Oppenheimer, Hiroshima Mon Amour, and the Bearer of Guilt

Two films, separated by decades, tackle this theme through the prism of the atomic bomb: the recent "Oppenheimer" and the classic "Hiroshima Mon Amour." Both provide poignant and layered insights into the burden of guilt.

Oppenheimer

In "Genealogy of Morals," Nietzsche discusses the origins and transformation of guilt, from a simple transactional relationship (owed debt) to an internalized feeling of indebtedness towards one's own conscience. Oppenheimer's internal turmoil can be seen as a manifestation of this kind of internalized guilt, where the "debt" of his creation weighs heavily upon his own moral understanding.

In the shadow of Heidegger's exploration of Being, one witnesses Oppenheimer's journey through an existential forest. Martin Heidegger, in his tome "Being and Time," unraveled the notion of "Dasein" - the human being that confronts its own existence. For Oppenheimer, the bomb became the mirror of his own Dasein, reflecting back not just the atomic explosion but the explosion of his own being.

Every atom split in the bomb reverberated in the corridors of his soul, magnifying the schism between his scientific endeavors and the moral consequences they engendered. It's akin to Sisyphus, in Camus' rendition, who is conscious of the absurdity of his task. Oppenheimer, too, found himself pushing the boulder of guilt up a hill, only for it to roll back each time he tried to justify the bomb's creation on purely scientific grounds.

Hiroshima Mon Amour

Alain Resnais's "Hiroshima Mon Amour" is an evocative piece that juxtaposes personal and collective trauma. The narrative revolves around a brief affair between a French actress and a Japanese architect in post-war Hiroshima. The backdrop of the atomic bomb's aftermath, and the haunting memories of the actress's own traumatic past during World War II, create a compelling tapestry of guilt and memory.

Here, guilt is not merely an American scientist's introspection but a tangled web of personal stories set against the broader canvas of human tragedy. The film beautifully captures the essence of Levinas's philosophy of "the face of the other" – where recognizing the suffering of another becomes a moral imperative. In the juxtaposition of personal and collective trauma, the film prompts viewers to confront the multidimensional nature of guilt and — who bears the burden of guilt.

Oppenheimer, with its potential to shed light on such profound issues, falls somewhat short in prompting its viewers to reflect deeply on the nature of destruction and the interconnectedness of global guilt. While the film portrays the burden borne by the creator, it doesn't adequately challenge viewers to grapple with the universal weight of responsibility. It becomes crucial, then, for audiences to seek a more comprehensive understanding, drawing from diverse narratives, to fully appreciate the gravity of such historical events and their moral implications.

P.S.

The recent humanitarian catastrophe in Ukraine serves as a poignant reminder of the complexities of portraying vast, global tragedies. Much of the media narrative has revolved around the role and actions of specific political figures, drawing parallels to the singular portrayal of Oppenheimer in the eponymous film. This reductionist approach, focusing largely on a single individual's role—be it a contemporary political leader or a historical figure like Oppenheimer—often obscures the multi-faceted nature of such events. When a catastrophe is seen merely through the lens of a single person's actions, there's a risk of alienating the audience; the thought process becomes, "I am not 'him', so this narrative is distant from me." A more encompassing approach would consider the collective experiences, the shared pains, and the intertwined destinies of all those affected. As we reflect upon the events in Ukraine or the repercussions of the atomic bomb, we need storytellers—whether filmmakers, journalists, or writers—to craft narratives that transcend individual roles and resonate with the shared human experience. Only then can the weight of such events be truly felt, prompting a more profound understanding and empathy among audiences.