Perhaps the only Nolan film where his talent for making characters unlikeable actually works for the film.
By the film’s end, you’re not supposed to like anybody – and that’s easier for Christopher Nolan than perhaps he realises. Along the way, you’re supposed to be suspicious of everyone in the film – or at least, suspicious of their motives and morality. I mean, it takes real “talent” to make Hugh Jackman not-likeable – his character is quickly established as a widower, and you still don’t feel particularly bad for him – so thank heavens the story soon after gives you reasons to mistrust, and ultimately dislike, his character as much as everyone else’s. Except Andy Serkis and Bowie’s Tesla: the scenes with them are quite magical. Ultimately, it’s a pit-of-the-stomach-cold-inducing film, and I can’t tell how much of that is due to Nolan’s abilitiesas a film maker, and how much to his lack of understanding of emotions, behaviour and, y’know, humans.