3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, perilous action and brief profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.7.14
Nobody could accuse Christopher
Nolan of possessing modest ambitions.
His newest big-screen
extravaganza is a grim sci-fi drama that could be viewed as a reverential blend
of 1951’s When Worlds Collide and 1968’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, with
additional nods to 1972’s Silent Running and Robert Heinlein’s 1956 novel, Time for the Stars.
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| When a solar-powered drone cuts across the sky above their corn field — a striking reminder of science long absent from a decaying United States — Cooper (Matthew McConaughey, left) attempts to hijack it while being watched by children Murphy (Mackenzie Foy) and Tom (Timothée Chalamet). |
Along with — and this is a
problem — the bleak despair and distasteful human behavior found in the 2009
adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic novel, The Road.
I had the same problem with
2012’s The Dark Knight Rises, Nolan’s final entry in his otherwise impressive
Batman trilogy. He and co-scripter (and real-world brother) Jonathan have a harsh
view of people facing large-scale calamity, a trait shared with novelist
Stephen King, at his gloomier moments. All three tend to assume the worst from
mob mentality, with little of the nobler instincts that might make our race
worth saving.
Then again, perhaps I’m unduly
optimistic, choosing to believe better of my fellow citizens.
Such philosophical musings aside,
Christopher Nolan has, over time, focused more on high-concept narratives and
visual pizzazz, and less on character development. That’s a bigger problem. His
dream-within-a-dream-laden Inception may have been a jaw-dropping head trip,
but its characters were flat, sterile and uninvolving: two-dimensional
archetypes about whom we didn’t give a damn.
Nolan has become more puppet
master than actor-oriented director, manipulating his characters solely to
maximize unexpected plot developments, as opposed to allowing them behavior
that seems recognizably credible. In a way, then, Nolan is akin to his dueling
magicians in The Prestige — Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale — forever
tricking each other for the sheer sake of one-upmanship.
That’s not as immediately
noticeable with this new film, mostly because Matthew McConaughey delivers
enough agonized angst to carry the first two acts. He has matured into a richly
expressive actor, and several of his scenes here are heartbreaking: none more
so than the manner in which his character’s face yields to uncontrolled sobs,
while catching up with some long-distance correspondence.
But that comes much later.
Nolan & Nolan open their
drama at an undetermined point in our near future, when an ecological crisis
has transformed the entire country — indeed, the entire world — into an
agricultural dustbowl. Entire strains of grain have withered away, never to
return; only corn is keeping a diminished population alive. We’re also
presented with some truly ludicrous institutional rebellions against science,
such as school children being taught that our Moon landing, and the entire
Apollo program, were faked with movie sets.
That tired canard, again? In a
post-Internet age, where it would take seconds to dispute such nonsense?
Seriously?
Observant viewers also might
wonder what has happened to all of Earth’s animals, since this film offers no
evidence of dogs, cats, horses, birds, lizards or even insects. This also seems
an unlikely detail, or — at the very least — one requiring some explanation.
But OK; we’ll let those go.
McConaughey stars as Cooper, a
former engineer and test pilot resigned to an agrarian existence as a farmer,
charged with helping keep humanity alive. The acres of corn surrounding their
modest home are testament to generations of such homesteading: a lifetime of
honest labor regarded fondly by Cooper’s father-in-law, Donald (John Lithgow).
Cooper’s son Tom (Timothée
Chalamet) shares Donald’s instinctive love of the land, while daughter Murphy
(Mackenzie Foy) takes after her father’s investigative, exploratory spirit.
And, of late, her bedroom has been “haunted” by something that knocks books off
shelves, and disturbs the ubiquitous mounds of dust that families long ago gave
up trying to sweep away.
Much of this film’s narrative
power comes from the story’s unexpected jolts, and I’m loathe to spoil them.
Suffice it to say, after this dour introduction, that Cooper unexpectedly finds
his way to a clandestine NASA facility run by Professor Brand (Michael Caine),
with an able assist from his own scientist daughter, Amelia (Anne Hathaway).
They’re overseeing the construction of a truly massive “space ark,” because the
long-term prognosis for mankind’s continued existence on Earth is dim.
It’s time to leave the nest, and
a potential escape hatch has been detected: a wormhole just outside Saturn’s orbit,
which leads directly to a galaxy that otherwise would take multiple lifetimes
to reach. Probes and hastily mounted one-man missions focused on a dozen
potentially inhabitable planets in this distant galaxy; three have been deemed
likely candidates. Now an ace astronaut/pilot is needed to command a more
ambitious trip to make the final selection, and hey: Cooper is the perfect
candidate.
