The Metaphysical Yin And Yang Of Christopher Nolan And Taylor Swift

There are things that define the artists we love. Wes Anderson has daddy issues and was once friend zoned by a girl who liked heavy eye makeup. Snoop Dogg likes weed. Quentin Tarantino wishes he were Snoop Dogg. Taylor Swift gets her heart broken; at least she did until getting married. Christopher Nolan obsesses over what kind of man he is and what his legacy will be. Also, his wife is probably going to die. Together, they form the yin and the yang, the night and the day, the summer and the winter, the chocolate and the peanut butter.

They may seem different. Swift makes works for stadiums and car speakers. Nolan’s productions are for the screen. They’re both fond of IMAX, though. More importantly, both are our bards, our cultural leaders, people who can set off silly firestorms, ones that really shouldn’t be as expansive as they are. Swift has been criticized for being not political enough, then for being too political. Also, she takes lots of private jets. Nolan, well, he made a cinematic version of an ancient poem, and criticisms are all over the place. Some are even legitimate, but the discourse has become absolutely retarded, and not just because I’ve contributed to it.   

If only he’d adapted something from Shakespeare that drew the same sort of fury, a tempest in a teapot, if you will. That’s not why we’re here, though. No, we’re here to discuss how a Millennial former teen country star turned pop sensation and an elder Gen X autist with a passion for insanely complicated filmmaking mirror one another. It’s not just the wealth, the controversies, or the IMAX. It’s the stars themselves.

Swift got her start as a songwriter and, while she has done some covers live, has written 100% of the songs that have appeared on her albums. They are deeply personal and introspective, covering her dating life. They’ve also covered her dating life. Additionally, she’s discussed her dating life.

Nolan, on the other hand, isn’t even a little afraid of covers. See, for example, “The Odyssey.” He does put his own spin on things and does produce 100% original films, but five of his 12 major studio films were based on the concepts of others, six if you include “Memento,” which started as a short story written by his brother and frequent screenwriting collaborator. And while there is romance, none of these films are even remotely personal, unless in a surprise twist it turns out that Nolan is a vigilante or perhaps does magic tricks at children’s birthday parties. We truly have no idea if he and his wife Emma Thomas even go on dates.

Then there is the matter of monoculture. Here, they are more similar, if also entirely different. Swift is the pop diva, producing hit songs for teenage girls and girls who used to be teenagers, but are now more likely thirty-something wine moms or, failing that, cool aunts. More than a few dads, particularly ones with daughters, are also known to jam her tunes. Additionally, famous non-parent Dave Portnoy is an avowed Swiftie. Tay Tay may not be the most complex songwriter, but she knows how to write the same song many different times, attracting legions of fans and having stacks of cash so tall she could fill a complex with them.

When it comes to Nolan, on the other hand, Portnoy is not really a fan. Regarding “Tenet,” he said everyone involved “should be in jail” and that “Einstein couldn’t follow it.” He does like the Batman movies. Regardless, it’s the complexity of Nolan’s movies that bothers him, and delights Nolan’s fans. His singular approach to writing and directing is to make the same movie over and over again, except each one is a labyrinthine maze of time and space, a veritable cornucopia of misdirection and sweeping artistic landscapes. And while he also stacks cash, his stacks are only in the millions compared to Swift’s billions.

The thing about the yin and the yang is that they come together. And when it comes to focusing on producing original works that delight their respective fanbases, both Swift and Nolan put in the work. These aren’t people who sit in their trailers waiting on others to do things for them. Swift releases surprise albums while on tour for a different album. The Eras Tour featured shows stretching to three hours in length, including one performed in a storm. She reinvents herself every few years. Eventually, she’ll sell cake and brownie mixes à la Dolly Parton.

Nolan is famously strict on set. He banned Uggs from filming of “The Odyssey,” because they “weirdly take you out of reality.” (And if there’s one thing to keep focused on when filming a movie about a man fighting sea monsters, it’s reality.) He doesn’t sit in his director’s chair. He tries to keep his actors and crew from using cell phones and smoking. He releases films more quickly than many streaming shows release new seasons. As with Swift, in another yin-and-yang moment, he gets people to actually go to theaters.

The most amazing thing about this dynamic duo is that there is no romantic overlap, and not just because of the age difference. Nolan met his wife in college, and they wed in 1997. Swift’s romantic history is well known and not relevant here other than the fact that she’s never dated an actor from Nolan’s roster. She and Harry Styles did spend some time together, and Styles was in “Dunkirk,” but she hasn’t been linked to anyone else from his roster.

Other than that, though, Taylor Swift and Christopher Nolan are two sides of the same coin, two individuals furiously working to create output that draws people in and keeps them invested. Both are creating works that will outlive them. Both have their detractors. Only one of them likes Uggs. That’s okay, though, because they couldn’t complement one another so well if they were the same.

As to compliments, Nolan has actually praised Swift, albeit for her decision to bypass traditional studios and deal directly with AMC for “The Eras Tour” and not for her music, but still. Because if that’s not a you got peanut butter in my chocolate/you got chocolate in my peanut butter connection, I don’t know what is.

And that is why, dear Hershey marketing executives, you should greenlight this insane campaign for Reese’s. It will defy time, place, and reason altogether. It will appeal to Einstein and to Portnoy. It will send people to the concession stand, whether the movie is “Eras 2: A New Era” or “The Odyssey 2: The Next Voyage.” Trust me, it’s going to be epic.

***

Rich Cromwell is a writer living in Northwest Arkansas. He produces the Cookin’ Up a Story podcast, which you can listen to here. You can also follow him on X: @rcromwell4