I stayed up talking to a film reviewer last night about whether he found Interstellar to be good. He agreed with me that there was a gap between what we were supposed to feel, the epic story of departing without a hope of returning, and what the film actually provoked in us.
I found the writing to be melodramatic a lot of times. Though I appreciated several scenes, like the one where they land on the water planet, I thought that the script was sometimes strangely paced. For example, the scene where we meet Matt Damon’s character quickly speeds toward the revelation that Matt Damon’s character hopes to escape from the planet where he has been stranded. It all happens so fast that I had trouble convincing myself that I should be shocked or scared when Matt Damon fights Matthew Mcconaughey.
We don’t even have to dissect scenes to really get a sense of the flaws. The main character Matthew Mcconaughey plays- father, astronaut, engineer, and widowed husband, is flawless and thus hard to relate to.
Whenever we talk of space movies, though, we must return to 2001 Space Odyssey, which balances scale, story, and score. Kubrick wanted us to feel the iciness of space and the problem of depending on machines. How could he have achieved such a feat in the silence of space, where we see the character exercising on a spinning ship? The ear popping ring of the monolith suddenly breaks the silence or the bone shattering scene with the symphony in the background reveals the importance of carefully timed scores and sound effects. Too much is not always a good thing.
Christopher Nolan did not need a grand score or fancy gimmicks to create a story that touched the viewer, but it seems that is what he resorted to.