But there are numerous catches to
this opportunity, not the least of which is the time issue related to travel in
and around a wormhole. Mere hours for those within its range — which is to say,
Cooper and his small crew — will translate into years, even decades, for the
family members waiting back on Earth.
For young Murphy, then, it’s as
if her father is about to abandon her forever.
This father/daughter dynamic is
the heart and soul of Nolan’s film, and young Foy bonds well with McConaughey.
She’s spunky, resourceful and insatiably curious, as well as being both
charming and mischievously precocious. When Cooper clutches her tightly and
promises to return — McConaughey displaying every ounce of parental devotion —
we want to believe him, as she does.
It’s harder to get a bead on
Hathaway’s performance. Amelia is obviously intelligent, but at the same time
given to outsized influence by emotion over intellect. (Nolan & Nolan give
her a particularly dumb soliloquy on the potentially existential nature of love.)
More than once, I wondered how she possibly could have qualified for this
mission, given her erratic nature; I guess it pays to have fathers in high
places.
It’s not that Hathaway isn’t
sympathetic; we certainly root for her. Even so, Amelia just isn’t very
interesting.
David Gyasi is far more
successful as Romilly, the team’s astrophysicist: a sensitive soul who serves
as the mission’s voice of calm and reason. We definitely feel for him. Wes
Bentley plays co-pilot Doyle, a lab jockey who is greatly relieved to focus on
his scientific work, once Cooper agrees to pilot their ship.
The two remaining crew members
are unusual surplus military robots dubbed CASE and TARS: both fascinating
echoes of the drones from “Silent Running.” But unlike that film’s Huey, Dewey
and Louie, CASE and TARS are sentient and programmed with a morale-boosting
sense of humor and esprit de corps.
Lithgow and Caine resonate
strongly in their respective “wise elder” roles. Lithgow reflects quiet
resignation: a sense of trying to come to terms with the Earth’s new
environment, no matter how hostile. Caine, a stalwart in Nolan’s films, is the
vision of our trust in science to save the day, if only at the last possible
moment.
As the adult Murphy, Jessica
Chastain is a pragmatist whose efforts become increasingly crucial as this
story builds to its highly intense climax. Casey Affleck, as the adult version
of Murphy’s brother Tom, is given an impossible emotional sweep that nobody
could carry with any conviction: yet another example of Nolan’s frankly bizarre
take on human behavior.
Cinematographer Hoyte Van
Hoytema’s space footage is impressive, absolutely on par with the realistic
drama so recently depicted in last year’s Gravity. Production designer Nathan
Crowley and visual effects supervisor Paul Franklin have a field day; we’ve not
seen this much world-building since 2009’s Avatar.
And, needless to say, everything
looks truly spectacular on a massive IMAX screen ... although the music (Hans
Zimmer) and sound effects bellowing from the equally massive IMAX speakers have
a tendency to drown out important dialogue.
Once we build to the climax,
Nolan and editor Lee Smith employ cross-cutting between simultaneous (?) events
to amplify tension, much the way they did with “Inception.” That works quite
well ... to a point.
Eventually, we hit the film’s “money
sequence”: a mind-bender clearly designed to out-weird both the “star gate” finale
from 2001: A Space Odyssey, and Nolan’s own deeply layered levels of reality
in Inception. This film’s descent into its maelstrom of celestial
manipulation is guaranteed to divide viewers: Sci-fi über-geeks and Nolan’s
acolytes will deem it way-cool to the max, while more skeptical souls may
conclude that the narrative backs itself into an impossible corner ... and then
cheats to escape it.
That said, this story’s many
bumps, hiccups and plot twists certainly hold our attention. Even at a rather
self-indulgent 169 minutes, Nolan’s newest film never flags, and isn’t boring. We
are, however, left with a lot of questions once everything wraps up, and the epilog
is a hearts-and-flowers cop-out just as preposterous as Tom Cruise’s survival
at the end of this past summer’s Edge of Tomorrow.
Ultimately, Interstellar isn’t
as portentous or cosmically Significant as the filmmaker clearly desires; Nolan
has a tendency to think far too highly of his anxiety-laden fairy tales. Yes, they’re
gripping, well mounted yarns ... but hardly Homeric archetypes.
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