‘Tenet’ – killing time
As the world limped towards the end of 2020, battered and baffled in equal measure, what it most needed from Hollywood was a blockbuster for the ages, a magnificent celluloid event with the power to lift everybody’s spirits, a chink of light amidst the oppressive darkness, a vaccine for the soul – if you will – that would help humanity over the line towards a brighter, shinier 2021.
What it got was ‘Tenet’.
Like a bewildering cross between an Escher painting, a James Bond movie played in reverse and a game of blindfolded 3D chess, ‘Tenet’ is what would have happened 20 years ago if Christopher Nolan had made ‘Memento’ with $200m and an ego the size of a small planet, rather than $3.80 and a length of bailing twine. Going all in on an XXL serving of pseudo science, Nolan manages to extract everything fresh and interesting from his impressive back catalogue, throws it into a blender and then flushes the chaotic result down a metaphysical toilet. The whole experience feels like having your mind sucked through a tiny black hole with nothing but disappointment and stale popcorn on the other side.
It all starts off straightforwardly enough, with a CIA raid on some anonymous terrorists holed up in a Ukrainian Opera House, but it only takes 5 minutes for everything to go terminally, batshit crazy. John David Washington, gamely playing the increasingly perplexed-looking Protagonist of the piece, gets shot at by a bullet travelling backwards in space-time, is swiftly captured and tortured before committing ‘suicide’. He wakes to find out that it was all part of an unnecessarily complex hazing ritual and he’s been accepted into ‘Tenet’, the eponymously-named organisation of PhD-wielding time cops. They’re trying to stop World War III by intervening in the present, with weapons from the future, in the quest for an algorithm from their past. Or something like that.
To cut a very long story short, most of the action revolves around time ‘turnstiles’. Looking suspiciously like those large revolving doors that idiots are constantly getting stuck in at the entrance to airports, these have the power to turn time backwards for you if you’re going forwards, and forwards if you’re going backwards. Got that? Great. Neither did anybody else. Various hangers-on pop up along the way, including Kenneth Branagh as the world’s hammiest Russian oligarch and Robert Pattison as a kind of human cravat, but they’re entirely beside the point. Nolan is far more interested in using his wafer-thin Möbius strip of a plot as an excuse to indulge in some insane VFX escalation, culminating in two armies launching a ‘temporal pincer movement’ for reasons you’re now too exhausted to remember. It might be a magnificent technical piece of film making, but by the time the three hour mark comes along your scrambled brain’s instinctive reaction is to try to turn itself off and on again.
Far from being a much-needed antidote to the year 2020, ‘Tenet’ could not be a better metaphor for it. Nobody has any idea what’s going on, especially the people in charge. Or the protagonist. Or the audience. Half of the time everyone’s heading into the past like reactionary anti-5G MAGA Vaxxers, whilst the other half of the time the very same people are performing a volte-face back towards a modicum of progressive sanity. Then reversing direction again when things, predictably, go to crap. Lots of people die needlessly in the desperate search for a killer algorithm that nobody knows for sure they’ll ever be able to locate. And everyone spends far too much time in small spaces, trying to understand how they got there. In fact the only way ‘Tenet’ could be more 2020 would be for some kind of home schooling to make an appearance. And, whilst you can’t fault Nolan’s ambition, you also can’t escape the feeling that, just like 2020 itself, this is a film that deserves to be consigned to the past in the sincere hope of a far superior future.