Interstellar. (12A.)
Directed by Christopher Nolan.
Starring Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, David Gyasi, John Lithgow, Wes Bentley and Michael Caine. 166 mins.
Christopher Nolan is a contradictory figure – a stick-in-the-mud visionary; a man who will happily do comic book or fantasy movies, but in a sensible grown-up way. Having concluded all his superhero duties he has now attempted to make a big serious sci-fi epic of space exploration, but grounded in a human dimension. Basically, Insterstellar is Kubrick's 2001, but with tears. And he's just the man to do it. He is the biggest hitting mainstream director in the world right now, but only Nolan would start a mind-blowing journey into the unknown with a 45 minute section in dust bowl Midwest farmland.
The opening section on earth is so drab you initially wonder why they would want to waste perfectly good, very expensive 70mm/Imax cameras on filming these deary vistas. Even the NASA HQ is as grey and featureless as the exterior of the National Theatre. Once it takes off though the space travel shots are breathtakingly believable, like they were filmed on location. The brilliance and wonder of these scenes can't be overstated. The film is incredible when it is recreating what we know. But, like the prosaic dreamscapes in Inception, it is less wondrous when it comes to imagining the unknown. Also it doesn't have the visual imagination to adequately communicate its finale.
The Earth is dying due to an agricultural disaster and a mission is launched into the stars to find a new planet to colonize. It is led by McConaughey, who has to abandon his family and leave them on Earth. It's a race against time, but nobody is rushing anywhere and it will test many people’s patience. There is a point halfway through where the crew are discussing what to do next when i sensed that the audience was beginning to turn; the man next to me was getting quietly irate, sighing loudly and fidgetting. At one point he even made a get-a-move on gesture at the screen.
Interstellar has a go at being many films – Field of Dreams, Close Encounters, Contact – but the one it keeps coming back to is 2001: A Space Odyssey. The story structure is basically the same, right down to the placement of the wormhole that will propel them to another galaxy being just one planet on from the location of the Star Gate in 2001. The Star Gate scene is one of several scenes from 2001 which are recreated by Nolan here in conscious attempts to top similar moments in Kubrick’s film. Hans Zimmer's score (magnificent as always) includes a few chords of Strauss's Also Spake Zarathustra while the film’s computer is like a cross between the Monolith and a Rubik’s cube.
Interstellar is a contradictory mix: bold and timid, breathtaking and drab, transcendent yet petty. It is remarkble in so many direction and afterwards I felt mightily impressed by it and a little protective of it (it is very open, heartfelt film and is likely to get some fierce flack from those who feel under entertained.) But I wasn't awed by it. Frustratingly its flaw seem just a little bit too big to overlook. It is slack in so many places and kind of pedantic, taking its time to explain everything. The only ambiguities are when mumbling McConaughey does the exposition. (It should be noted how poorly much of the dialogue has been recorded. McConaughey is magnificent in the lead role, but I doubt I made up more than 50% of what he said. Most of his delivery seems to be pure drawl, unencumbered by actual words.)
When it came out, 2001 was criticised for its lack of humanity and drama. Trying to reverse that is an obvious, logical ploy but, at the risk of sounding like a gigantic misanthrope, ultimately it’s the human drama that holds it back. Surely proper Sci-fi should offer a transcending view of our existence; it should make us seem more than we are already. But if we can only grapple with wormholes and quantum mechanics through the prism of tales of father/ daughter estrangement it just diminishes us. I know Captain McConaughey is broken up about having to leave his family on Earth and boo hoo on all that, but when the captain of a spaceship perched on the edge of black hole is only concerned about getting back to see his daughter it just makes the human race look a bit small time. He's showing us up in front of the whole Universe.
Directed by Christopher Nolan.
Starring Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, David Gyasi, John Lithgow, Wes Bentley and Michael Caine. 166 mins.
Christopher Nolan is a contradictory figure – a stick-in-the-mud visionary; a man who will happily do comic book or fantasy movies, but in a sensible grown-up way. Having concluded all his superhero duties he has now attempted to make a big serious sci-fi epic of space exploration, but grounded in a human dimension. Basically, Insterstellar is Kubrick's 2001, but with tears. And he's just the man to do it. He is the biggest hitting mainstream director in the world right now, but only Nolan would start a mind-blowing journey into the unknown with a 45 minute section in dust bowl Midwest farmland.
The opening section on earth is so drab you initially wonder why they would want to waste perfectly good, very expensive 70mm/Imax cameras on filming these deary vistas. Even the NASA HQ is as grey and featureless as the exterior of the National Theatre. Once it takes off though the space travel shots are breathtakingly believable, like they were filmed on location. The brilliance and wonder of these scenes can't be overstated. The film is incredible when it is recreating what we know. But, like the prosaic dreamscapes in Inception, it is less wondrous when it comes to imagining the unknown. Also it doesn't have the visual imagination to adequately communicate its finale.
The Earth is dying due to an agricultural disaster and a mission is launched into the stars to find a new planet to colonize. It is led by McConaughey, who has to abandon his family and leave them on Earth. It's a race against time, but nobody is rushing anywhere and it will test many people’s patience. There is a point halfway through where the crew are discussing what to do next when i sensed that the audience was beginning to turn; the man next to me was getting quietly irate, sighing loudly and fidgetting. At one point he even made a get-a-move on gesture at the screen.
Interstellar has a go at being many films – Field of Dreams, Close Encounters, Contact – but the one it keeps coming back to is 2001: A Space Odyssey. The story structure is basically the same, right down to the placement of the wormhole that will propel them to another galaxy being just one planet on from the location of the Star Gate in 2001. The Star Gate scene is one of several scenes from 2001 which are recreated by Nolan here in conscious attempts to top similar moments in Kubrick’s film. Hans Zimmer's score (magnificent as always) includes a few chords of Strauss's Also Spake Zarathustra while the film’s computer is like a cross between the Monolith and a Rubik’s cube.
Interstellar is a contradictory mix: bold and timid, breathtaking and drab, transcendent yet petty. It is remarkble in so many direction and afterwards I felt mightily impressed by it and a little protective of it (it is very open, heartfelt film and is likely to get some fierce flack from those who feel under entertained.) But I wasn't awed by it. Frustratingly its flaw seem just a little bit too big to overlook. It is slack in so many places and kind of pedantic, taking its time to explain everything. The only ambiguities are when mumbling McConaughey does the exposition. (It should be noted how poorly much of the dialogue has been recorded. McConaughey is magnificent in the lead role, but I doubt I made up more than 50% of what he said. Most of his delivery seems to be pure drawl, unencumbered by actual words.)
When it came out, 2001 was criticised for its lack of humanity and drama. Trying to reverse that is an obvious, logical ploy but, at the risk of sounding like a gigantic misanthrope, ultimately it’s the human drama that holds it back. Surely proper Sci-fi should offer a transcending view of our existence; it should make us seem more than we are already. But if we can only grapple with wormholes and quantum mechanics through the prism of tales of father/ daughter estrangement it just diminishes us. I know Captain McConaughey is broken up about having to leave his family on Earth and boo hoo on all that, but when the captain of a spaceship perched on the edge of black hole is only concerned about getting back to see his daughter it just makes the human race look a bit small time. He's showing us up in front of the whole Universe.
