A career-best Matthew McConaughey as Cooper, waking up after dreaming of his aerial crash.
NOTE: This review contains MAJOR SPOILERS
Expectations can be a troublesome thing. If a filmmaker, such as Steven Spielberg or Martin Scorsese, consistently releases terrific features, their next film will have to satisfy increasingly lofty expectations. Another director similar to the aforementioned greats is Christopher Nolan, whose most recent work Interstellar was arguably the most widely-anticipated of his career. Considering that it was arriving after his phenomenally successful The Dark Knight Trilogy had concluded, it’s no surprise that so many were feverishly anticipating its release. A string of trailers further raised excitement, as the thought of Nolan venturing into the stars was a tantalising one indeed. Thus, expectations were naturally quite high. However, everything didn’t pan out as all had predicted (or hoped). In only a few days after its release, Interstellar had established itself as Nolan’s most polarising work. Some declared the film as a “masterpiece”, others believed that it was “flawed but enjoyable”, while some argued that it was “Nolan’s worst film”. Personally, I fall in line with the first and consider it to be Nolan’s greatest work, even though on my initial viewing I would have aligned myself with the second opinion. Nonetheless, it is rather easy to see why Interstellar is the most divisive film of Nolan’s career; the marketing and the expectations it raised had a lot to do with this.
Interstellar is not the film it was marketed as or the film many expected/wanted it to be. The promotional material, ranging from the posters to the trailers, presented the movie as tale of human exploration. In particular, the teaser trailer was mishandled as it featured Matthew McConaughey’s Cooper narrating stock footage showcasing the technological progress of the human race. remarking that “We’re still pioneers”, and how “Our destiny lies above us.” Being the first footage released, it misdirected those who saw it, causing them to believe that Interstellar is primarily concerned with human endeavour and mankind finding a home among the stars. Frequent comparisons to 2001: A Space Odyssey, especially from Nolan himself, were also misleading, as Interstellar possesses very little similarities with Kubrick’s masterwork, most of which exist on a superficial level. After its release, some viewers believed the film to be a half-baked disappointment that fails to explore its concepts about human exploration, dropping them in favour of mushy sentimentality. Yet, they are wrong, because Interstellar is not a science fiction movie at its core; it is a love story. This is perfectly evidenced by the fact that prior to production, Nolan handed composer Hans Zimmer a single sheet describing his next feature. That page described a love between a father and child and never referred to science fiction elements. Subsequently, this is Nolan’s most sentimental film, throbbing with a human heart from start to finish. Around the midpoint, Dr. Amelia Brand (an excellent Anne Hathaway) delivers a speech that perfectly encapsulates what this film is truly about,
“Love isn’t something that we invented. It’s observable. Powerful. It has to mean something… Love is the one thing that we’re capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that, even if we can’t understand it.”
Cooper with his young daughter Murph, as played by the “luminous” Mackenzie Foy.
Interstellar is a film about love, specifically the love between a father and daughter. The relationship between Cooper and Murph (played by Mackenzie Foy, Jessica Chastain and Ellen Burstyn) is beautifully realised and deeply touching. I particularly love the moment where an emotional Cooper is leaving home to embark on the expedition and he lifts up the blanket on the passenger seat to see if Murph has sneaked into his truck like she did earlier. His reaction when he discovers that she isn’t there is subtle and heartbreaking. While only a brief touch, it adds so much and further emphasises the love he has for his child. Moreover, this tangible bond grounds the movie even during its most fantastical moments, especially the climactic sequence in the tesseract, which could have seemed ridiculous but, doesn’t thanks to the strong undercurrent of humanity and genuine emotion. It also results in a number of tear-jerking scenes, a considerable rarity in the work of Nolan. The moments that really had me welling up were Cooper’s goodbye to Murph at the farm, a shaken Cooper watching 23 years worth of messages and Cooper’s final encounter with his now-elderly daughter. Strong performances greatly aid the relationship and such emotional sequences. Foy is luminous as the young Murph, superbly combining innocence with a sense of intelligence beyond her years. Chastain is similarly excellent, strong-willed and independent, while also utterly convincing in conveying her character’s development from resenting to eventually loving her father. Burstyn is reliably watchable and rather effective, despite only appearing in a single scene during the epilogue. McConaughey, on the other hand, has never been better. A fantastic protagonist, he is flawed, magnetic, fascinating and most importantly, relatable. McConaughey is wholly believable as a loving father and plays a significant role in the effectiveness of the more sentimental moments.
