Wednesday, December 31, 2014

14 Best & Worst Films of 2014


As the year comes to a close, I wanted to take a look back on some of my favorite and least favorite films of this year. So here we go...

14 FAVORITE FILMS OF 2014:


 I begin this list by cheating. Technically Prisoners was released in September 2013, but I saw it several weeks ago, so there. This film may be slow and long, however it is probably one of the heaviest films I've seen this year. It gets under your skin, using few words and many gripping situations that challenges our humanity. If you've never asked yourself what you'd do and how far you'd go to save someone you loved, this is the story for you. And by the profound ending, you'll wonder who the prisoners the title is referring to are.

4.8 of 5 stars









 
This wasn't just a nostalgic film for me, even though it was just that (My favorite hobby growing up was building the coolest Lego structures you can imagine). This star-studded film wasn't just for kids, because the older you were, the more you could understand the themes, and the humor was so witty and silly and fast-paced, I can't remember a minute I wasn't laughing. With Tegan and Sara and the Lonely Island's song "Everything is Awesome" (not to mention the incredible soundtrack by Mark Mothersbaugh), the theme of team work of unique individuals was truly a breath of fresh air among a time where kid movies don't really give kids much to look up to.

5 of 5 stars






This is one of the few films on this list that I was surprised by. It was far more unique of a story than I thought it would be, and the main concept was creatively utilized throughout the entire plot. My only problem (and I wasn't actually bothered by it) is with the ending, as I think it contradicts the defining plot-device it used throughout the film. However, it still was awesome!

                                                                          3.9 of 5 stars




This film, inspired from Nelson Mandela's autobiography "Long Walk to Freedom", is worthy of a watch. If you don't know how Nelson Mandela has changed history, then you must see, and if you do, well, watch it anyways. As a film it is great, the soundtrack (Alex Heffes) is magnificent, and we need more role models like Mandela. His tale is a great one showing his emotional journey dealing with racism and horrendous oppression. If I could choose one film that students should have to see from this year, this would be it.


4.5 of 5 stars





 I already reviewed this film in my blog, so go ahead and check out the very short post if you're interested. And let me just say, if you're a film enthusiast, you should.


5 of 5 stars















Oculus is one of the greatest horror/psychological thrillers this year has to offer (contested by Babadook). With the horror genre suffering, this story of two siblings returning home to face their dark past is something else. I give this a lower ranking due only to the ending (What I dub Breanna's Law, ever since my sister posed her theory that a great movie can be ruined by a bad ending). The first half was phenomenal in its execution, and even after that as it led up to the finale, the inter-cutting of the past intertwined with the present was probably the best usage of flashbacks I have ever seen, but I felt the finale fell short. The film brought up some really profound psychological themes, and then just abandoned them in the second half. Still worthy of seeing though.

3.8 of 5 stars






However, my favorite thriller (crime /drama) of the year is by far Nightcrawler. It's dark social commentary on the cut-throat nature of yellow journalism in the news was breathtaking, and you'll slowly realize that as the movie progresses, you're more and more on the edge of your seat. Lou Bloom is a driven man desperate to make it or break it in the video crime journalism world of LA, and he blurs the line of morality as he crosses from observer to participant to be the best at the game. My fingers crossed for Jake Gyllenhaal getting a Best Actor nomination.

4.6 of 5 stars








The first Captain America absolutely sucked, so when the sequel showed up, it really upped the game for Marvel films. I've always felt that Marvel films (aside from some of the X-Men films) were too campy, but finally Marvel was brave enough to jump more into reality with a political commentary, and with great action sequences and note-worthy CGI. If you're into comic book films and haven't seen this, then what are you doing with yourself?

4.5 of 5 stars
Another crime / psychological thriller with an incredible social commentary on the effect of the media on the masses, and the masses obsession with facades. Almost every element of this film was brilliant, from the soundtrack (Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross (think Nine Inch Nails)), the director (David Fincher,  Fight Club, Se7en, The Social Network), the acting (Rosamund Pike, Ben Affleck, Neil Patrick Harris (as a creep?)), the writing (Gillian Flynn, award-winning novel author turned screenwriter), and more! I'll let the movie do all the talking (and the Academy Awards it'll get)
                                                                                               
                                                                                       5 of 5 stars.




