Christopher Nolan (Ranked)

Justin Horowitz
6 min readAug 21, 2020

Listed in order from least favorite to most.

9. Interstellar

It is the largest Christopher Nolan film in terms of size, its desperate thematic grasp and definitely in terms of how much of the universe is explored, yet it never worked for me as much as his other films. I don’t think it’s because it reflects all of the Chris Nolan clichés (he even manages to work a “dead wife” into this one), but because it’s not strong enough to truly counter it. Anne Hathaway may be excavating her soul for us to see during a tearful monologue, but even she can’t make “Love is the one thing that transcends time and space” genuine and not corny. It’s a damn shame since it’s not a bad film for lack of trying — Nolan has so much he wants to say, and his sense of daring still pulsates through this film’s veins.

8. Insomnia

Though it being this low suggests that I’m not fond of this film, I actually really like this film and feel its really underrated in the Nolan pantheon. It starts out as a typical murder-mystery, but the story in Act 2 takes unexpected turns and becomes an unusual and unsettling thriller. Nolan isn’t working on a big canvas, but there is such an all-encompassing quality that is appropriately suffocating at times. In the center of it all is Robin Williams’ most underrated performance, one that will chill you to the bone.

7. Dunkirk

The gambit of this film, to make it a personal thriller set amidst amidst World War II, pays off in its sheer power and in-your-face intimacy, even if some of the characterization is more thin compared to his other films (though I’d argue that lack of backstory doesn’t deter empathy). Yet it doesn’t mean we don’t care about his characters, and during a fateful final montage, our heart breaks for one of them, finding himself in the next frightening chapter of his life.

6. Inception

If Chris Nolan never made a film as good as The Dark Knight afterwards, no one would fault him. The fact that he followed this with an original sci-fi blockbuster with an ambiguous ending showed the world that he was here to stay. Outside of its cultural footprint, it holds up — it’s a gripping, and at times, surprisingly emotional film about our relationship to nostalgia and our desire to control our worlds. What makes the iconic ending so strong isn’t the question, “Is this real?”, but because we know how much this means to Cobb (Leo). Even when he decides he doesn’t care about the answer, we’re terrified for him.

5. The Dark Knight Rises

The bombastic sequel to The Dark Knight that is nowhere near as smart as it thinks it is, but it doesn’t make it less compelling. It’s still an immensely epic and entertaining superhero film that is haunting and strange, with a clear line from The Dark Knight to itself — a land of graveyards (metaphorical and tangible), with characters making difficult choices that truly speak to their values…or lack thereof. It’s also just plain fun, as evidenced by its aerial, drum-banging opening where Bane takes apart an airplane and transfers someone’s blood during it? The fire fucking rises.

4. Memento

There is a hilarious alternate universe in Murph’s bookshelf where following Memento, Chris Nolan just becomes a weird low-budget thriller director instead of the next Spielberg. But that’s also because Memento is so good at what it does. Like every great Nolan film, it’s not just an example of audacious structure, but a story at the service of something deeply emotional and existential. It’s exciting picking up the pieces with Leonard, but even more gripping when we realize what it’s all for. His desperate reckoning is all the more potent because, in spite of its psychotic insanity, would we behave truly different?

3. The Prestige

If a bunch of aliens beamed me up and asked me to explain to them what a Christopher Nolan film was, first I would scream in utter confusion because they’re aliens, but then once I gathered my thoughts (and/or am sedated by alien drugs) I would say The Prestige. It’s not just because it carries so many hallmarks of the Nolan experience (sci-fi; epic; thriller; mystery; audacious structure; obsessive self-destructive characters; etc.) but because it’s also a meta story about its director. The Prestige shows the commitment to obsession of detail, but even more than that, giving yourself over to your idea and work, searching for adoration (which Nolan is too withholding to ever acknowledge) and meaning, only to lose sight of it as you’re caught up in the nitty-gritty details of it all. Yet it’s ending (the most bizarre of any of his films) is weirdly endearing, suggesting both that it’s worth it and innately horrifying.

2. Batman Begins

When this film was first announced and advertised, I could barely muster any interest. After all, we already had 4 live-action Batman films. Why did we need a fifth one? And it was going to start over with second-tier villains? Yawned. But then I saw this and was blown away. Not just because it was more surprising than other superhero films that I’ve previously scene, but because it felt like we were watching a superhero being built from the ground up, from philosophy and physicality to technology and legacy. The film also doesn’t care showing shades of grey in its characters — whether it’s Bruce considering killing his family’s killer, or his mentor Ra’s al Ghul who alternates between benevolence and narcissism.

  1. The Dark Knight

One of the most unique details that holds up in the era of cinematic universes is the Joker’s lack of a definable backstory. Nolan realized that if anything, his backstory would’ve make him more empathetic and relatable, instead of a brutal force of nature whose mere presence haunts every frame of the film. He challenges Batman, Jim Gordon and Harvey Dent in what is not just a battle for their lives, but for the soul of the city itself. Like its predecessor, it feels like we’re seeing iconic characters naturally being built from the ground up, whether it’s Gordon becoming Commissioner or Dent transforming into Two-Face. Yet it also possesses its grey areas, whether it’s Batman embodying the Patriot Act in fighting the Joker, the cops that are literal servants for the mob, and most obviously Dent himself — a fearless prosecutor with an indignant, simmering anger waiting for the spark. This whole film feels like a roller-coaster, one that just keeps building and building, becoming at times overwhelmingly tense, which only works because we feel the existential and literal terror of all the characters. Even now, I re-watch scenes (that I’ve re-watched dozens if not over a hundred times) and still feel tense in spite of knowing what’s coming. That’s the power of this film.

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Justin Horowitz

I write movie reviews because I like sounding like a Rotten Tomatoes status. Also I write scripts and try to make films. This is one of them: https://vimeo.com/