The supporting cast are also fantastic. Like McConaughey, Hathaway is at her finest here. Starting off quite unlikeable and icy, Brand develops into a more emotional character and becomes Cooper’s friend, which Hathaway sells with the utmost conviction. Michael Caine is perfectly adequate as Brand’s father, imbuing proceedings with a sense of gravitas. As Cooper’s benevolent father-in-law Donald, John Lithgow is an understated delight, reaffirming his status as one of the most criminally underrated actors around. Casey Affleck, Wes Bentley and David Gyasi are all solid, as Cooper’s adult son Tom and fellow astronauts Doyle and Romily, respectively. All of the characters feel real, as if they existed long before the film began. One of the most surprising is the monolith-esque robot TARS. So many cinematic robots are humanlike in design, thus it’s refreshing to see a robot primarily designed in a practical fashion. Furthermore, it’s a credit to Bill Irwin’s fantastic voice-work that TARS is such an engaging and memorable character who I came to care for. One cast member shrouded in much secrecy prior to the film’s release was Matt Damon as Dr. Mann. Excellent in the role, he convincingly conveys his unstable mental state with nuance. His attempts to lie to Cooper and the crew become clear on repeat viewings, showcasing the layers to Damon’s performance. It’s nice to see Damon try his hand at playing such a selfish, cowardly and tragic figure. Additionally, while some viewers felt that Damon was distracting, it’s possible that they mightn’t have had the character been played by a lesser-known actor.
The breathtaking docking sequence.
Interstellar is also a remarkable technical achievement for Nolan. Once again, his dedication to practical effects works wonders and adds a powerful sense of physicality to proceedings. For the heart-pounding sequence on Miller’s planet, Nolan had the spacecraft land on the water with the actors stepping out of it in costume. An approach like that will always be more impressive than the greatest CGI backdrop. The use of miniatures during the space scenes helps to make them more believable and favourably recalls the methods used in Star Wars or 2001: A Space Odyssey. The setpieces are the greatest Nolan has ever delivered, from the aforementioned water planet scene to Cooper blasting off into space. However, the ten-minute sequence consisting of Dr. Mann’s unsuccessful attempt to dock on space station the Endurance and Cooper’s subsequent, successful docking is one of the most breathtaking setpieces ever committed to celluloid. Interstellar is also notable for being the smoothest that Christopher and Jonathan Nolan have incorporated exposition. Even superb films like Inception and The Dark Knight Rises featured moments that simply felt like exposition dumps. While this film does indeed contain scenes that verge on this, they manage to work. Though, it is questionable why a team of elite scientists would need to discuss concepts such as relativity with each other, when in reality, they would already be quite familiar with them. However, given that the majority of viewers would have no experience with such concepts, this is easily forgivable.
Nolan once again works brilliantly with his collaborators, resulting in Interstellar being his best looking and sounding film to date. Despite the absence of long-time collaborator Wally Pfister, the cinematography from Hoyte van Hoytema is incredible and Malickian in its beauty. From a quiet moment of Cooper and Donald sitting on the porch to the expanse of the ice planet, the visuals are consistently breathtaking. The use of 35mm and 70mm film imbues the cinematography with a richness and tangibility. The CGI, though sparingly used, is so great that it’s invisible, particularly in the jawdropping entrance into wormhole. Zimmer’s score is not only the greatest he has applied to a Nolan film, but the greatest of his entire career. Clearly taking influence from Philip Glass’ hypnotic score to Koyaanisqatsi (one of my all-time favourites), Zimmer’s work here is remarkable and quite unlike anything else currently in mainstream cinema, centring on an extraordinarily powerful pipe organ. Combined with the visuals, the score really helps to make Interstellar an ‘experience’ that is magical to behold on the biggest screen possible.
Anne Hathaway as Dr. Amelia Brand.
However, as brilliant as this film is, it’s not flawless. There is considerable suspension of disbelief throughout, particularly during the third act – Cooper’s floating body being located just in time, TARS getting a signal through to Cooper in the tesseract and Murph’s realisation that Cooper is her ‘ghost’. Moreover, it is questionable why humans would colonise a habit orbiting a black hole. Murph’s ecstatic cry of “Eureka!” after her climactic revelation is a rather clunky moment. 15 minutes in, there is cutback to one of the interviews from the start that jars greatly. Also, it would have been nice to see the film conclude on a more thought-provoking final shot, in the way that Inception or The Dark Knight Rises did, instead of showing Brand looking onwards. The epilogue is arguably unnecessary, because the story essentially concludes with Cooper successfully getting his message through to Murph. Yet, Cooper and Murph’s last scene is so poignant and moving that the problems of the final few minutes are easily forgivable. In fact, none of the film’s flaws detract from the overall experience and actually become easier to overlook on repeat viewings.
Interstellar has stayed with like few films ever have, lingering in my mind on a daily basis months after first seeing it. It reminded me why I go the cinema and reaffirmed my love of the art form. Hugely rewarding repeat viewings, it gets better every time I see it. Despite its lengthy 169-minute runtime, it never drags and is always engrossing. Refreshingly earnest and crafted with love, there isn’t a hint of cynicism to be found here. So many technically impeccable films are emotionally cold, whether it be much of Kubrick’s work or even Inception; but not Interstellar. Rich with emotion and sincerity, it combines the technical sophistication of Kubrick with the effective sentimentality of Spielberg. This is the greatest achievement of Nolan’s career and as far as I’m concerned, one of the greatest films of the decade thus far.
cinema from the basement 