Thank the Marvel gods that Bryan Singer came back to the X-Men Universe to resurrect the franchise, and not to mention an impressive cross-over between the new and old eras. Aside from a few plot holes [that just weren't explained well enough for audiences that don't know the comics], Days of Future Past really was quiet a fun ride. From the moment the title sequence begins with the return of composer/editor John Ottoman, you know that the X-Men you came to love are back to kick ass.

4.6 of 5 stars

I thought that this would be just your average action film, but this really took the secret agent story and upped the game, flipping a cliche on its head in a unique way. When Ethan Renner, a CIA "dropper" agent discovers that he's dying with only a few months to live, he is forced to retire and returns home to his ex-wife and teenage daughter, both of which he has barely been around due to his focus in his career. This film is more about Ethan trying to reconnect with his family and make up for lost time, all the while trying to balance one last mission. I'd say it is a drama film with the skeleton of an action film, and it is magnificently enjoyable. I felt that the author only missed some punches with the final Act, but otherwise, I was so damn proud.

4.1 of 5 stars



Darren Aronofsky is at it again, even referencing The Fountain within the re-imagining of the second creation mythology of the Torah. Many Christians were bothered by the film as there was a lot of public debate and speculation about it as the director is often cryptic and controversial with his storytelling. Lucky for you he's one of my favorite directors, and you really need to understand his background to get that he is actually paying homage to the origins of the Noah story (only a measly 4 chapters long), which happens to be Judaism (not Christianity), and he honors many other divergent sects of Judaism (texts of the Pseudepigrapha, Kabbalah, and Gnostism). Even things like the rock angels "The Watchers", that I thought he randomly made up, are actually apart of Jewish mythology. It was also a clever compilation of many of the stories of Genesis within one, including some liberties (such as environmentalism). There's so much more to say (a late blog post maybe?), but know that though I love this movie, I'm aware of some of its laughable short coming (Cinema Sins always knows just what to say): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gw6FlztSV1Y

                                                                                           4.2 of 5 stars




This film is so fantastic I simply don't want to spoil any of it for you. This indie sci-fi / action / thriller is set in a dystopian future where humanities attempt to combat global warming ends up freezing the earth and all life, save for the few survivors on board of a train that travels across the globe, in which a class war ensues. The soundtrack is brilliant too (Marco Beltrami), along with the acting, dialogue, and gripping story. You need to see this roller-coaster of a cinematic ride. Films are stories expressed through a visual journey, and this cinematographer/director team was probably one of the best I've ever seen.


5 of 5 stars



And last, but certainly not least, is Boyhood, the slow compilation of moments filmed over the course of 12 years. We literally get to watch this boy actor grow up into a man. This story is steeped in realism, and it really feels like we're watching a cinematic home video diary; an inside look into this boys life. It's slow and long (2 hours and 45 minutes), but if you have the time, you owe it to yourself to sit down and watch this touching tale. It's an unconventional method, but this writer/director has made cinematic history, and I'm hoping we'll see this with an Academy Award.

5 of 5 stars.



And which films should you stay clear of? Have no fear, I have that list too. In no particular order..


14 WORST FILMS OF 2014:


Son of God

Transedence

Godzilla

Maze Runner

300 Rise of an Empire

(And though I haven't seen them, my educated guesses...)

God’s Not Dead

Left Behind

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

I Frankenstein

Transformers: Age of Extinction

Maleficent

Ouija

Hercules

The Hobbit: Battle of Five Armies


So, you've been warned. Don't say I didn't tell you. But what do you think? Do you agree or disagree? Any others I should add to my list? Share with us!


Monday, December 29, 2014

Is Santa real?

       I stood in the garage, staring down at my blue and white plastic toy bin, filled to the brim with a zoo. It was a Noah’s ark of stuffed animals, but this ship was setting sail to never return. I was there to say goodbye to my imaginary friends, but no one really talks about how bitter [sweet] saying goodbye to your childhood is (Except maybe Toy Story 3). I was far older than I should have been, still playing with my family of fur, each and every one of them with their own unique personalities. They all had vivid relationships with one another, and they were far more real to me than my real human friends. I needed to let go. But how could I? How could I forget them? They were a part of me.


Spoilers, kids.

