Kurt Halfyard - Contributing Writer
The more these women keep getting older, the more Matthew McConaughey stays the same age. Outside of the Batman movies, the bulk of Christopher Nolan's Hollywood career as been focused on the perception of time and self.
Memento is about what time (and truth) might feel like if you were unable to hold on to new memories. The Prestige features two magicians that are split into duplicates, each missing pieces of their own lives, but also how at that moment in time, new technology and old superstition (and showmanship) collided in fascinating ways. Inception explored the temporal dilation of subconscious dream states on the verge of becoming waking ideas.
Interstellar, although it shows a filmmaker whose reach exceeds his grasp more times than not, is about as far as he is going to ever get with the subject at the budgets (and run-time) he now seems to require. As message-y as it seems at times, I was on board with the journey, the nuts and bolts spectacle, and the yes, the parenting drama - both individually in the case of Cooper's aging family, and of the whole darn species, relatively speaking.
Beyond the gravity, space and time, Interstellar feels like a clever pastiche of other cosmic adventures (it makes me pine for a Quentin Tarantino science fiction film, actually.) Drawing obvious - and let's be honest, rather facile - comparisons to Kubrick and Tarkovsky, Nolan is more of a technician than a dreamer and far more populist in how he spins a tale. Better comparison would be Robert Zemeckis’ Contact, or Danny Boyle's Sunshine. The former, insofar as a goodly bit of father-daughter love is capable of transcending death and distance; the latter in that as messy and emotional as us humans can be when making a decision, somehow we’re capable of almost Godlike problem solving abilities given enough necessity.
Murphy's Law is invoked in Interstellar, but really, when Coop has a plan, it works EVERY time, because of necessity. Alright, alright, alright, the man is invincible here, even to being pushed out the door by his daughter on another adventure with not a moment to lose. He's a bootstrap hero who likes to doing everything manually, without a manual.
I'm rambling here, but I'll end on this. One of my favourite quotations from recent science fiction cinema comes from Steven Soderbergh’s shockingly underrated 2002 remake of Solaris. When discussing how mentally equipped mankind is for stellar discovery, the mission-leader pontificates, “We don’t want other worlds, we want mirrors.” That is to say, we go out into space to learn more about ourselves, and 'seeking out new life and civilizations,' is just a happy consequence along the way. The aliens are us, and Nolan gets that, even if he spells it out a little too much for his audience.