INTERSTELLAR (2014)

Before recently, I’d only seen Christopher Nolan’s science-fiction epic once, 10 years ago this month. I wasn’t sure what to make of it at the time. Parts confused me (as most Nolan films do initially), and I thought certain acts were too long or clunky. However, after revisiting this film on the big screen, I can confidently say that it is a mesmerising piece of ambitious cinema, and perhaps Nolan’s most heartfelt work.

It’s 2067. Crops are failing, and humanity is losing hope. Farmers begrudgingly toil over land that yields no harvest. Everyone avoids facing the conclusion that the Earth is dying. But as Joseph Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) soon discovers, mankind may have been born on Earth, but they were never supposed to die there. A former astronaut, he is sent on a mission to explore far-off galaxies, traversing wormholes to survey potentially habitable worlds. The future of the human race depends on the mission’s success—but the clock is ticking, and time is tragically relative.

Few filmmakers could have made a film like Interstellar, yet it should come as no real surprise: Christopher Nolan has revealed himself to be an audacious auteur without equal since the beginning of his career. Few can turn cerebral, dense plots into such a riveting blockbuster narrative. Weaving scientific theorems into syuzhets, transforming puzzle-boxes into mesmerising cinematic spectacles, the delicate balance Nolan achieves between excess and subtlety in Interstellar demonstrates an uncommon level of restraint. While Nolan’s ninth film may not be perfect, it’s undeniably impressive, intelligently enthralling, and remarkably emotive.

Having written the screenplay with his long-time collaborator (and brother) Jonathan Nolan (Westworld), the pair juxtapose weighty subjects to bring an essential, palpable humanity to this massive blockbuster. These themes are both timely and timeless, with climate disaster and love both providing the audience with familiar territory before launching deep into the unknown.

However, neither of the Nolan brothers seems intent on exploring the causes or effects of climate change in this film, really only using it as a plot device to bolster their narrative aims: Earth is dying, so space exploration is not only appealing, but direly urgent. And while space and time both (or are they just the one thing? I’m still unsure…) take up thematic space, it’s love that serves as the unshakeable bedrock of this story.

A father, who rockets into alien galaxies and circumnavigates black holes, only wants to return home to see his daughter (and we assume his son as well, though he’s rarely mentioned for some reason). Much like Cobb’s primary motivation in Inception (2010), the drive to return to one’s family ensures that the stakes always feel intimately human, regardless of how vastly supernatural the plot becomes.

Due to stellar central performances from Matthew McConaughey and Anne Hathaway (not to mention a deeply moving supporting role with Mackenzie Foy), Interstellar pulls at the heartstrings in a sublimely uncontrived manner. It’s impossible even to imagine their circumstances: isolated from their loved ones for impossibly long stretches of time, separated from any human contact at all. Yet, it’s the memory of these individuals, the ones who have made indelible imprints on their hearts, that make all of their efforts worthwhile. Perhaps if they get far enough, if they do complete the mission successfully, they will be able to see their family again, to hold their lover close to them one final time.

In this, geographical distance becomes something ineffable, something which can’t be plotted on a mere graph. Nolan wisely crystallises these moments of grief, loss, and isolation in shots almost everyone in the audience can relate to, like watching your parent walk out of the door for the final time, or the agony on a person’s face when they realise they’ll never see someone they cherish again. Though you might not ever stand lonesome on a distant planet, you surely appreciate what it means to feel isolated. Even amidst the prodigious expanse of open space and overwhelming forces of the cosmos, human emotion still feels indescribably powerful.

Part of the reason why Nolan is capable of imparting this so adeptly is due to his excellent narrative structure: there is terrific balance in almost every film he’s made. It’s evident how Nolan approaches form in the same way as a composer might approach a piece of music—there’s an almost mathematical efficiency to his plotting. At times, this can make his films feel practically antiseptic. Additionally, due to the sheer amount of exposition some of his films necessitate—particularly in the likes of Inception and Tenet (2020)—it can leave some of his characters feeling unexplored.

However, Interstellar proves to be an exception. Despite the dense subject, the story never once becomes bogged down in lengthy explanations. While discussions on quantum mechanics and Einstein’s theory of relativity will probably go over most people’s heads (I felt a large whoosh pass through my hair during some of the more theoretical dialogues), it ultimately doesn’t matter. Almost everything is entirely comprehensible: motivations are transparent, stakes are clear and concise, and riveting action captivates.

This is in no small part due to the awe-inspiring visuals. Hoyte van Hoytema’s exceptional cinematography draws in the viewer’s eye, and the exquisite set design and attention to detail keep it there. The imagination behind the creation of these distant planets is incredible, yet we never spend too long in any one location; Nolan doesn’t indulge himself in his story-worlds, unlike some directors I could mention (looking at you, James Cameron). He mesmerises, then moves on.

Furthermore, Interstellar may have jaw-dropping visuals, but it’s Hans Zimmer’s outstanding music which commands the viewer’s attention the most. There are very few pieces of film music that fit their movie quite so well, and I think this may just be Hans Zimmer’s best score. Though he’s done sensational work in films such as Gladiator (2000), The Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl (2003), and Nolan’s own Dark Knight trilogy, Inception, and Dunkirk (2017), I can’t think of any music he’s written that works as a singular piece quite as cohesively as his score for Interstellar.

It’s for this reason that any criticisms I can level towards Interstellar only sound like curmudgeonly nitpicking. And yet… there are lines of dialogue that feel rather artificial, employed only to cement thematic aims in the audience’s ears. I don’t think we needed to hear Dylan Thomas’ famous poem as many times as we did (I counted four). Most of all, I’d be remiss not to mention how Nolan’s trademark crosscutting only becomes distracting in parts of Interstellar, merely serving to diminish tension rather than heightening it.

This is particularly apparent when he intercuts between a brawl in a different galaxy (the outcome of which may just determine the survival of the human race) and a domestic dispute back on the home farm. These don’t feel remotely comparable in terms of narrative importance, and as much as I appreciate the efficacy of his editing, moving from one scene to the next without an ounce of fat on each transition, it simply feels like too much is happening. I can’t help but think these scenes deserve their own space to breathe, rather than overlapping them on top of each other.

Still, Interstellar is a fantastic film, and I can only praise Nolan for his ambition to make such projects come to life. Moreover, there are ample sequences in this sci-fi extravaganza that have you on the edge of your seat (the docking sequence is just as tense as it was 10 years ago). Whatever gripe you may have with the movie, it’s easily forgiven when juxtaposed against the sheer magnificence of the film as a whole.

After re-watching this instant classic in the cinemas, I’m desperate to see what Nolan’s next project will be. Nolan’s an auteur whose films should always be seen in the cinema, and quite frankly, I can’t imagine watching Interstellar in any other way. Its scope is phenomenal—epic doesn’t quite do it justice—and even after a decade, I’m almost left in disbelief that a film of such epic proportions could achieve such stunning grace.

USA • UK • CANADA | 2014 | 169 MINUTES | 2.39:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: Christopher Nolan.
writers: Jonathan Nolan & Christopher Nolan.
starring: Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, Ellen Burstyn, Mackenzie Foy, John Lithgow, Michael Caine, Casey Affleck, Timothée Chalamet, Wes Bentley, Bill Irwin, Topher Grace, David Gyasi & Matt Damon.