INTERSTELLAR: Rage Against The Dying of The Light

[A Review]

Every once in a great while, a film comes along that changes not only how one feels about a particular genre, but also how one feels about cinema, in general. Interstellar happens to be one of those films, according to this author. Now, before you stereotype me as a brainless "Nolanite" - whatever that term could possibly mean - hear me out. What I'm saying is that whenever true greatness has been achieved, simply give credit where credit is due. 

"But 'greatness' is a subjective attribute, a matter of opinion," say you all. "Not necessarily," would be my response. Let me explain.

As any connoisseur of film will tell you, what makes a movie truly great is its ability to tell a story. While there are, naturally, other considerations to take into account, such as characterization, dialogue, editing, cinematography, technical abilities (production value, for instance), and more, and while many of the above listed characteristics play into a director's ability to tell a story well, at the heart of any given classic of cinema is its story!

There's a particular phenomenon I've noticed that tends to propagate throughout the pop culture mass market during the long and successful career of any given director, actor, musician, or other public figure who has actually achieved remarkable feats: hatred of his or her success for the sake of hating successful, hardworking artists. This kind of seething, venomous (and from my perspective, utterly useless) vitriol can be witnessed across all mediums of communication, but the best place to see such bile spewed is - you guessed it - in the YouTube comments on videos promoting the work of a skilled artist. 

Take note of Christopher Nolan's prior notable works, such as Inception or The Dark Knight, and the kind of positive praise and admiration they - initially - received from the public at large. Now, while many of the public still do appreciate Nolan's hard work in such brilliant experiences as The Dark Knight Rises and, while we're on the topic, Interstellar, there seems to be a small group of those who have established some sort of anti-Nolan movement merely for the sake of rebellion. This sort of purposeless, counterproductive revulsion serves not to establish Nolan's haters as "smart" or "hip" or "over it," as they would love you to think, but rather to demonstrate their pathetic inability to grasp the fact that some artists really do regularly pump out extremely high-quality, consistently astounding work, often for decades on end. Some people cannot stand that fact, and they will do their best to trivialize, to downplay, and to nitpick any new admission to an artist's repertoire. With that little matter out of the way - and with many who read this writing me off as a "fanboy" - let's address the topic at hand.

The basic premise of Interstellar is simple enough: because the Earth is no longer able to sustain human life due to the "blight," which has consumed - and, consequently, destroyed - nearly all crops (save corn), we, Homo sapiens, must seek out a new home. But, as everyone knows, because our solar system harbors no other planets or moons capable of sustaining human life, "we must confront the reality of interstellar travel," as Professor Brand (Michael Caine) puts it. With no options locally, and the nearest star systems unfathomably distant, humanity is essentially kaput. But wait! In a twist that, at first, seems a little too convenient to be true (but, which, is explained later on), a traversable wormhole appears - in a clever nod to Kubrickian mythology - near Saturn. As we have figured out, in the seemingly near future, that stable wormholes are not a natural phenomenon, we deduce that someone put it there. Whoever "they" are, they must be looking out for us.

Our hero of the tale, Cooper (in one of Matthew McConaughey's finest performances as a pilot-turned-farmer), is mysteriously led to the secret headquarters of America's (now clandestine) space agency, NASA, by way of the brilliance of his own ten year-old daughter, Murphy. When "Murph," as she is endearingly known by her father, notices that a "ghost" has been shoving books off of her shelves as a means of communicating binary coordinates, she is initially dismissed by her dad as having too active an imagination. But when these coordinates are actually investigated, and they both stumble upon the location given - NASA - everything changes.

While at first interrogated and treated as a trespasser, Cooper eventually comes to learn of the wormhole and, ultimately, NASA's plans to save our species. Not only had NASA already sent probes through the wormhole, but also twelve brilliant scientists, each to their own planet on the other side of the wormhole, to explore and relay their findings back to Earth. With three pings from these twelve initial explorations giving the "thumbs up," NASA knows that there are, in fact, viable options for a new home in the universe. As he was once a pilot for that very agency, Cooper is asked to be the one who pilots the mission to find us a new home. Both Professor Brand (Caine) and his daughter, Amelia (Anne Hathaway, in a reliable-but-nothing-special kind of performance as an astrobiologist) lay it all out simply for him.

• Plan A: Make the two-year journey to Saturn aboard the Endurance (the last versatile spacecraft available to humanity), go through the wormhole, meet up with the three scientists giving the thumbs up, and decide which of the three systems is best to host our species for the rest of time. By the time the Endurance crew returns, claims Professor Brand, he will have solved the "problem of gravity," thus enabling humans to harness gravity for themselves and to launch a massive centrifuge carrying the remainder of Earth's population through the wormhole to their new home.
• Plan B: In case Professor Brand fails to solve the equation, the Endurance is stocked with a "population bomb," a genetically diverse, refrigerated case of fertilized embryos that, when carried by surrogate mothers, would ultimately result in the survival and propagation of our species. This bomb would be implemented on the best possible system (as chosen by the crew of the Endurance), thus assuring humans survive even if Brand cannot solve the gravity problem.

After a contentious goodbye to Murph, Cooper accepts the mission. As the crew of the Endurance launches into orbit, acclimates to centrifugal gravity, and settles in for the long cryo-sleep journey to Saturn (all of which involve some of the most stunning science fiction imagery ever put to screen, and comparable to that of 2001: A Space Odyssey), their families endure the heartache and confusion of having to bid farewell, and Brand begins his quest to solve his problematic equation. 

After two years, the Endurance personnel wake to find themselves right where they wanted to be: in view of Saturn and only three hours from the wormhole. Following a spectacular intergalactic traversal through this spacetime bridge - something that should be experienced in theaters by everyone at least once in their lives - the four brave souls arrive in the foreign galaxy. With three potential candidates to investigate, and with limited resources aboard to do so, the crew has some tough decisions to make. While I can't go much further with the plot without giving away anything, I can say that their first visit to a prospective new home is an adventure in and of itself, and well worth the entire price of a theatrical admission. That scene pales, in comparison, however, to the ultimate finale and the climax of this science fiction epic, which can only be described as magnificent, ethereal, and breathtaking - in the best and most impressive senses of those terms.

It's clear that Nolan has taken some lessons from Kubrick here on the art of cinema and of science fiction, especially, but don't let that fool you into thinking that Interstellar is derivative or unoriginal. Many of the outer space shots and much of the art direction is - in my opinion - the pinnacle of human achievement in the field of movie making. The world is lucky, frankly, to have a man like Nolan to guide and inspire the rest of us by making so many masterpieces so often, but this film takes his artistic and technical abilities to entirely new heights. 

Every fight these brave, capable characters undertake is a true demonstration of Nolan's abilities as a director, and each scene intended to have you on the edge of your seat will literally have you doing just that. Unlike any film I've seen before, and unlike any theatrical experience I've had before, this film is a universe unto itself. Hans Zimmer's organ-driven score propels the tension and the suspense to glorious new heights, while the science of relativity and astrophysics (co-written by physicist Kip Thorne) both inspire and confound one's critical faculties. Sometimes things just come together for a director and his crew, and often, a great movie is the result of very hard work; here, both apply - everything just works. Easily Nolan's greatest achievement to date, and justifiably positioned as the #15 film of all time on IMDB.com, Interstellar is one that cannot be passed up. Eschew the hate, the negativity, and the cynicism, and hold on for the cinematic ride of your life!

FINAL SCORE: 99 / 100