Finally arriving in theatres after several delays due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Christopher Nolan's Tenet finds the London born filmmaker once again showering his dialogue with convoluted terminology to make his concepts and arrangements appear more elevated than justified.

It demands to be acknowledged as a visual extravaganza as the film relinquishes possession of some extraordinary set pieces, and the magnitude of the special effects are ingenious and imaginative and generate a highly accomplished spectacle; regrettably, it fundamentally relies solely on these action sequences. It's all utterly ridiculous and virtually expressionless as it clasps its various embellishments yet still manages to be gloriously entertaining on a primal level, mainly through being supercharged with enthusiasm as it combines straight-faced humour with moments of surrealism.

It employs several fatigued components within its arrangements, and there's a predictability to vast amounts of the plot which are easy to anticipate after the establishment of its basic formulated concept. It seems uncomfortable in the company of other equivalently enormous yet ludicrous action movies, which undoubtedly is what this is, even though it's inclined to adopt a devious posture and pretends to be on a grander pedestal. The condition of the film being dependent on flamboyancy as it follows the protagonist's trek through a clandestine world comprising time-reversing technology possesses the lowest conceivable degree of integrity for characterisation. The lead actor; John David Washington, is not even allocated a name.

The narrative neglects to nurture any emotional investment, which is a problem which has plagued the filmmaker since Memento, which continues to be his best film. While he attempted to address this frequent and merited criticism to his work with Interstellar, that just leapt into emotional manipulation territory which was both contrived and possessed a general lack of coordination. A familiar emotionlessness drives Tenet, together with the customary mechanical machinations which have evolved to be regrettably predictable from the filmmaker. The dimensions of its characters are shallow, particularly Andrei Sator the Russian villain portrayed by Kenneth Branagh, proceed with attributes which feel like they've fallen out of the pages of the novels of Ian Fleming.