Christopher Nolan filmography ranked

As Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey continues to sell out IMAX screens across the country — and here in Halifax where it’s being screened through 70mm IMAX film — the corner of the internet devoted to film culture and listicles has exploded with conversation about the film along with rankings of the British-American filmmaker’s work.

I’ve found many of those lists wildly misjudged, so will provide the FLAW IN THE IRIS authoritative list of Nolan’s work. I will brook no contrary opinions or take questions at this time. Please find the list below and click on the title to read my original review if it exists on the blog.

I’d like to say from the jump that Nolan is one of the most accomplished Hollywood blockbuster filmmakers working, and any flaws in his writing pale in light of the broad success of his filmmaking over 30 years. Even his lesser work is better than 90% of his contemporaries. His films also benefit from more than one viewing, they reveal layers of narrative that are frequently not obvious in the first time around, which is very much to Nolan’s credit. That he’s become a genuine star filmmaker means his every new release is an event — he joins filmmakers like Jim Cameron, Quentin Tarantino, Tim Burton, and David Fincher as a storyteller whose fans always come out for his movies.

OK, here we go:

13) Following (1998)

It’s maybe unfair to even consider this picture among the rest, a 70-minute Hitchcockian thriller Nolan shot on weekends over a year with a group of friends. He wasn’t in school at the time, but it feels like a student film. Probably something for completists only, but Nolan’s confidence with screenwriting and the camera were already evident here.

12) Insomnia (2002)

This one appears high up on other lists, but that can only be because those folks have never watched the far superior Norwegian original from 1997 by Erik Skjoldbjærg and starring Stellan Skarsgaard (now available on the Criterion Channel). Sure, Al Pacino and Robin Williams are solid in their roles, but Nolan’s film feels like a director-for-hire gig more than any of his other work.

11) The Prestige (2006)

A certain cadre of Nolan fans consider The Prestige one of his great movies, and I’ve never understood why. It’s hard to cast shade on any movie starring David Bowie, but for me this one is his most Shyamalan-esque film, demanding a late-arriving twist to carry too much emotional weight. (I say that, but I’m also a fan of The Lady In The Water, shrugs.)

10) The Dark Knight Rises (2012)

There’s a lot to enjoy in this third Batman movie, from an excellent Anne Hathaway performance as Catwoman to Tom Hardy, terrifying as Bane, and from the introduction of The Bat to the atomic blast finale, which weirdly works as a tribute to maybe the most famous Adam West Batman ’66 episode. But here’s one of the few times where Nolan’ can’t quite keep all the balls in the air.

You can see the third act falling apart in real time, with too many players on the board and too many plot issues gumming up the works — like how did those cops live underground for months? Also, this is one where Nolan’s emerging political conscience is starting to take shape, but it isn’t entirely clear where he stands on societal inequity and the role of billionaires.

9) Tenet (2020)

Maybe not the film we wanted during lockdown, but it was the one we needed, the one that brought us back to cinemas. Tenet is a fascinating puzzle, but key to enjoying this time-twist thriller is not overthinking its logic because it really doesn’t really hold up. Enjoy watching Robert Pattinson and John David Washington bouncing up the side of a skyscraper, and a 747 rolling into the side of a building. Don’t worry about any of the rest of it too much.

8) Batman Begins (2005)

The origin of Batman is revisited, but what makes it better than the many times we’ve seen that before is how Nolan incorporates the mental journey to go from the frightened, traumatized child to the disciplined, resourced caped crusader — it takes an hour for the cowl to show up. Nolan smartly dips into one of the all-time great Batman tales for inspiration, Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli’s Batman: Year One. Once again the third act is overcomplicated, but the film serves as a terrific platform for the franchise to grow.

7) The Odyssey (2026)

This year Christopher Nolan really solved his third act problem with The Odyssey — the story builds to a truly satisfying conclusion. And while his penchant for non-linear storytelling continues, this is probably his most straight-ahead narrative since Batman Begins. That may turn out to be a strength as audiences flock to IMAX screens this month to take in this epic adaptation of Homer’s poem. It also serves as a solid thematic partner with Oppenheimer as an illustration of a man’s guilt for wartime decisions, and a commentary on the state of modern civility.

