Good Things Come to Those Who Take

I don't much like going to the theater, which is unfortunate because I really enjoy the theater watching experience. My main problem is almost certainly the other people. Since I can't force them not to come, I'll just continue on things I do like.

I recently went to the theater to watch the 10th anniversiary screening of Interstellar. I have watched the movie approximately 3 times. Once in the original run, IMAX. Once, on a TV a year or two later. Then once again in IMAX this year.

I like movies a lot, I value them, but out of typical artistic mediums they're what I interact with the least. They rarely grab my attention the way they need to for me to set the time aside to watch them, let alone go outside for them. Nolan made something else with this one though.

Interstellar is the sort of movie that convinces me that we can still do great things in cinema. It is in my mind a masterpiece, no qualifiers needed. It takes advantage of being on that screen in an incredible way. It uses the medium to its advantage, to play up things normally not possible. Note: Past this point there will be some spoilers, but also you've had two theater runs and 10 years to watch it, so that's on you.

I struggle with how to talk about this movie. It is expansive with many little details that all form such a tight narrative and theme. It is, foremost, a film about the indomitability of the human spirit, and the ability of indivudals to go beyond their own limits when push comes to shove. It is also about the need for a future, for a goal to work towards. Not just survival, but flourishing. And at its most base, a film about the horror and wonder in the cosmos surrounding us. These form the central threads of the movie. Our pillars that grow and shrink throughout the film, each getting their moment in the spotlight, a moment of absolute cohesion.

The main thing offered here, given the format it is shown in, is size. There is a particular scene that plays in my mind, every time I think about the movie. It is captured in this screenshot.

Saturn fills the frame entirely. Just before this, it floated in the inkiness of space. Now, it is everything. All that can be, in this moment, is dwarfed by it. And smaller yet, are our heroes. Barely a dot on Saturn as they sail past. An insignificant speck over an ultimately insignificant planet in an infinite, uncaring void. You are forced to reckon with the magnitude of the problem at hand. They are to travel for more years for what could charitably be called an impossibility, even given their recon.

It is awe-inspiring, and yet, hopeful. As Professor Brand says in the film, "It only has to work once." They are that once. They are the future, by any means necessary. They are the beacon of hope, the light upon the hill, the guiding light in the sky. In this moment, they are humanity. The beginning, and the end. A rage into and against the good night. This imagery returns at the end of the film.

Cooper slowly drifts, unconscious. He dwarfs Saturn now. The focus shifts as he spins, pulling two distant lights into sharp relief. He has just exited a black hole and is the first to do so, as far as we know. He is not struggling for survival, as they were throughout their journey. In this moment, he is simply one with the cosmos. It is not a threat, not a terror, it just is. And so is he. There is neither success nor failure, just existence.

Of course, the lights in the distance are cruisers made possible only through his sacrifice and Murph's unwavering confidence that they (both the science team and the exploration team) could do the impossible. They are triumphant in the end, able to take humanity into the cosmos. I find this symmetry very compelling though. To use Saturn as this focal point, a shorthand for the enormity, of their last glimpse of known space before the unknown. It draws the journey neatly closed. The ending after this is nice, a pleasant clarification of their successes and the further potential in the future, but the real ending, it is here. This is where the story began, and ended.

This is one of a great many things I appreciate in the making of this movie. It is one of the highlights that takes this from great to masterpiece. It's the kind of film that reminds me why going to the movies is worth it.

P.S. If my gut is right I'm going to be just as insufferable about Mickey-17 when it comes out. Catch it in the theaters on March 7, 2025.