Interstellar Review

Where no film has gone before

Film review by Isaac Handelman

After taking us deep into the human mind for his previous original directorial outing, Christopher Nolan has reversed course, propelling viewers to the farthest reaches of the universe in his latest “I”-word titled blockbuster. Interstellar is beyond grand; its scale is so immense that, even given its gargantuan three-hour runtime, the sheer scope of the film can be difficult to wrap one’s head around. Spanning from rural America to a mystical galaxy beyond the Milky Way, Interstellar’s imperfections are downplayed by its astonishing ambition, breathtaking visuals, and surprising emotional sophistication.

At an unidentified point in the near-future, humanity has exhausted most of Earth’s natural resources, with food and oxygen lined up as the next to go. NASA-pilot-turned-corn-farmer Cooper (McConaughey) is soon guided back to his career roots, employed by Dr. Brand (Caine) of NASA to lead a mission through a wormhole in an attempt to find a suitable new home for humanity. He’s accompanied by Brand’s daughter Amelia (Hathaway), a pair of engineers, and a sarcastic robot called TARS; together, they comprise the crew of the Endurance craft.

Cooper’s decision to undertake the mission is made difficult by the prospect of leaving behind his children, most notably his daughter, Murphy (Mackenzie Foy). Predictably, Cooper promises his daughter that he will return, but their would-be tender goodbye breaks down when he fails to provide her with a return date. Once in space, they’re able to keep in touch only through periodic video messages pinged back and forth. As relativity takes its toll on the passage of time, Interstellar trudges into some truly heart-wrenching territory that’s bound to elicit emotional responses from children and parents alike. Past Nolan efforts like Inception and The Prestige used the protagonist’s kids as extra tear-bait, but here, Cooper’s relationships with Murphy and, to a lesser extent, his son Tom, prove to be highly compelling.

Of course, most of Interstellar’s duration is not spent dwelling on Cooper’s loss, for better or for worse. Taking a peek out the window of the crew’s ship leads one to almost entirely forget such personal drama. The film is visually resplendent, to be sure, but not a single synonym for “pretty” fully describes what Interstellar looks like on a big screen. Interstellar realizes the scope of the universe to an extent that no film has before. Nolan continually portrays the Endurance as a tiny speck on a myriad of vast, exquisitely crafted space vistas.

Hans Zimmer’s untraditional score is more restrained than we’re used to hearing from the usually-grand, booming composer. Its subdued reliance on soft, synthy melodies complements the film’s setting, and calls to mind sci-fi soundtracks of old, most notably Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

But Cooper and company aren’t floating among the stars for peaceful, music-infused sight-seeing; they’re on a desperate quest. They’re humanity’s last hope. As familiar a plight as that may sound, screenwriters John and Christopher Nolan prove once again how good they are at imbuing a story with rich basis for discussion and pondering -- even if it doesn’t completely deliver on its attempts at political or social subtexts. They keep things moving along at a steady pace.

As the Endurance crew travels between planets, their physical and psychological endurances are continually tested in interesting ways. The gravity of their quest is conveyed with grace, lending each of their actions and decision a sense of thrilling urgency, and most of the conflicts tie in well with the film’s larger purposes.

In fact, the screenplay takes only takes one unnecessary detour, though it happens to be a big one. For around forty minutes, Interstellar stalls, covering about as much narrative ground as could have been covered in five, and shoehorning in an extended pseudo-cameo that borders on distracting. It's a disappointing though unsurprising misstep, given that knowing where to stop has never been one of Christopher Nolan's greatest strengths.

Taken purely on its own terms, Interstellar is usually quite good at explaining itself in ways that make sense. Though is existentiality can be overbearing -- most notably during a dreadful monologue about “love” -- the film boils down complex sciences to levels comprehensible by the average moviegoer while rarely sounding goofy, an achievement in and of itself.

Interstellar’s single greatest sin is its failure to come together as a seamless whole as some of Nolan’s previous outings do so nimbly. Though the majority of the film’s narrative is rooted in legitimate scientific theories, the finale dips its toes into the realm of the preposterous. The Nolan brothers try their best to tie the story up in a neat little bow while simultaneously blowing everyone’s minds, and succeed at doing neither, instead presenting a tangle of confounding explanations.

But those willing to accept Interstellar as an “about the journey, not the destination” type film are bound to come away thoroughly satisfying. Having such an outlook on the film is fitting, given how willingly it flings itself into uncharted territory. It's a flawed but a one-of-a-kind cinematic experience that’s deserving of every ounce of praise, debate and discussion that are bound to surround it. If you buy in, Interstellar will wow you, surprise you, and might just make you cry. Its value is tough to quantify on a simple five-star scale. What's important for you to know is that you should see it.