       To tell or not to tell. A tale as old as time: the conundrum of whether or not to tell children Santa is real or not. A few weeks ago I heard someone say something this Holiday season, and it got me thinking about the Santa dilemma again in a new way. Maybe we should concern ourselves not so much with whether or not to tell, but rather with what we are telling through telling, and how that in turn affects the next generation.


I overheard the parent (30’s) talking to an associate (20), and though I was intrigued to join the conversation, I bit my tongue and simply listened in. Paraphrased, this is what the young parent said:

“I think it’s a good thing to tell your kids that Santa is real. I don’t see it as lying. I see it as a lesson in faith...”
The parent, a dedicated Christian, went on to say that this lesson in faith was in essence an early practice for kids believing in Jesus, their Lord and Savior, and thus, believing in the teachings of the Church. What bothered me about this conversation had very little to do with the belief and practice of their religion (which I think can and often does bring incredible beauty to the world), but rather with the skewed definition of faith and what it actually teaches children indirectly. Because “the road to hell is paved with good intentions,” and often what we mean to teach our kids through certain teachings is not at all what in the end the kids learn.

       To use another quote in response to this quote, I will use one from the seventh season of a Showtime show. I think Dexter says it best,

“Christmas is a time of expectations. If you’re good, a red suited fat man will break into your house and leave you presents. But Santa Claus doesn’t exist. The most wonderful time of the year celebrates a lie.”

First off, I laugh out loud every time I hear that first part. That’s ridiculously funny to imagine that visual, because I never thought of it that way before hearing that. If we take the mythology literally, Santa is breaking and entering every residence on the damn planet, but at least he isn’t stealing. Right? ::Lol:: Quite the opposite. He’s leaving gifts! Well, on the condition that you weren’t bad this year, in which case its coals for your stocking.

But the Santa myth is just that. Santa isn’t real. So to say otherwise, is this lying? Let’s be fair and not assume this right away. Cause maybe the parent was correct in saying that it isn’t lying, but rather that it is an exercise in faith. Let’s look at some definitions.

Lie (N): a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood; an inaccurate or false statement. (Verb) to speak falsely or utter untruth knowingly, as with intent to deceive; to express what is false, convey a false impression.

Half of these definitions suggest that lying involves the intent behind it, but the other half do not. But, whenever in doubt about a definition, I look at its opposite. The antonym of a lie is truth.
Truth (N): the real facts about something, the quality or state of being true, statement or idea or belief that is or is accepted as true, in accordance with fact.
So honestly, when we tell kids that Santa is real, do we actually believe what we are saying? I would argue we do not. Just because you lie for a “good reason” doesn’t mean it isn’t a lie. And to tell children that Santa is real to give them a sense of joyful mystery is still just parents perpetuating an elaborate prank.

       However, to counter this stance, I shall point to an idea that I have presented in previous posts. In academic religious studies, scholars acknowledge that “truth” is relative to each belief. Certain aspects of a belief don’t have to be factual to be true [in essence]. So truth can be a bit hazy, because it doesn’t always have to be concrete fact, but can also be abstract and profound in nature. How can this be?

I think this gets at the heart of debate for parents that chose to tell their kids Santa is indeed real. To stay along the lines of religious upbringing, I will use an example from the books of the Bible. In the four books of the gospel, Jesus of Nazareth is accounted as telling parables (in some more than others). However, Jesus isn’t suggesting that these parables are factual. They are stories, quite possibly fictional. He’s making these stories up on the spot to answer questions or to pose new questions to his followers [and to those that disagree with him]. In a way they are propaganda, but for Jesus they were paradigm-shifting tales that laid down the moral foundations for his radical movement. His listeners even know that these parables are not factual, but that Jesus is getting at a deeper truth. And this is the point of stories, I would say. Stories are make-believe. They are lies framed around realities to tell a deeper truth.

So in some instances, lies can be good. Now, obviously I believe that this subject about lies and truth or bad and good aren’t so black and white. There are shades, like the differentiating spectrums of the color frequencies of a rainbow (blue and green are relatively close together (yet still unique and different), while there is a far greater difference between green and red). But my point is this: fabrications are not bad inherently. However, it depends on what is actually being learned. And I would suggest that telling your kids that Santa is real is different from Jesus telling his followers parables.


