There are not many big Hollywood directors whose work I’m always impatient and excited to see. Christopher Nolan is one of those directors. The only thing I knew about Interstellar before walking into an impressive IMAX theater was that Steven Spielberg – Zeus in that Olympus of directors I’ve worshipped since I was a kid – had worked on it for a while, which only made the film more appealing to me.
When I came out, three hours later, I did it with a big smile on my face, feeling Interstellar was not only a stunning film of epic proportions but also an art piece that dares to ask big important questions about life, survival, love and time.
When I got home, I decided to read what people were saying about the film and, to my surprise, the reviews were not only mixed but most of the time talked about a different film. That reminded me of when I was in film school and a writer would present an idea for a story in class. The first reaction was not to understand what that writer wanted to do and help him achieve that but to take his idea to create a completely different film with it. “Yeah, I guess that is an interesting idea but I’m making a horror film here and not a political drama.” I feel with Interstellar critics have done the same thing. Some of them were expecting a very cerebral, metaphysical movie, closer to 2001: A Space Odyssey. Others said it was too cold and were expecting a Close Encounters of the Third Kind. Too much scientific talk; too much Dylan Thomas; too ambitious, etc. Well, Interstellar is neither Kubrick nor Spielberg but that doesn’t mean it is not deep or emotional.
In a distant future, Earth is dying. Men were too greedy and exhausted its resources. There is no place for technology or science, only farming. Dust storms cover everything and the last crops of corn are dying. Starvation or suffocation will be the only destiny of the human race unless they find another inhabitable planet where they can start over. But time is of the essence. Cooper (Matthew McConaughey proving 2013 was just the beginning of a new career), a NASA pilot and an engineer working as a farmer, will lead the expedition that can save the human race. By accepting this mission he has to leave his children behind, a decision that will torment him forever. And because, following Einstein’s theories, time is relative and an hour in a distant planet could be 23 years on Earth, Cooper’s children’s lives will slip through his fingers like water. In one of the best scenes in the film, Cooper sits in front of a screen to listen to the messages his son has left for over 20 years. In that touching moment, a superb McConaughey is able to portray regret, loss, happiness, despair and guilt, but also hope.
Time is something that Nolan worries about and this is not the first time he’s explored its compression and dilation (2010′s Inception). I don’t need to understand the scientific talk and the Relativity Theory to understand that time is relative. Nor does anyone else. Don’t the hands of your watch move very slow the week before a first date? Don’t you count the minutes to get out of a boring class? On the other hand, haven’t you come back home after a year abroad to notice your parents are older or your niece is suddenly talking and wonder where were you? Haven’t you looked back to see that 5 years or 10 years just went by? That our lives will be over in the blink of an eye? Like astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson says, we are prisoners of time. At least, here on Earth.
The other idea that seems to throw people off is that love is a big part of the scientific solution to a very complex equation that could eventually save us. At the same time, when we talk about leaving a better planet to our children or when we talk about the survival of the species, what are we talking about if not the people we love? I personally could care less about some genetic material that could create human life on another planet. I care about my family and my friends, the people I love. And it’s Cooper’s love for his daughter Murphy (Mackenzie Foy/Jessica Chastain) that brings us to the most amazing and visually striking scene in the film: a three-dimensional representation of the fourth dimension, time, in which Cooper can access a specific location simultaneously at all possible times. This is how he is able to travel in time to deliver a message to his daughter.
Besides its thematic ambition, Interstellar is also a film of a scale we rarely see anymore. The beautiful imagery that Nolan creates (please go see it in IMAX 70 mm. if you can) and its relationship with sound is one of the most cinematic experiences I’ve ever had. On top of that, the film has powerful performances; analogue and hipper realistic visual effects; amazing robots… and Hans Zimmer’s best score since The Lion King and Gladiator.
In the final twist of Interstellar we learn that those “beings” that helped humans understand how to escape Earth were none other than the humans of the future. As if Nolan was a humanist from the Renaissance believing in Protagoras’s statement of “men are the measure of all things,” he seems to believe that if we ask the big questions, if we explore and wander, we can accomplish anything. And that is a beautiful way of seeing the world.
“Do not go gentle into that good night / Old age should burn and rage at close of day/ Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” (Dylan Thomas)
Review written by Andrés Rosende
Andrés Rosende is an LA based writer and director. He holds an MFA in screenwriting and directing from Columbia University. His films have played at festivals around the globe including Cannes, Sitges, Cleveland and South by Southwest, winning more than 40 international awards.