Interstellar - A Roundtable Discussion

Rob -

I have been thinking about Interstellar a lot since I saw it last Saturday. I like what Sam Thielman said about the film, which is mainly that character development gives way to plot in every way. You could almost say that the only two constants in the universe of Interstellar are gravity and McConaughey’s character, Cooper.

Even the plot has some early gaps. Primarily, Nolan has to get these people into space as quickly as possible in order to start showing us some really incredible visual effects. Backstory with potential, be damned. Once there, we can safely enjoy the ride without fear of being disappointed by the price of our IMAX ticket. Nolan is a great director: he knows how to make a movie that audiences will love, even if we don’t understand everything that’s happening.

I didn’t get all the space and multi-dimension stuff in the theater. But I respect that Nolan didn’t water down the science, even if the science is what makes the film hard to follow. At some points, the music overwhelmed the dialog so that I couldn’t make out exact explanations of events or phenomena. Suppose that’s the movie telling us that the emotion is what matters more than the quantum physics. I like that.

But here’s the kicker for me: I wasn’t sure when I left the theater if Interstellar was a good movie. I’m not going to address it’s length besides saying that it was too much movie for one movie. I get all the science stuff (or I get that it is science stuff), and that’s cool. I get that in some ways this movie is an ode to a time when space seemed like a place we could go and conquer. I’m for that, I’m pro-NASA. I just can’t decide if things got too complicated outside the characters to make their interpersonal interactions really meaningful. That’s what makes a good story to me. The only time a real human feeling breaks through the wormhole is the sequence with Matt Damon’s character. That taps into something deeper—way deeper. That whole scene is just buzzing with that question: what must it be like to be all alone on a cold planet literally millons of miles away from Earth and know that you will never be rescued? Oh, and his character’s name is Dr. Mann. That’s deep, too.

I have to admit, despite my hesitation about Interstellar as a great movie, I have thought about it, talked to friends about it, even googled science facts trying to understand it better. If the quote at the top of this blog means anything at all, then maybe Interstellar is a good flick. I’m just not certain.

Don’t let this review keep you from seeing the movie. It’s fun…I just think that for all the fireworks, it’s missing that big bang.

Kyle -

I had so much fun watching this movie. Had Nolan attained sci fi perfection then I'm not sure I would have had fun. I might have called it a good movie -- because then it would have really taken me somewhere -- but I wouldn't have had as much fun. I mean, 2001 Space Ody is work to watch, right? I even enjoyed the rushed parts of this. Some were so rushed that it felt like I was watching a B movie. That's interesting isn't it? I need to think more about that (possible to mix A list and B list movie making practices?). 

I loved it. I thought the whole thing was a blast. I loved the cast and the score/music/soundtrack was really cool. Ultimately, I'm a sucker for blight, the future, deep space, decent tunes, and Matt Mc. I didn't need the emotion that wasn't there. I just needed the fun stuff. This might be the theme of Christopher Nolan -- I can't recall any moral/value introspection I've had during any of his movies. But I do say things like, "Whoa, Inception was so much fun and cool and expensive." In this way, Nolan movies are like your first European travel experience -- everything looks so cool and inviting, and then you realize that Europeans can be annoying just like Americans can -- we're all B-Listers, Nolan included. 

Last things I'll say, I don't tell everyone to go see it. I only tell certain friends to go see it. I know many people that will hate it. I also know some good souls that will join me and Nolan on our cinematic pleasure cruise. (Weirdest sentence I have ever written, that last one). I'm going to predict that Luke will only like certain parts of this. I think he will think that most of the movie is wasting his time -- and I won't disagree with him. But I'll have fun on that re-watch. 

Luke - 

Interstellar is a fantastic movie.  I mean, Interstellar was fantastic for me.  Are you like me?  I once attended a talk by a prominent scientist from California, after which there was an informal question and answer session for students to “learn how to think” or some shit like that.  One student asked the scientist, “What do you read?”  Now, let me paint this picture for you.  This scientist is a badass and he has figured out all sorts of innovative and insanely cool ways to answer his scientific questions.  He publishes all the time in top scientific journals and he is well-respected.  He also looks like a total punk—all black clothes, stringy long hair, shorts and black leather boots—which I appreciated.  So, “what do you read?”