       When someone goes to read a new fictional book, they might go to the bookstore (I grew up in the 90’s when that was a thing) or order it online. When you search for the book, you find it in a very specific section. The book will even be labeled as this. Fiction. It doesn’t pretend to be something else.


Would you tell your children that Hogwarts is a real school, and if they work hard that they could be little wizards or witches too? That if they go into a train station and run into the brick wall somewhere between the ninth and tenth platform, they’ll find their way there?

Maybe you would, and maybe you wouldn’t. If you did play off that elements of the Harry Potter stories were true and real, I would guess that you would only pick certain things to mention were real, purposefully not mentioning other things [to avoid things like your children running into brick walls at train stations or jumping off your roof with a broomstick].

There’s a line that we draw between the real world and the imagined one, or else we’d be making some pretty dangerous decisions in the real world based on the imagined one. And you may know where that line is as an adult, but I’d suggest that kids don’t always. If I tell a kid that some elements of Harry Potter are real, avoiding mentioning which ones aren’t, then the child will assume that all the elements are real. Kids are trusting. They’re not so quick to catch the exceptions to the rules.

       Imagination is important to foster. I think it can be fostered differently (which I will get to soon). If you teach your kids to imagine things such as Santa is real with his magical reindeer and elves and that they better be good or he might not give them gifts, then you are teaching them at a very early age to cross the line between imagination and reality without warning them what mental mind games they are embarking on. Which isn’t too bad, until they find out that their parental figures, their guides and role models in the world, are lying to them. As a kid, it is traumatic. If Daddy and Mommy lied about this, what else could they be lying to me about? Is there anything else they’ve taught me that is a lie? This can lead to a few things: distrust or acceptance of delusion. I’ll let you consider the ramifications.

So is imagination the same thing as faith? I’d guess you’d disagree, and so would I. Then why are they often treated the same way?

I would say that the main reason that parents tell their kids to believe in things such as Santa Claus is because they want to foster the youthful joy of imagination. I think this reason is a beautiful intent. However, I don’t think we need to teach our kids how to imagine or believe. That comes all too naturally for them.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF BELIEF

       There is a well-studied theory that suggests we are predisposed to believe. That it is in our very psychology and biology to believe in the supernatural; we are drawn to explain the unexplainable. Not so convinced? Let’s jump down this rabbit hole and see how deep this chimney goes (yup, mixing up my analogies).

Teleology is the tendency to ascribe purpose to things in the assumption that they exist to serve a goal, even if such objects or aspects are trivial in the natural world. Recent research suggests that kids between 4-5 years old think in very teleological ways, often suggesting that lions are meant to “go to the zoo” and clouds are “for raining.” Also according to studies by Boston University psychologist Deborah Keleman (PhD), young children ages 7-8 years old were asked why prehistoric rocks are pointy, and they’d respond with such statements as “it’s so that animals won’t sit on them and smash them” and “so that animals can scratch on them when they get itchy.” These teleological cognitions cause us to perceive the natural world as a place of intentional design. The reason? Though these evolutions in our psychological tendencies have a side effect on religious thinking, they rather naturally occurred to serve our adaptive purposes.

These cognitions’ disposition have developed due to the social intelligent advantages of being able to think about what other people are thinking about and perceive their intentions and goals. If we are always thinking about the intentions and goals behind things (people, namely), then we are able to relate and even predict situations.

This frame of thinking also helps us in a more primal way. For example, we may perceive the sound of the wind rustling leaves in a forest to be a potential predator, so we may feel that we are being followed. Our brain operates in such a fashion as to consider every random occurrences as being caused by something or someone, because it is beneficial for us to be hyper-aware of our environment, ready for any possible threat. As a species, this overactive agency detection function in our brain keeps us safe and better helps us to survive and reproduce. Seeing random events in the lens of causality is one explanation why we believe in things such as ghosts. If you hear leaves rustle, but no one is there, you still feel as if someone is there. That’s an incident where the function of our brain affects more situations than it’s intended to. Faulty hard-wiring, you could say.

       We are also drawn to connect the dots, even when there is no pattern. It is an innate behavior for people to try to find meaning in things. We rationalize natural occurrences that we don’t fully understand with some pretty bizarre explanations. For example, societies invoke mythology for this reason. People in ancient culture didn’t understand why the sun rose and set every day, so they concluded things like “a chariot pulls the sun across the heavens.” So you’d get people explaining the occurrences of a drought or why a child was stillborn as caused by the supernatural.

