4. “The Prestige” (2006)
Nolan’s strangest film by a country mile and probably his most divisive, “The Prestige” was the little passion project that he knocked off as soon as his post- ‘Batman Begins’ profile allowed it and in remarkably short time (filming began in February 2006, and it was in theaters only eight months later). Based on the novel by sci-fi author Christopher Priest, it follows the story of two magicians, Alfred Borden (Christian Bale) and Robert Angier (Hugh Jackman), who become embroiled in a years-long feud after Angier’s wife (Piper Perabo) drowns in an accident that Angier holds Borden responsible for. They move on, only crossing paths every so often, and each become famous for a trick which sees them vanish into thin air, but each also holds a terrible secret that will have dreadful consequences. Many found the film (which is glorious-looking, thanks to Pfister’s photography and Nathan Crowley‘s astounding production design) hard to follow, thanks to Nolan’s puzzle-box-like structure, and hard to like, due to two murderous, bitter protagonists. But if you’re concentrating, the director’s storytelling instincts never get you lost (the secret to the mystery is detailed in the opening shot), and to our mind Bale and Jackman each give enough charm and sympathy to their performances that you can feel for both, although Nolan delicately lets your sympathies come down on one side of the fence by the end. And while it’s certainly a film for the brain first and foremost —Nolan uses the world of magic as a metaphor for moviemaking and storytelling in general— it packs an emotional punch, thanks in part to a tremendous performance by Rebecca Hall in her first major film role. A film quite unlike any in recent memory, and one that you suspect only Nolan could have directed, it may nestle in around the halfway point in this ranking, but it should be noted there was a vocal minority who were all for putting “The Prestige,” outlier though it is, in the top spot.
3. “Memento” (2000)
“Following” might have been scrappy, but it was impressive, and long before the film started doing the festival rounds, Nolan had his follow-up ready to go. His producer and then-girlfriend-now-wife Emma Thomas had sold Nolan’s script for “Memento” (based on a short story by his younger brother) to Newmarket Films, and it quickly became a hot property around Hollywood. According to James Mottram‘s “The Sundance Kids,” Brad Pitt was interested in the lead role, with Aaron Eckhart and Thomas Jane also in the running. But it was Guy Pearce, hot off “L.A. Confidential,” who took the part of Leonard Shelby, a man unable to sustain long-term memories on the hunt for the man who caused his injury and killed his wife. It’s in many ways a true successor to “Following,” in the same neo-noir milieu (though this time a gloriously lit California, courtesy of Wally Pfister, in their first collaboration), and with an even more intricate structure; Shelby’s story is told backwards, from his execution of pal Teddy to a beginning/ending that reveals that much of what little he knows about his existence is a lie. It’s an infinitely more confident film than Nolan’s debut, controlled and playful, and the structure (perhaps bar the black-and-white segment, which feels a little too much) is far from a gimmick. It’s a sad and ingenious series of snapshots that drip-feeds the tortuous plot while putting the viewer in Leonard’s disoriented shoes. Pearce is terrific, and “The Matrix” graduates Carrie-Anne Moss and Joe Pantoliano get to show they are far more than sci-fi sidekicks. It might not be as rewatchable as some of his films (and watching it “forwards” as it were, is educational, but rather robs the film of its point), but it’s a pretty astonishing leap up the ladder, and it could be argued that it’s the director’s most complete film to date.
2. “Inception” (2010)
Honestly, until we sat down in the theater, we expected “Inception” to be Nolan’s “Heaven’s Gate” —an expensive indulgent folly, the kind directors all too often fall victim to after being given carte blanche to make whatever they like. But we’d forgotten that Nolan had been working on the screenplay for a decade, and had honed his skills to a greater level than ever before, because “Inception” is an absolute triumph, and the culmination of everything the director’s career until then had been building towards. A deeply personal art film disguised and also working brilliantly as a giant summer blockbuster, it sees Nolan focus in on a bold science-fiction idea: implanting an idea in someone’s mind by entering their dreams. But while many would use that pitch as an excuse for Lynchian imagery up the wazoo, Nolan applies his meticulous attention to detail and rules-setting, creating a clear and satisfying universe that nevertheless has enough texture that it doesn’t become airless. He engages deeply with big concepts; about where ideas come from, about the function of dreams and consciousness, about love, grief and closure. And yet the film is consistently entertaining, a pacy caper film with cracking action sequences (the director finally nailing that side of filmmaking), that also doubles as a brilliantly thought out metaphor for the movie-making process itself. We can see how some can grate against the exposition, although as far as we’re concerned, it’s about as painless as it could be (although it’s a shame that Ellen Page can never just ask the question, “Why don’t you get Michael Caine to bring your kids to you in France?”). And we can see that some might find it hard to identify with Nolan’s rule-bound, organized, sexless dream world, but as we’ve said before, it’s a hugely personal film, and we suspect that this is the way that Nolan’s dreams look. It’s as weird and difficult a film as has ever made $800 million at the box office and remains the most hope-giving example of a big studio investing big bucks in a personal vision in recent memory.
1. “The Dark Knight” (2008)
A sprawling crime saga running two and a half hours and until recently the highest-grossing comic-book movie of all time (since surpassed by “The Avengers“), Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” is still arguably the greatest superhero movie ever made. But it’s also not without its flaws. Heath Ledger as the unhinged and unforgettable Joker and the cast elevate the entire thing, removing most traces of suspension of disbelief issues, but even Aaron Eckhart can’t make that Two-Face make-up really work in Nolan’s ultra-realistic world (we spend most of his time on screen worrying what kind of infections he’s going to catch). And if anyone can tell us the narrative reasoning for the faked death of Jim Gordon, we’d be most grateful, because that particular plot thread seems unnecessary, extraneous and poorly executed. All of which just goes to show how much “The Dark Knight” absolutely works when it works —enough for us to even put it above other more narratively satisfying entries in Nolan’s filmography. Thematically “The Dark Knight” is rich, textured stuff, almost a tragic love story between two opposing forces that cannot exist in the same universe without one another, but which seek only each others’ destruction. Moral questions about whether the means justify the ends are posed (still possibly the thorniest real issue that the vigilantism of the Batman character raises), and the political and social implications brought up in its grand finale are just stupendous. And yet this also remains the Joker and Ledger’s show, the late actor playing the nihilistic villain as anarchist on the outside and deviously nefarious on the inside, and as essentially enamoured by Batman. He doesn’t want to kill him, he wants to convince him; the Joker wants to prove to this fellow freak that their methods are essentially one and the same and that the people he protects aren’t worth fighting for. “You’ll see…when the chips are down, these civilized people, they’ll eat each other,” he cackles. And it’s only by the very slimmest of margins that a rattled Batman and a beleaguered city manage to prove him wrong. Every triumph is tarnished, every defeat of evil by good is rendered in moral shades of gray, every dilemma has real stakes and every decision costs. It’s a brutally beautiful, complex film that even with a rocky third act remains a towering pinnacle if for no other reason than it unlocked hitherto unknown bonus levels in the capacity of a comic book movie to make you think.
–Oli Lyttelton, Jessica Kiang, Rodrigo Perez