He replied, “I read two things.  First, instrument manuals” [which are huge-ass, boring magazines of all the different scientific machines and equipment you can buy] “because they are our tools.  You can’t know how to approach a problem unless you understand what tools are available to you.  And secondly, I read science fiction—well, good science fiction—because it is creative and incredibly predictive of the future.”  Okay I’ll be honest that’s not a direct quote but it’s really close.

Anyway, I was obsessed with science fiction before hearing this advice and I am all the more obsessed now.  So that is what I am like.  Interstellar is good science fiction.  Christopher Nolan appointed a theoretical physicist from Caltech, Kip Thorne, to keep the science of Interstellar on point.  Check this guy out: http://www.its.caltech.edu/~kip/.  I invite you to navigate to “publications” on his page and scroll down.  Your computer will probably die of too long.  The point is that, while Interstellar is a movie that paces out the ledge of human knowledge and then just belly flops right on into the void, it is a well-instructed process up until the leap.  And then, who knows, am I right?  That is how science fiction should be.  

And let’s be honest: I cried four times.  This wasn’t a cold film saturated with science boredom; it had some major dramatic moments that tore at the ol’ heartstrings.  Murphy, the daughter, just basically raged through my emotional fragility, breaking lamps and Russian dolls and shit.  I could barely look at the screen during her scenes.  You know how sometimes you tear up and other times a tear actually rolls down your cheek, and then, when shit gets really real, there’s as much snot coming out of your nose as there are tears streaming out of your eyes?  That’s what this was like for me.  

I also enjoyed the depiction of our future not only in a post planet meltdown scenario—towards which we are rapidly heading due to climate change—but also the themes of distrust in science, which are unfortunately more widespread in our current society than I’d like to think about.  And, in comparison to Gravity—which depicted the female scientist as a total freakout who needed the calm and collected Clooney hero to save the day—Interstellar presented its two secondary protagonists as intelligent and competent female scientists.  I was a big fan of that.  Maybe one day there will be an intelligent and powerful, competent, and somewhat hubristic female who plays the primary protagonist in a major blockbuster.  Keep working, Hollywood.  If you make it, I’ll buy a ticket.  I promise.

I have two major qualms with the movie (spoiler alert).

       

1)   This is a bit obvious, but when we find out towards the end of the movie that the gravitational communications Murphy was receiving do not come from aliens but rather from her own father in the future, that nixes the pre-existing plotline framework that the wormhole next to Saturn was placed there by extraterrestrial beings to help us reach new worlds.  So, how the hell did the original wormhole get next to Saturn if neither aliens nor her father could have put it there?  It seems extraordinary that chance would place the wormhole in our system considering the incredible expanse of the universe.  

2)   Marine sciences, bitches.  On the first planet they visit where they discover the wreckage of one of the original astronaut’s ships in knee deep water, they immediately find themselves in danger of massive (~1000ft) rolling waves.  Ladies and gentlemen, this is impossible.  That is not how waves work.  The wavelength (the distance between the tops of two waves in succession) of these waves appeared to be on the order of miles.  According to the physical properties of waves, the water depth for this rolling, non-breaking wave would have to be greater than half of the wavelength.  In other words, if the distance between the two big rolling waves that they try to escape from was 1 mile, then the depth of water would have to be greater than 2,640ft, so this could definitely not be knee deep water.  Fuck you, Christopher Nolan, you should have hired a marine scientist!  Just kidding, I love your movies.

All in all, Interstellar was a fantastic movie.  And regarding the predictive nature of science fiction, consider this for a moment: human beings are specialized to survive under certain planetary conditions and those conditions are changing rapidly.  Not only is it feasible, it is likely that our species will have to make drastic changes to survive in our future environment.  Meanwhile, NASA launched an unmanned Delta IV rocket into space yesterday.  The success of this mission was crucial because NASA intends for this rocket to carry humans to an asteroid in the next 10 years and also to deliver humans to Mars by 2030.  

