Interstellar: Imperfectly, Achingly Beautiful

Twas' the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring....

...except for two brothers watching Interstellar for the first time. That was several years ago, but even now, I can't recall many other first-watch experiences that have been as ethereal as that one. But I'll be extremely up-front with you: I think that out of every movie that has received some level of undeserved praise from general audiences, Interstellar takes the cake. I hesitate to use the word overrated, but sometimes I'm limited by the English language. No, this movie is not a realistic contender with The Dark Knight in a pure cinematic meritocracy and never will be. And yet, rarely have I seen a movie capture such beauty. Interstellar is better experienced than it is thought about, and that's not entirely a bad thing, though Christopher Nolan never struck me as the sentimental type.

To accurately manage your expectations, Interstellar is entirely unlike any science fiction movie I've seen, surprisingly grounded in reality and willing to jump through the hoops of some semblance of scientific accuracy. It's proficient at capturing an effect I call perceived reality, effectively suspending disbelief with a matter-of-fact visual palette, endless use of impressive practical effects in a way only Christopher Nolan could use them, and even a handful of mockumentary sequences discussing the Blight, a fictional plague targeting crops that isn't too dissimilar to some of the famines of 19th-century Europe as well as the reason humans are trying to leave Earth in the universe of Interstellar. Christopher Nolan uses "only" 850 visual effects throughout the film, whereas an average science fiction movie uses anywhere from fifteen hundred to two thousand. I'm charmed by Nolan's insistence on practical effects, a technique that adds a lot to the grounded believability of Interstellar. Yet despite its insistence on being relatively down-to-earth, Interstellar has no shortage of imagination, using both the familiar and the far-fetched to craft a truly one-of-a-kind experience that likewise feels strangely feasible.

On the downside, I don't love everything about the movie. Some of its more sentimental tendencies become heavy-handed when unbridled, and while I understand Nolan's attempts to quantify the idea of love to a degree, his efforts never escape a level of adherence to some admittedly cringeworthy cliches. Interstellar can sometimes have more in common with a soap opera than anything else, not in a good way. With some of these cliches comes an occasional clunkiness that to me confirms Nolan's status as an intellectual director and not an emotional one, and Interstellar is at its best when it's able to ponder the night sky above rather than try to connect it to human feelings below.

Nevertheless, one of the best things about Interstellar is its atmosphere, an atmosphere bolstered by a legendary score from Hans Zimmer, a score renowned for a reason. I'm not the type of guy swayed by a soundtrack that doesn't sound like it's trying to capture the overall mood of the world, and so this is why I'm not too impressed by much of the horn-heavy but entirely moodless and mindless sound of much of modern Hollywood, Marvel being a regular offender in this category. But in the case of Interstellar, Zimmer's work here is ethereal while also nailing the unique atmosphere of the movie, an essential factor too often left out of musical scores. It's also an unusually magnificent score, evoking an undeniable wonder, an aching beauty that sounds like it could exist only in the world of Cooper and Murph.

While not entirely able to escape a handful of heavy-handed emotional tropes, Interstellar is truly a one-of-a-kind experience, the type of almost-ethereal film that I'll frankly remember forever. It's practically legendary only a decade and some change after its release for a reason, and rarely have I seen a movie hit such high emotional and intellectual marks at the same time. It's the type of movie that will make you believe in the magic of cinema, the magic you'll feel in your body, in your mind, and yes, even in your soul.

Interstellar - 8/10

Psalm 136:3-9