movie response

Nick Simon

Due Date: 2/23/17

Documenting Your World

The film I’ve decided to address in this short essay is Christopher Nolan’s Interstellar.  Nolan’s movie was not the first film that “moved” me (I honestly cannot remember the very first film that moved me).  The reason I’ve chosen to focus on this particular movie is because it recently afforded me a vaguely optimistic (and ostensibly "scientific") version of “alternate dimensions of life” at a time when I could benefit from these things. 

            My grandma was diagnosed with cancer toward the end of 2013.  Her prognosis was not favorable, and doctors surmised that she would probably live another year.  I was told this by my mom via phone, while I was at school up in Pennsylvania.  (I’m a transfer student.)  I remember talking to my mom outside and not knowing what to do with myself after I hung up.   

            The presence of death induces “profound” contemplation.

            I’m not religious.  I was born and raised Catholic, but I currently would not classify myself “Catholic.”  I think I’m best characterized as an agnostic: I don't claim faith or disbelief in God.  Or, another way to see it: I don’t really know what I think.  As a result, I have no clue whether or not I believe in an “afterlife” or something else after death.

            When she was alive, my grandma was a practicing Catholic.  She was very fond of the bible, church, and the belief of life after death.  I remember when my grandpa died my grandma found immeasurable solace in believing he was up in heaven, waiting for her.  Before his death, she attended church frequently; and after, she went constantly – religiously.

            My grandma was fond of telling me that I ought to go to church more.  Whenever I’d get a chance to see her (she lived in Iowa, and I saw her about 1-2 times a year), she’d offer to go with me.  I’d always politely decline these offers.  We’d watch sports instead.  (She loved collegiate football.  She was an ardent fan of defense and ungodly, violent physical contact.  Her favorite utterance during games was “Christ, get him!”  She’d always quickly apologize for these wonderfully profane invocations.)  

            Looking back, I know I should have taken my grandma up on her offers.

           

            Preface to discussion on Interstellar : My enjoyment for the film doesn’t stem from anything overly complex.  Really, I like it and find comfort in it because I’m ignorant.  I know as much about science as I do about religion, so I know Nothing.  But science, unlike religion, has been hammered into my head as something that’s “rational” and “provable” and “True.”  In my experience, religion has not been contextualized as such.  As a result, if I come across something deemed “scientific” or “scientifically-proven” or “science-y,” I’m more apt to believe it.  But like I said, I really know nothing about science or the equations and minute details used to support it.  My belief in the validity of science is based on my trust in the accuracy of scientists and their theories.  I have “faith” that what they say is true.  Or I kind of have faith.  Often, I wonder.  Scientists were often wrong in the past.  What are they getting wrong now?

            So, Interstellar:

            There’s a scene in Interstellar when Cooper (the protagonist played by Matthew McConaughey) finds himself in a black hole.  In this environment, Cooper’s perception of time, existence, reality, etc. become altered.  He realizes that he’s able to manipulate the physical space around him to communicate with his daughter, who’s back on earth, at various times throughout her life.  This communication takes place through inanimate objects (e.g. Cooper fiddles with the space near him and a book falls off a shelf in his daughter’s room.)  Cooper effectively becomes a ghost – not a Casper caricature, but something real – living in another dimension.     

            I’ve butchered the description of this scene (watch the movie if you want the full effect), but here’s the point:

First, Interstellar offered me an example of other types of life, time, and existence that seemed somewhat believable because they were ostensibly coated in science.  I’d pondered these concepts before, but seeing them in person, depicted through the physical medium of actors on a screen, somehow made these thoughts realer – more apt to be valid.  Based on Interstellar Logic, time was relative, death wasn’t necessarily final, and unexciting events – books falling off a shelves – suddenly became celestial. 

Second, Interstellar offered a “scientific” standard of what could come after death that sort of corresponded to religion – namely, that there potentially be a transcendent existence humans don’t regularly experience, but are capable of attaining. 

            My grandmother passed away a few months after I saw the movie.  Grief was as painful as one would expect.  But it was also mitigated with small, significant moments: a book would fall from a shelf, and I’d wonder.