6) Oppenheimer (2023)

The story of the man who invented The Bomb is sprawling and dark, as you’d expect. It’s superbly cast, but Nolan’s non-linear structure means the emotional high point takes place at the end of the second act. It’s not that the final portion — more of a coda, set years after the war — isn’t fascinating, but somehow the disposition of the villain feels less essential than what went before. That said, this is a massive, essential work in the Nolanography, not just because of all the Oscars it earned.

5) Memento (2000)

I rewatched Memento recently, and wondered as I do every time I see it: How does one conceive of this story? How do you write it? I’m sure this film, over all of Nolan’s work, is the one that gets dissected in film studies classes. If he’s stopped making movies after this one, his reputation as a filmmaker would still be set.

4) Dunkirk (2017)

It’s not too often I’ve stepped out of the cinema after seeing a film and felt genuinely shook. For this one it had a lot to do with the visuals, but even more to do with the Hans Zimmer score. The percussion that always felt like it was gradually, inexorably speeding up through the jagged editing brought the white knuckles. The film’s coup de grace is the way the arbitrary nature of sudden death in war is conveyed so explicitly, terrifyingly, and elegantly over three, overlapping time spans.

3) Inception (2010)

I’m not sure what more there is to say about this film, this expansive story of dream warriors that’s constantly having to explain its rules to the audience, so laden down as it is with exposition, that still winds up being a total rush, the flawlessly directed action sequences of antagonists walking on ceilings so deftly edited by Lee Smith.

The passion Nolan has for the 007 picture On Her Majesty’s Secret Service is clear in this one, and I hope that if Amazon and Denis Villeneuve can somehow find a way to successfully relaunch Bond we’ll one day get Nolan’s take on that property — Inception is a terrific science-fiction thriller, and it’s also his demo.

2) The Dark Knight (2008)

This is the Nolan picture I’ve seen the most as it continuously rewards rewatches. Everyone legitimately talks about the Ledger Joker as the flaming heart of the film, but if that was all it had to recommend it we probably wouldn’t still be talking about what is probably the best superhero movie ever made. How about a nod to Aaron Eckhart as Harvey Dent, the White Knight who loses his mind and moral compass in grief and pain, or Michael Caine, whose Alfred is the protector of the Protector of Gotham, or Morgan Freeman, who’s never been smoother as Lucius Fox?

The middle segment that starts with a beloved character’s removal from the board, leading the (temporary) capture of the Joker, and then the final disposition of Rachel Dawes (a shout out to Maggie Gyllenhaal, too), that’s unimpeachable blockbuster movie-making. It’s so thrilling what comes after Joker hanging his head out the cruiser window like a puppy is almost a let down. Almost.

1) Interstellar (2014)

I stand by that original review written a dozen years ago, I got a lot of it right. What I didn’t know then is how much my estimation of this film would grow over the years, how Zimmer’s soundtrack would somehow become even more beloved than the film it scores, spreading across the culture, and how the emotional impact of the film would grow with each viewing. In at least one way Interstellar does something that the cold, brilliant vision of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, doesn’t do — we end up caring more about Coop and Murph than we do about Bowman. The best movies use intellectual structures to deliver emotion, and that’s what Interstellar does better than any other Nolan picture to date.

 

PS: If you’ve read this far, and have an opinion on Interstellar, I’d be interested in hearing your thoughts on one peculiar, particular plot point (spoilers from here on):

When Cooper finally sees his daughter, Murphy, now aged and in a hospital bed, why doesn’t she take a minute to introduce him to her family who are all gathered in the room? You’d think she’d want him to at least say hello to her children and grandchildren. Never been able to figure that one out.

About the author

flawintheiris

Carsten Knox is a massive, cheese-eating nerd. In the day he works as a journalist in Halifax, Nova Scotia. At night he stares out at the rain-slick streets, watches movies, and writes about what he's seeing.

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