Interstellar review: Nolan delves into deep space only to leave his audience behind
Christopher Nolan’s epic space adventure promises the universe, but delivers a disappointingly sentimental message
(Picture from Paramount Pictures, Warner Bros. and Legendary Productions)
Christopher Nolan is in no doubt that size matters. In his mind big is best. From the gloomy and socially relatable Dark Knight trilogy to the mind bending, but scientifically inspired Inception, his name has become synonymous with the grandiose and cinematically epic. Interstellar exemplifies that auteur quality, promising to achieve brilliance beyond the comprehension of most directors. But in doing so, he has forgotten about his audience.
The scene is set on a famine stricken, dust covered Earth, where the few remaining humans live primarily to produce corn. Matthew McConaughey’s Cooper is a frustrated ex NASA pilot who still believes mankind is meant for more than just farming. “We used to look up at the sky and wonder about our place in the stars, now we just look down and worry about our place in the dirt.” He says, as if forced by the film’s mechanically driven script. It turns out he was right. And as NASA boss Professor Brand (Michael Caine) confirms, with an idiot-proof stamp of approval, “We’re not meant to save Earth, we’re meant to leave it”. Naturally, Cooper is the only one fit to pilot a ship into the unknown, but he is now faced with possibility of never seeing his family again.
NASA scientists, under the operation name ‘Lazarus’, have discovered a wormhole that conveniently leads to potential new homes for the human race. Why the wormhole is there is uncertain, but Brand’s daughter Amelia (Anne Hathaway) is quick to jump to the conclusion of supernatural interaction, casually referring to it as ‘they’. This is the first sign that Nolan’s most ‘real’ science fiction film to date is about to spiral into the sentimentally absurd.
Interstellar promised to be a realistic space adventure and, for the first half, it delivered. Unsatisfyingly, that research robust element is depicted almost entirely on chalkboards and in Cooper’s cute diagram of how to avoid a black hole. Essential as these scenes may be, the characters are literally discussing rocket science, relativity and metaphysics, making the audience’s attention almost pointless.
All of this effort however, to create a ‘true’ piece of science fiction, is for nothing when the emphasis changes to a message of sentiment. Hathaway’s Amelia increasingly concerns herself with the involvement of ‘they’, uncharacteristically favouring the power of love over logic. The relevance of her emotions reminds us that this is a controlled, trademark Nolan product and not the adventurous, space opera it promised to be.
The strong writing influence of Nolan’s brother, Jonathon, ends up producing a story structurally identical to Memento, while the IMAX appropriate cinematography and visual effects are similar, yet an improvement on Inception. Expectedly, it is magnificent to look at – new planet environments, black holes and wormholes all realistically imagined. Coupled with Hans Zimmers’ religoise organ-reliant score, every cinematic element of Interstellar attempts to subvert its audience, as does its story. But despite promising the truly epic, Nolan ultimately delivers a shallow, sentimental message.
Chris Edwards - CynicalCME
