100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #24: Interstellar (2014)
Directed by Christopher Nolan. Written by Jonathan & Christopher Nolan.
“Love is the one thing we're capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space. Maybe we should trust that, even if we can't understand it.” - Anne Hathaway as Dr. Amelia Brand
This line represents not only the crux of director Christopher Nolan’s space epic, but also was what made this one of his most polarizing films. Upon its release, Interstellar’s Rotten Tomatoes score1 was around 67-68% before settling at 73%, well below his previous films (even The Dark Knight Rises sits at an 87%). Many critics, while able to appreciate the visual spectacle, could not get past the film’s central idea that love is a powerful and quantifiable force in our universe that is comparable to the force of gravity or electromagnetism.
Before diving into the potent theology that could surround such an idea: some context. Interstellar takes place in the not too distant future of 2067 as humanity faces extinction following a worldwide famine caused by destruction of nature by said humanity. All major scientific pursuits, including space exploration are on hold indefinitely as mankind seeks to find ways to sustain itself as staple crops begin to go extinct. Ex-NASA pilot Joseph “Coop” Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) has now become a farmer to support his two children and aging father-in-law; his wife died many years before. After discovering a gravitational anomaly occurring in the bedroom of his daughter, Murph (played in these early scenes by Mackenzie Foy) the trail of clues leads him to find NASA still secretly running at a nearby facility, under the leadership of Dr. John Brand (Michael Caine). Brand recruits Cooper to be the pilot for their secret mission: to scout out a planet to become the next new home for humanity. He teams up with three other astronauts, including Brand’s daughter, Amelia (Anne Hathaway) on the mission, and after a disastrous trip down to the first planet on their list the remaining crew has to make a crucial decision as to which of two nearby planets they should attempt to go to on their increasingly limited resources.
Their choice is between “Mann’s planet” and “Edmunds’ planet” named as such for the astronauts who had gone on prior missions to discover them. The younger Brand is for Edmunds’ while Coop is strongly in favor of Miller’s: both are promising but Coop is worried that Brand’s feelings are clouding her judgment because he knows that she’s in love with Dr. Edmunds, the astronaut who journeyed there in the first place. Put on the spot, Brand makes an impassioned speech claiming that her love for Edmunds has value and that maybe they’ve been looking at their search all wrong: maybe her connection to Edmunds- someone she hasn’t seen or heard from in years- is proof of some “higher power” that “we can’t consciously perceive.” Sounds familiar, right?
Now, this isn’t to say that Christopher Nolan is a closet-Catholic who is secretly inserting high-level theology into his films (although one can dream) but I do think he is a man who is very interested in ideas and in seeking out the truth in this lifetime. I think in his studies of the vast universe (in association with physicist Kip Thorne) he came to the conclusion that there are forces in (and outside) our universe that we’ll never be able to fully comprehend, and that’s reflected in the beauty of the visuals of this film and in Hans Zimmer’s absolutely gorgeous, memorable score. Much of this film has a Spielbergian sense of wonder2 that is fully embodied in both the practical filmmaking by Nolan (there is little to no greenscreen used) and the focus on actors’ reactions. One of my favorite scenes is a quiet moment when astronaut Romilly (David Gyasi) is having anxiety about only being millimeters away from the void of space in their ship. Coop comforts him by giving him a earbud to what he listens to in order to relax in space: sounds from Earth. Nolan then hard cuts to a gorgeous shot of their ship slowly spinning by Saturn to the sound of thunderstorms and crickets: it’s a brief scene in one of the quieter sections of the film that absolutely immerses you into the story, and is a testament to the work of Nolan’s longtime editor Lee Smith (this was their last collaboration to date).
Despite all this, as alluded to before many viewers could not get past this idea of love being a quantitative force with real power in the universe: without spoiling the dizzyingly maze-like ending of the film, in the end the younger Dr. Brand is proven right in her assumptions on love. What can we glean from this as Catholics? To answer this we must look to the Angelic Doctor.
The first of the five ways that Thomas Aquinas gives us to prove the existence of God is known as the “Argument from Motion,” which essentially states that all events have a cause and effect, and that therefore there must be a “first cause” or “Prime Mover” who set these events in motion. This implies that the universe could not have just suddenly come into existence like those who believe in the Big Bang proclaim. Aquinas writes:
Now whatever is in motion is put in motion by another, for nothing can be in motion except it is in potentiality to that towards which it is in motion; whereas a thing moves inasmuch as it is in act. For motion is nothing else than the reduction of something from potentiality to actuality.
In other words, since God is the first cause and thereby the Prime Mover, he cannot be in potentiality to be anything but that what He is: He is Yahweh (“I Am Who Am”). In his divine immutability He cannot change, and through knowledge and love is Actus Purus (Pure Act).
Despite the overwhelming and incomprehensible immensity of all these facets of God, He still chooses to communicate Himself and His Will to us through finite means, in the twofold way of the Holy Spirit influencing mankind since the days of the Old Testament in preparation for Jesus Christ to come down and bring to us everlasting life. Despite the seeming indeterminacy and chance of life, God, through His omnipresence, is always working in the world through Divine Providence. His work is not through the Deist notion of God “winding up” the world like a clock and then being hands-off post-Creation, but is active and ongoing, and it is through prayer and silence that we come to know Him and His Will for us.
This is the central theme of Interstellar, that through love- which is defined by Aquinas as consistently willing and choosing the good of the other- we as mankind are able to truly transcend our human nature, and that all our choices in this life have meaning and impact upon each other. In this film, many characters make good and bad choices, with the stakes being larger than ever in terms of whether or not the people on Earth will be able to survive to the next generation. Oftentimes these choices are made under a lot of pressure, and in two major instances a character lies to those around him either to ensure his own survival or to ensure the survival of others, both with dire consequences. But, as exemplified by the noble Coop, it is the virtuous, self-sacrificial man who wins out in the end: the one who best exemplifies Christ.
We cannot truly quantify love (although it’s possible Aquinas would’ve tried) in the sense that Dr. Brand speaks of, except maybe we can: it is quantifiable in the exhausted smile given to a new father from his wife who has just given birth to their child, a student who after months of struggling is excelling under a caring and invested teacher, and an old priest moved to tears who is celebrated by his parish after decades of service.
The most powerful force in the universe is the choice to love.
St. Thomas Aquinas, pray for us!
I consider Rotten Tomatoes scores for films in the 2010s or before pretty accurate assessments of what critics thought of a film, however since the site has more recently added way too many amateur critics to its ranks I no longer consider it a good aggregate. A recent exposé by Vulture highlights some of the other shady practices that have been happening over there in Tomatoland, and it’s not pretty.
Funnily enough Spielberg was originally set to direct this film from a script by Jonathan Nolan. When Spielberg eventually passed on it Jonathan took it to his brother who agreed to direct.