Interstellar (2014)
Directed by Christopher Nolan
Written by Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan
Starring Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, Michael Caine, Matt Damon, Bill Irwin, Ellen Burstyn
Release Date November 5th 2014
Aside from episodes of The Big Bang Theory and a viewing of the Errol Morris-Stephen Hawking documentary A Brief History of Time, I have no real concept of physics. That’s not to say I am not curious about how science can assess the origins of the universe, or how time began, but rather to set up a context for what may be the most ignorant or silly piece of writing I have ever attempted.
You see, I am going to attempt to use my less- than-rudimentary knowledge of physics to explain my affinity for Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar, a movie that I have wrestled with for a decade now. It's a remarkable movie, a towering epic in some ways and an intimate drama about fathers and daughters from a different angle. Much like Nolan's conception of physics, Interstellar is more than what it appears.
Spoilers ahead: It's been 10 years. See the damn movie!
Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) is the living embodiment of the concept known as the Singularity. He is a point at which a function takes on an infinite value. Once Cooper enters the black hole he comes to embody the singularity which in this case is a fifth-dimensional space where he can communicate with the past via gravity, thus telling his past self where to find the new NASA that has gone into hiding in the wake of the global blight, a condition that is precipitating a seeming apocalypse in the film’s narrative.
Cooper must discover NASA so that he can travel into space, go through a wormhole and then enter the black hole, where he then sends messages to himself to find NASA. This concept only sounds circular. In fact, when I thought of it, I became depressed. It gave me the impression of a never-ending hamster wheel that essentially amounted to the life of all mankind.
Then I was thunderstruck by a notion: Time is not linear. Cooper is not repeating the same action over and over on an infinite loop. Rather, everything that Cooper is experiencing is happening all at once. Linear time — seconds, hours, minutes, days — are the creation of man. We created the calendar to give ourselves a sense of control; a way of harnessing time. The reality is, however, that time is infinite and every experience you’ve ever had is ongoing from the moment of birth to the moment you read this article. It’s all happening right now.
That sounds kind of hazy, doesn’t it? I feel like I’ve had a contact high sometime recently just trying to grasp this thought. Nevertheless, it’s the only thought that has made sense to me since I saw Interstellar, a decade ago. The movie would be entirely devoid of hope, optimism, and joy if I were not able to convince myself that Cooper wasn’t a hamster; that we are, in fact, not hamsters, simply following the wheel until we die.
The moments of grace and love in Interstellar would be meaningless if they simply existed to inform the next moment and the next, infinitely. The only hopeful understanding of the film is to see time laid out sideways with Cooper drinking a beer with his father-in-law (John Lithgow) happening at exactly the same time that he is nearly dying on a frozen planet after a fight with Matt Damon. Time is not an infinite, linear, explicable loop but rather an oozing morass flowing in all directions, with all of life’s incidents happening all at the same time while we choose how to experience it all.
Yeah, that’s what I learned from Interstellar after a decade of rolling it around in my mind. And you know what, It’s kind of hard not to love a movie when you come away with a personal revelation like that one. Each time I revisit Interstellar I find a new joy in the experience, a new complex thought about time travel, our memories, and the concept of infinity and time. Interstellar invites you to have these thoughts and never dictates to you what is right or wrong in your thought process. And I love that.
