch the soul of the search for individual identity and self-realization.

In "Attack on Titan," the characters are thrust into a brutal world where humanity is on the brink of extinction, besieged by giant humanoid creatures known as Titans. One of the story's main characters is Eren Yeager, a teenager struggling with the sense of self, the meaning of his existence, and the incredible chaos and despair he witnesses. Initially driven by a desire for revenge against the Titans, Eren's journey evolves into a quest for self-discovery as he uncovers the truth about his origins and abilities. When Eren undergoes a process of coping with his Titan-shifting power, a particular sort of transformation occurs as he also deals with the demons of his past, making his way toward the future.

In the latter half of "Attack on Titan," Eren gains the ability to see into the future, profoundly altering his perception of the world and his role within it. Climbing the ranks in the military exposes him to intricate moral issues that he must then contend with. The new power causes him to doubt his initial beliefs and casts a shadow on his previous opinions. Despite the weight of his knowledge, Eren remains determined to uncover the truth behind the Titans and secure humanity's survival, even if facing impossible odds and betraying those closest to him. In the face of a climax, the final chapter of Attack on Titan, a journey of self-discovery ends, and a spellbinding narrative about free will, fate, and the effect of choices on the brink of the universe destruction takes place.

Similarly, "Invisible Man" follows the protagonist, a nameless African-American man, as he navigates a racially charged society that seeks to define him based on preconceived notions of identity. The novel artistically represents the invisible man's struggle with a strong sense of unbelongingness and remoteness when he expresses the difficulty in proving himself in the right way in a world that is reluctant to acknowledge his inner identity. As he embarks on a journey of self-discovery, he encounters various characters and experiences that shape his understanding of himself and the society in which he exists. This process involves reflection and discovery drives that finally rescue the Invisible Man from his invisibility-fuelled identity crises, which he sees as a form of resistance.

What we have in common with both "Attack on Titan" and "Invisible Man," as these stories explore the essence of identity and self-discovery, is their human nature, portrayed in many different aspects. In both narratives, the protagonists are confronted with external forces that seek to define them, whether it be the Titans threatening humanity's existence or the oppressive societal structures perpetuating racial discrimination. But in the end, their individual strife and progress make them go beyond the perimeter of the given influence and assert their identities.

Furthermore, both works highlight the importance of agency and choice in the journey toward self-realization. While both protagonists suffer from the world's cruelty, they decide their destinies and do not stay passive. Instead, they face their dilemmas and take actions that ultimately define their futures. Whether Eren determines to fight for his beliefs or the Invisible Man's defiance in the face of societal expectations, both characters exemplify the power of individual agency in the pursuit of identity.

Ultimately, "Attack on Titan" and "Invisible Man" draw deep reflections on the freewheeling thoughts on the complexity of the themes of identity and self-discovery, bringing to light the inner transformative journey of their lead personalities in navigating through and trying to make sense of the highly intricate worlds they find themselves in. Through their struggles and triumphs, Eren Yeager and the Invisible Man remind us of the inherent human desire to seek truth and forge our paths, regardless of the obstacles that may stand in our way. While we witness their evolvement towards the identity model, we get a revelation about how we find out who we are and the decisions that come to our minds when we define what kind of identity model we are in.

-To You, After 2,000 Years