Also, do y’all think there are aliens?

Fury

I don't know what to think about Fury. It's David Ayer's leap into "the depravity" of war that has me talking to myself. 

I'd seen this movie before, every part of it. The lifelessness, the vulgarity, the churlish war-tattered soldiers, the bodies exploding and imploding and being devoured by artillery, the less Band of Brothers version of American men and more the version of American men acting like pissed off teenagers; all this I had seen. I've seen Brad Pitt play this role before. I've seen other actors do just as well with the hallmark roles played by these more than sufficient actors. There are three things that stuck out to me about this one, though: 

The meal. The filming in a tank. And Shia Labeouf. 

Maybe I'd seen em' before but I'm still thinking about em'--it's these three things. And that's something. 

Pitt, 'Wardaddy' heads up the crew of a Sherman tank in the spring of 1945. Hitler's all-out attack is underway. Every able bodied German has been called to defend the motherland. SS officers and destroyed European towns abound. Filmmakers need these things in a WWII film--an ultimate bad guy. These characters are forced to negotiate the moral terrain of humans at their worst. Tough circumstances. 

His crew includes Bible (Labeouf), the Mexican-American, the Southern brute, and the new guy that was trained to type. Props to Ayers for taking archetypal characters and keeping it interesting. Camaraderie is sought by so many directors and actors. It's rarely achieved because most times it's too clean, too polished. Ayers allows just enough grime to slip in. After all, groups of guys are mostly un-interesting in the real world. They are actually quite annoying and borish. They rarely say things that would be found in a movie script. They are normally neither clever nor well-spoken. Ayers allows for enough of the real-life depravity of a group of guys to sneak in; the insults are unpolished and a little more cutting and back-handed; just like my friends from home. 

These five men are on their way to the end of the line. They are going to be put in situations where it's like Sparta vs. the Persians and all that. Only heroism will endure. Maybe the new guy will make it out. All of that. Again, nothing new here. Again, props to Ayers for not running from this. He's kind of let Saving Private Ryan and hundreds of other war films do the work for him, one could even throw in some westerns and East Asian revenge thrillers as sources of influence. I'm thinking of Platoon meets Chan Woo Park meets I Saw the Devil with a little bit of Apocalypse Now. That's quite a spectrum but Ayers, in all his machoism says, "Yeah. I've seen those movies. I liked them. And yeah. I made Training Day. So what? I like archetypes and I'll use them. Anecdotal? Fuck it. Gets me where I want to go." 

And Ayers wants to go somewhere. He took me somewhere.  He took me out of wanting to rank his battle scenes on some blogger list of best battle scenes. He took me into a world most of us don't know about. Most of us that go to theaters don't know what was happening during the dinner scene. I have some questions and some thoughts about it. 

Pitt, after a battle scene that could be ranked high on a blogger list of best battle scenes, takes the newbie for round two of indoctrination--into an apartment enlivened by the unnerving anxiety of two German women. Earlier, round one of indoctrination involved the normal bullying, gang sociology type stuff. This scene, as they entered the apartment, was something else. I was really freaking uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if something brilliant was happening or not. 

Part of my hesitance was because of the un-needed hokey elements that kept peppering the early parts of the movie. There was no need for the newbie to play classical music on an out-of-tune piano while his newly warded German lady-friend sang over his shoulder. Just leave that stuff out. But then there were moments of real heft. When Pitt, taking reprieve from the party just outside the apartment, shaving and wanting to eat some eggs with hot tea, took over the screen and had that old school movie star presence. Then, I was like, "Whoa. Something is happening here." I forgot about the battle scenes. I was like, "This is weird, in a good way." 

Wesley Morris of the Boston Globe/Grantland describes it this way:

"A vanquished German town provides the setting for an extended interlude in which Don takes Norman into an apartment still occupied by a mother and daughter (beautifully acted by Anamaria Marinca and Alicia von Rittberg). As American soldiers drink and loot and party in the square outside the building, Don tries to steal for himself some civility: a shave, a meal, maybe the touch of a woman. Don forces Norman to head into a bedroom with the daughter, who somehow manages to shed her reluctance.