We don’t deal well with things being random and without purpose, and so it is much easier for us to process them by explaining them in a different, intentional light. In a 2008 study in Science (Vol. 322, No 5898), Jennifer Whitson (PhD) and Adam Galinsky (PhD) found that people were more likely to see patterns in random dots if the researchers first caused the participants to feel like they had no control. This suggests that people, on a very basic cognitive level are primed to see patterns and signs in the world around them, and thus are biased to a certain kind of thinking about supernatural things (pre and afterlife, invisible beings, ghosts, gods, etc).

       I could go far more in depth into how we are predisposed to “believe” and how this affects us in so many ways (culturally, behaviorally, etc), but that’s neither here nor there. My point for this discussion is simply this. Belief in the supernatural (gods, religion, spirits, demons, ghosts, afterlifes, miracles, imaginary friends, monsters, etc) comes natural to us. We don’t need to raise our kids in such a manner that flexes those mental muscles, because they’re already bulked up. In a world that focuses on exercising upper-body muscles (blind faith), we need to stop missing leg day (critical thinking). We need balance so there aren’t so many people walking around looking like cones.

VALUES

       I think we teach our kids how to lie. Not that they wouldn’t learn this on their own, but that parents so deliberately mislead them, that their kids become confused by the mixed messages. We teach them different values than we intend to.

For example, the narrative of Santa Claus gets all tangled up in religious narratives as they are being taught to kids simultaneously, which ends up teaching them behaviors that are dangerous.
“You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town. He’s making a list, and checking it twice; gonna find out Who’s naught and nice. Santa Claus is coming to town. He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows if you’ve been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”
This is the birth of the prosperity gospel. The concept of Santa gets mixed up with the concept of God, as a figure that is either a bringer of blessing [if you have ‘behaved’] or a bringer of wrath [if you ‘deserve’ it]. If you are good, you get rewarded. But then this teaching gets more confusing when some parents (possibly wealthier or with more credit card debt) spoil their kids with expensive gifts. Then other kids (possibly of poorer families or with parents that are more conservative with their finances) get lesser gifts. When these two different kids meet [whether at school or in public], the possibility of discrimination rises due to such teachings. Not to mention all the consumerism that peaks its nasty head from “the most wonderful time of the year,” which is also ironically the time of the year that suicide rates reach their highest point.

These are just a few examples, but there are many ways that such teachings can actually teach bad values indirectly for our next generations. Is this how we should raise our kids?

       If anything, we should train our kids to NOT think this way as much. We should teach our children truth and values directly rather than trying to teach values indirectly through deception and delusion.

Let me be clear before I continue. I am not against Christmas. The holiday is celebrated across the globe in hundreds of different countries, all with an assortment of different versions depending on the cultures. Christmas is glorious in the sense that it unifies the world in holiday joy with similar themes while celebrating the beautiful cultures steeped in unique, divergent traditions (If you want to learn more about the many Christmas traditions across the globe, check out these awesome sites: http://www.lone-star.net/mall/main-areas/santafaq.htm#StNicholas and http://www.whychristmas.com/cultures/ ). I’m not even saying that we should abolish the mythology of Santa Claus. We should keep the joy and mythos a part of the holiday. I’m saying we should reconsider the usefulness of lying and pranking our children.

       So how to raise the future generations? Is there a better way? How can we pass the baton in such a way that truly creates a better tomorrow? We should find a balance between creativity and critical thinking. We can tell stories like Jesus of Nazareth did, where those who listen are made aware that the tales are fictional but tell a far deeper truth. We can tell our kids about Santa Claus in the same way we read them bedtime stories or books like Harry Potter. Kids can believe in fictional stories without believing that they are real, but emotionally these stories are still very real to them. They still fall in love with these characters, and even sometimes imagine what it’d be like if they were in these characters’ magical worlds. We can tell our kids the mythology of Santa Claus, and then tell them the true origin tale of St. Nicholas. We can get creative in how we tell the truth and how we tell mythology without mixing up the two.

