I.V.’s review published on Letterboxd:
A pop-rationalist approach to what’s basically Philip K. Dick material. Still think the last third suffers from clumsy, underdeveloped action; a lot of it just makes me wish that Nolan had started working with Hoyte van Hoytema earlier in his career.
Nonetheless, this is probably his zingiest film, less about the heist than the con and closer in spirit to an Ocean’s movie. The apparent contradiction is that this also one of Nolan’s saddest works, as morbidly obsessed with spousal grief and self-delusion as Memento and The Prestige (probably my favorite of his films), mixing the former's fascination with lost and repressed memories with the latter's phobias about tech magic, self-destruction, and water. I get it now.