Friday, November 7, 2014

Interstellar

For some reason the vast, incomprehensible expanse we know as space inspires some of the greatest filmmakers to want to tell great stories about family relationships. It's not that big of a mystery: contemplating the infinite and immeasurable is daunting, almost traumatic, when confronted full in the face. When facing the possibility of complete oblivion and meaninglessness it seems natural to focus on what is most meaningful and dear and search for significance there. Most recently there was Alfonso Cuaron's Gravity taking a John Donne-sian ("No man is an island") approach comparing the isolation of space to social remoteness. Another great entry of this type is Robert Zemeckis's Contact, doing a more traditional, but no less inspiring, take on the "are we alone?" question based on the theories of Carl Sagan. Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey holds legendary status, and rightly so, as he partnered with Arthur C. Clarke, one of the greatest sci-fi writers of all time, to examine the existence of humanity itself. Heck, even Steven Spielberg took a couple cracks at it with E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And now Christopher Nolan books his entry in this impressive field of work with Interstellar, a visually-stunning and powerful movie arguing for nothing less than the literal cosmic power of love.

Ok, if you can handle the very last little bit of that last paragraph (singing only a little bit of Huey Lewis & the News to yourself) then you are prepped and ready for Interstellar. There are one or two moments during Christopher Nolan's expansive IMAX-ready epic that tackle that point very directly and I commend him and his brother and writing-partner, Jonathan, for putting some bare moments in the film that really cut back the layers to communicate so directly to the audience. Because despite its seemingly formidable length (2 hours and 49 minutes that flew by), Nolan seems to have ensured that every bit of the movie serves the story and provides cinematic and entertainment value.

One of the most obvious of a number of elements that make Interstellar a masterpiece is a great cast. Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, and Jessica Chastain are top-level actors on par with the high-level talent that Nolan is able to attract to his projects (Hathaway having worked with him previously on The Dark Night Rises). McConaughey plays Cooper, an astronaut-turned-farmer in a world that's dying and a society that's given up on space travel - and almost science altogether. Mackenzie Foy plays his young daughter Murph and shares the part with Chastain as her adult counterpart: the two actresses fit the character nicely. Coop and Murph stumble (or do they?) on an old mentor/teacher of Cooper's, Professor Brand played by Nolan-regular Michael Caine, who has a use for his unused astronaut skills. Anne Hathaway is Brand's daughter Amelia, a member of the crew planning to travel through a wormhole that has popped up near Saturn and seems to provide some promising prospects for a second home for humanity. Epic interstellar-ness ensues. As the film progresses Nolan tackles the theory of relativity and black holes. The support cast, including a surprising unbilled cameo, inspire excitement and confidence.

At the heart of the story is the relationship between Coop and Murph. In an article in The Guardian, Nolan reveals that part of what drives this movie is his reflection on his own relationship with his children. Let that idea sink in as you're watching. Interstellar dives into some pretty heady relativistic theory that, in essence, means his daughter is aging faster than him. Their relationship goes through some traumatic episodes and, when considered by the film's end, covers decades of time with very little direct interaction from the point that he leaves on his mission to "save the world." The core of what Interstellar examines, rather than the reality of relativistic space travel and the decline of the human race (both of which are explored believably and thought-provokingly, each deserving of their own analysis) is how the bond of love between these people somehow makes a real, physical, and lasting connection.

Visually, Interstellar is the direct descendant of Kubrick's aforementioned 2001. Nolan takes the audience past the rings of Saturn, through a wormhole and into a number of unique environments that are truly worthy of comparison with 2001. If you've ever had the chance to see Hubble 3D at an IMAX theater then you have a taste of what you're in for here. Filmed on it to a greater proportion than any of his previous films, Nolan's preferred format for viewing this movie is on 70mm IMAX film. Luckily I live mere minutes from a properly-outfitted theater. Did you know a true IMAX screen is a giant square? Nolan takes full advantage of the format's capabilities, providing, through both sight and sound, the most "immersive" experience possible. I must say that the Sacramento Esquire Theater didn't disappoint and I highly recommend taking advantage of the opportunity to enjoy this movie as its creator intended (find a theater here). The fuller picture and core-breaching sound provide a sensational, cinematic experience that makes a pickup driving through cornfields, a shuttle-like blast off, and relativistic space travel equally enthralling. It's worth it just for that aspect alone. Apart from stunning imagery and great acting, Hans Zimmer's score and some truly amazing and dynamic sound design round out the most obvious pieces of what makes this movie great.