This sequence is almost the only reason to have Pitt in this movie. He barely seems to talk (Don does speak German), but the authority of his presence dominates the apartment. The other three characters take their orders from Don’s silence, his eyes. This is a passage that could have transformed the film — darkened it, opened it outward. But once the other men of the Fury intrude — drunk, belligerent, jealous that Don brought Norman upstairs for sex and not one of them — Ayer’s script doesn’t know where to go with this disrupted oasis, so he obliterates it. That sequence is confusing. The arriving men menace the frightened women and tell a sloshed, bitter story that’s meant to get at the war’s horror. But the moment doesn’t explicate the soul of the movie as does the digressive rubber plantation dinner sequence Francis Ford Coppola added to Apocalypse Now or provide comedy and then unbearable suspense as the beer hall sequence does inInglourious Basterds. Maybe Ayer thinks it does, but he’s straining for meaningfulness."

On the real, I can't decide if I agree with Morris or not. At the moment of viewing I entirely agreed with him. The hokey parts were still fresh in my mind. Now, a couple days removed, the hokey is less clear. The freshness of an 'interlude' of depravity in a war flick; that part of it all is still with me. And I'm wondering if Ayer's is getting close to something that Apocalypse Now and Platoon and some Jodorowsky nudged towards--humans can be really despicable and what's more, we are capable of empathizing with the most despicable. It was Labeouf that evoked the empathy. 

Supposedly he did some method-acting stuff and would really cut himself with a real knife and wouldn't shower and all that. Respect. I had been feeling down about all his arrests and stuff. His recent visits to Ellen and Jimmy Kimmel kind of bummed me out. The only outlet for a movie star are those really well-lit couches and Malibu rehab centers. That sucks. And then they show back up on a movie screen in my local theater. They act. They evoke. And they make something happen. Labeouf in this movie was just really good at that whole thing. His acting in this movie is worth the time and money. He has an ability that few others have, in my opinion. Maybe it's ruining his life. I don't know about that. I don't know him. But he did something special in this movie and special doesn't happen all that often. It certainly happens less than TMZ worthy posts do. I hope that's a good thing. 

Lastly, Ayers filmed most of a movie from the inside of a Sherman tank. That's probably hard to do. He did really well with it. The angles and action in a small space added to the presence of actors pursing that gnarly space where ideologies, historical events, and modern day interpretations all come together. Movies, ones that are shot well, are cool things capable of altering how our synapses and memories work together to alter our own ideologies. Accomplishing all of this inside of Sherman take is an accomplishment worth noting. 

I still don't know what to think about Fury. I'm not sure it's a great film or anything like that. But it's got me thinking and that's something. 

Chef

Jon Favreau likes good food, good conversation, good looking women and feeling good. Chef, then, is all things good. 

What do you do when you are a less-troubled, comedic filmmaker/actor/director and you have tons of money to make whatever movie you feel like making? 

You write, direct, produce and star in a movie that features Scarlett Johansson and Sofia Vagara as your like-able lovers. You have slightly dysfunctional but honest relationships with both of them. You hook-up with both of them and somehow maintain a working relationship with each. Ultimately, though, you make it clear that only the most abounding female counterpart will do--you make sure that your viewers are aware of your time spent with beautiful women. 

You also cook and eat delicious food in your movie. As 'the chef' you shuffle in plenty of foodie montages that are pleasant to look at and admire. You keep your chopping skills sharp and Bobby Flay motions well-rehearsed so as not to appear staged. It might be hard for the viewer to believe that you are 'the chef', especially one that has seen your previous films, but you rest against good-enough acting to keep the montages from being obtrusive yet still noticeable like, "Oh, I see what he's doing here." 

You comment on your own 'celebrity' and all that goes into it. You thoughtfully, but not too thoughtfully, so as to not alienate the weekend movie-going crowd, usher in some deeper questions about 'celebrity' and 'social media'. You do your best to make real the feeling, the humanity, the saliency, and reach of social media. One of this bent, of the ultra-successful (one that once hosted a round table series that featured those guys like you, that made their own way in Hollywood with hard work and a tough-it-out mantra, smoking cigars and talking of the good-ol-days) must be laughing at the end. So you confront the cowardice behind a tweeted quip and chisel away at the hurt with constructive, feel-good laughter. You look out on the world and in the spirit of Louis C.K. say, "Hey, yeah we can suck sometimes. All of us. But we can also make good stuff. And it can even be funny." 

