I'm feeling 100% confident, just a few hours after seeing it in saying this is the BEST sci-fi movie I've ever seen. Period.
That's right "2001: A Space Odyssey" you have been usurped.
This review I found is exactly what I would have said had I been asked:
It's oddly strange, and yet somehow comforting, how tales of space travel capture our imaginations. I suppose it's that sense of curiosity, that need to explore and to feel. Humanity has never been one for standing still, so it makes a certain level of sense. Think Manifest Destiny, if you will.
That being said, films about space always seems to dredge up something deeper than simply exploring the unknown. Think back to the epic that was "2001: A Space Odyssey" or even the original "Star Wars" trilogy. These films manage to reflect the mood down here on our little blue ball in the sky in a way action flicks or thrillers just can't.
"Interstellar," though, goes deeper than that. Directed by Christopher Nolan, it's not enough for this tale of space travel to sate our need to explore. This time, it's a personal tale wrapped in the premise that if we don't find a new home somewhere out there in that vast, dark expanse, soon there won't be anyone left to do it. This tale is one of regret, a marvelous adventure mired in the deep pain of sorrow, dread and a desperate, yearning need for forgiveness.
They say no one can hear you scream in space. I guess the same could be said for crying.
But fighting back against that near-impossible weigh is the glimmer of hope, that humanity may find a way to save itself from the ruin inflicted on Earth. Some sort of message is making its way to the planet, sent through a wormhole near Saturn by an alien race we believe is trying to help us save ourselves. That data, having made its way across galaxies and time itself, forms the plot structure for most of "Interstellar," where scientists on Earth are rapidly try to solve the coded message's riddle in a bid to prevent the extinction of the human race.
You see, Earth isn't doing so well. A global environmental epidemic has ravaged the planet, which we first see as we're introduced to a scene that would remind you of pictures from the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl. It's a rural stretch of America, farmland as far as the eye can see. At this point, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until a laptop shows up and reminds us that all isn't what it seems.
This family holds central characters in "Interstellar," particularly Cooper (Matthew McConaughey), a single father who lives with his two kids and father-in-law (John Lithgow). A man "born 40 years too late, or 40 years too early," Cooper was once a NASA pilot who now grows corn. Which, by the way, is the only crop that will grow after a blight has destroyed nearly everything else. (Even okra!) Humanity has shrunk to a mere pittance of what it once was, but that doesn't stop those who are living from going about their days with some sense of normalcy. (Good to know beer will be available even when the world is dying.) Still, a sense of conclusion, that the end is near, doesn't hide far beneath the surface.
In fact, humanity for the most part has just about given up. Gone are the days of us going big, of ambitious dreams. Now, we've returned to our agrarian roots, at odds once again with science and technology and simply trying to survive each day. All the while, though, everyone knows not many days are left.
But director Nolan (and writer/brother Jonathan) doesn't do small. He's all about the ambition, and he goes for the throat when it comes to going big. His vision in "Interstellar" is grand and risky, fighting every second to "rage against the dying of the light."
That famous Dylan Thomas villanelle fits Cooper well, who we can easily see doesn't belong tethered to this planet. This disconnect opens the film's first act, a haunting, emotional tone that establishes a premise for why he does what he does, and why those whom he loves do what they do. The stakes are made clear, especially when it comes to Cooper's children. A loving and protective father, he shares a love of learning with his daughter, Murph (played by Mackenzie Foy as a child and Jessica Chastain as an adult). When he leaves as part of a NASA mission to find suitable worlds for which humanity can relocate, it creates a schism between father and daughter, one that leads Murph to pursue a career working for NASA. Some might consider it tribute, others an act of defiance. Take your pick.
But that's not the only father-daughter plot we have going on. Enter Dr. Brand (Anne Hathaway), a scientist traveling with Cooper whose father, Dr. Brand (Michael Caine), is the one responsible for developing the theories used to send them through time and space to find a new home.
But thanks to relativity and the massive effects of gravity, those traveling through space are aging far slower than those at home. The effects are acutely felt during video transmission being the pairs, especially after the time differences start becoming noticeable.
What happens in the deep reaches of space will remain a mystery in this review, as saying just about anything more will ruin the suspense and surprise the Nolans embed in their story. (Even the casting was a surprise.) The two other astronauts on the Endurance are played by Wes Bentley and David Gyasi. Oh, and there's an awesomely witty robot voiced by Bill Irwin.
And music. Oh, the music. The score, by the talented Hans Zimmer, is brazenly and over the top, but somehow, even as close to pretentious as it gets, manages to succeed in capturing your attention. Even when it's unnecessarily screaming at you.
In the end, "Interstellar" is more than just a tale of space exploration or of trying to save humanity. It's more personal than that, finding its home on a raw emotional level. It uses the magic of cinema to sweep us into this epic of regret and grief, of time moving inexorably forward despite the best intentions of our adventurers. But, even against all the noise, despite all the mistakes and ego and good intentions gone awry, "Interstellar" reminds us that hope -- nay, optimism -- has this funny way of springing eternal. If nothing else, let's hope we never lose that.