You hang out with your friends and capture the fun of an adventure with them. You know that hitting the road and seeking out plot twists works. You've seen it work really well when you do it with friends that are endearing, loyal, funny and have some presence. So when you're making 'your' movie, you put a road-trip at the heart of your movie. You center with something that has been lost and must be found and it can only be found by leaving. As it should be, you realize it has been right in front of you all along. You take the sentimental route and don't make any apologies. 

You fold in an ending that tastes and feels good. When you can do whatever you want with a movie and you desire success (however you want to measure it) you don't aim for too much. You keep everything within reach. You know your limits. The only way you could really screw up this whole endeavor is by trying to comment too much on, by weighing in too much on, by critiquing too much, by trying to effect too much, by doing too much. You know this because you've seen many of your brethren fall hard out on the fringes. Cannes does its thing. You do your thing. You keep the ending where it should be and allow the viewer (the ticket buyer) to walk out saying to their movie-going company, "What are you doing tomorrow?" With this sort of ending you keep the viewer from saying, "What the hell was that?" or "I liked it until it got all preachy." or "What am I?" You keep things in line when your life is good. 

You essentially make a movie that is tough to dislike, will make money, and will solidify your place in between 'Swingers' and 'Iron Man'; in between low budget and 'Titanic' budget; in between cult hit and Hollywood blockbuster; in between 'classic' and 'popular'; in between 'artist' and 'business'.  You make a movie that's an entertaining break from reality because that's what you do best. You don't chase Ingmar Bergman or Terence Malik or Nicolas Roeg. You just do your best and make something good. 

Saving Mr. Banks - Rob

We all know, by this point, that Hanks is one of the greats. He plays well opposite men (Saving Private Ryan), he plays well opposite women (Meg Ryan, et al), and he plays well opposite himself. This year he showed significant range when, in separate instances, he was kidnapped by pirates and later when Ms. P.L. Travers refused to sell him the rights to her beloved Mary Poppins.

I saw Saving Mr. Banks with three generations of my family over Christmas. It's that kind of movie. Previous movies watched in the same setting with the same three generations include We Bought a Zoo and Stewart Little (we, too, have our range). A few people cried, I am told. I was moved more than once by Emma Thompson's navigation of an emotionless character. Hanks was, of course, Hanks. For that matter, Colin Farrell also delivered a solid, nuanced performance, as did the duo of Jason Schwartzman and BJ Novak. In fact, the cast, rounded out by Bradley Whitford, who I also generally dig, and the adorable little girl who played the young PJ Travers, all delivered terrific performances. (I almost forgot to mention Paul Giamatti, who is always sublime as doesn't disappointed here!) Accents were probably right on. I feel that Hanks's version of Walt Disney was fascinating and probably also right on. All the pieces were there in spades. And I'm sure this film will get some nods for best actor/actress as any good bio-pic usually does.

But, despite all that, the magic wasn't there. The film was just ok. Not one that I'll watch again, not one that I would necessarily recommend in a month with so many good movies playing. The film has a happy ending because it must, because it's a family movie that you see at Christmastime, and no one wants to see that Travers actually hated the film version of her book. I wish the movie had been more imaginative. Maybe what I really would like to see is a documentary about how Mary Poppins came together--its script, songs, illustrations, and effects.  Instead, the movie is probably a realistic view of Travers's story--girl with adoring alcoholic father grows up too fast and loses the imaginative power he instilled in her. It just seems a bit tired…I mean, what makes Mary Poppins great is what makes all movies great. This one, for all its strengths, just didn't get there.

Christmas Movies Not About Christmas

Wolf of Wall Street
I'm gonna go ahead and assume that Jordan Belfort is as annoying as he's made out to be in this motion picture. I think Scorsese is doing some kind of meta-thing as this is a cogent movie based on a delusional memoir. In this way it's kind of a Hunter S. Thompson sort of movie. Belfort's grandiose version of being despicable most likely massages the same ego that made being despicable profitable for a short amount of time. I'm sure Scorsese's picking up on that. By writing a book and making a movie Belfort is permitted a wry smile for a little bit longer. Though, the consummate Bro, here, is lauded only by himself and chided by those telling the story. This movie is not about Wall Street, the financial crisis, Corporate America or anything else like that. This movie is about how some goof-ball tells his own goof-ball story. Scorsese and Leo after their meetings with Belfort probably had plenty of opportunities to mockingly say, "Get a load of this guy." In other words, I think Scorsese is just making fun of the guy which makes this a movie about a story teller and story telling, in general. I liked it alright.

The Desolation of Smaug

So many of my friends are righteously pissed due to fabricated characters and the sheer lack of integrity Peter Jackson lops about in this wishy-washy back-up to a pretty stellar first installment. I kind of agree with them on that but you know what, I still had a good time watching Dwarves and Elves and all that. I mean if I wanted Peter Jackson to perfectly re-create Tolkein for me then I'd need like a new brain or something, preferably one that belonged to me when I was 11; and that's just not possible. I like the white Ork. I even liked the love story for some weird reason. Cumberbatch in all his recent glory can even play a flying serpent that speaks English. There's plenty here to piss off the Tolkeinites but there's also plenty here to be entertained by. I'll probably see this movie 30-40 more times in my life. I won't even have to try, it will just sort of happen. And based on this first viewing, I'm OK with that being the case.

Catching Fire

These sure are fun. They've got the whole thing really well balanced, I think. There's just enough to keep it Young Adult and just enough to keep an Adult watching. This one is a little more entertaining than the first and a little less gut wrenching. Unlike The Desolation of Smaug, Catching Fire hugs the book closer and delivers a product that Hunger Games readers can be all like, "Whoa. Yes." about. I've found that high school students are less thrilled with these movies than my friends are. They're certainly wrapped up in the love stories but they're also really bland about the altered relationship-gender roles. I recently polled over a hundred high school students on gay marriage. Unanimously (UNANIMOUSLY), the students voted that gay marriage should be considered a Human Rights issue and that it should be legal to marry whomever you like. Maybe Hunger Games type stuff is doing work that Adults can't fully appreciate, especially for how un-alarmed it's making all those Young Adults.

American Hustle

I've listened to two movie critic roundtables wherein this movie was the centerpiece. The second I only listened to because I had to double-check what I was hearing in the first (I promise, I'm usually only good for one movie critic roundtable a week). Every single critic gawks, drools over, and bombastically lavishes this movie with well-worded sentences accolades. I mean everyone loves this. It is pretty fun to watch. David O. Russell gives it just about as much crazy as you can handle but also has you wanting just a bit more, all at once. Christian Bale is hilarious. Jennifer Lawrence keeps on being big-time. Bradley Cooper is good at being manic, we've established that much. But I'm still waiting for someone to hate on this movie. One that attempts as much could point towards the scenes that barely hold together, the sometimes obvious improvisation that makes it less neat, and maybe say something about how Renner might not be as good as we once thought. Regardless, this will win awards and all that.

Nebraska

One of my friends said it better than me so I can't take credit for the remark but, "Nebraska (film) is a one joke movie." For real, there's one joke here and it lasts for about an hour and a half. That's a long joke, especially one that's not all that happy, really. I walked home from the movie theater. Dreary, black and white, pulled-back camera shots into a really depressing version of middle-America can make walking home feel like the only option. I'm usually all about road-trip movies. But Alexander Payne (in his second road trip movie) made driving through the heartland kind of heartbreaking. I'm sure that this is a great movie. It even had a couple of laugh out loud moments. The music and black and white both worked, I thought. The acting was really incredible in parts. Ultimately, though, I kept getting kind of bored. The joke was wearing off and by the end had stopped being funny. Thankfully, Payne is a sucker for happy endings, or at least as happy as he can think to make them. I recommend it.