Children are predisposed to believe and to trust. We should honor their trusting nature by being honest with them, but also teaching them the dangers of blind faith, training them with new skills (critical thinking), and fostering things such as creativity and good behaviors. We can teach them the difference between faith and imagination, mythology and deception. Imagine a generation of teenagers making more informed and logically thought-out decisions in the face of their emotionally-charged adolescence because their parents taught them these skills. One can dream, right?

       So though Christmas has come and gone, there’s always the next one. So how will you answer the question…is Santa real or not?


A boy on the brink of becoming a young man, I stood alone in that garage, mourning over the thought of saying goodbye to my family of imaginary friends. They would never die. They would never betray me. They never would leave me, I thought as I sealed them beneath the play-bin lid.

But I left them. I had to. It was time to say goodbye to my youth. It was time to be a grown-up. It was time to stop believing in the fairy tales as if they were more real than the real world. I would never say goodbye to their memory. I would never forget how they had been there for me when I needed them most. How they had taught me so much…about myself. They weren’t just a part of me. They were me.

So how could I leave them? I was not saying goodbye to my imagination. No, on contrary. I was learning to embrace my imagination…and reality. I was learning to distinguish the difference between the two, and to cherish both for what they were. But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like I was betraying a best friend. To say they weren’t real felt like the greatest insult. But really, I would come to realize that I was acknowledging them as far more real than the real world. Their power and presence was far greater than what could be seen, for what can be seen can be killed and swept away, but what cannot be seen is invincible, for it is a whisper in the wind. Or is it just the wind?

Sunday, December 21, 2014

LOCKE

Collateral meets Buried in this more serene 2013 UK drama starring Tom Hardy. Ian Locke is a man driving in his car one night, a night that will change everything. The drive consists of him having to make a series of phone calls as he heads towards his destination. Now, you may ask, can someone really make a cinematic story out of just a guy driving a car while making phone calls? Locke answers that question with a resounding reply. This is what differentiates the men from the boys, for this is a film amidst a world of mere movies.

Directed and written by Steven Knight, most well-known for Eastern Promises, Knight truly puts the audience in the concrete-crusted shoes of Ian Locke, a successful construction manager who is driving the opposite direction from the biggest concrete-laying of his career. Ian Locke has always gotten the job done, and has always been a good, family man. But tonight, he faces the consequences of a mistake he made less than a year earlier, and he has made his choice in response, driving towards it to pay penance for his wrong-doing to redeem his family’s fucked-up legacy.

As the audience, you get to sit there with Ian Locke in his car, filled with his inner demons and his desperate attempts to make the right decision. All he can do is call upon the aid of others, and put his hope and trust in them to create the best outcome. But this car ride is a wrestling with the flaws of humanity, and you’re never quite sure how the car ride will end. The road he drives on is not the concrete he so loves and trusts in; a dependable, unflinching material that you can create grand achievements from. For he has always been concrete, always the reliable one; but tonight, as he reminisces on his one mistake, he recognizes that one crack can ruin the entire foundation of the greatest building. It is his one mistake that threatens to tear his entire world down.

The beautiful soundtrack is composed by Dickon Hinchliffe (Out of the Furnance, Winter’s Bone), and it is the music that truly complements Tom Hardy’s acting and cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos’ (Jack Ryan: Shadow Recruit, Thor) simple but eerie style. It is a modest film with a whole lot to say in profound and genuine ways. Normally I’m an once and done kind of guy in relation to movies. Typically once you’ve experienced a movie, the magic is dispensed with the fading of the mystery. However, I would say that this film is a journey worth experiencing again, simply because its messages hit the heart in a quiet way with a slow tension that many movies just don’t do anymore.


I love to write short reviews, because it means I have nothing critical to say about the pace. I give it 5 stars, and probably one of the best films I’ve seen this year. My one critique?: It's more of a drama than the thriller the trailer makes it out to be. Enjoy :)


Saturday, November 22, 2014

MOCKINGJAY, PART 1


“Drop oxygen to 17%. Hold your breath, it’s going to be a long night.”

                The above quote is paraphrased from the film, but it represents one of the reasons why the Mockingjay Part 1 suffered. The newest Hunger Games film is the victim of the newest trend of Hollywood studios’ desperate ploy to make money. Not only is the Hunger Games series an adaptation from the popular book series, but the final chapter of the trilogy has been divided into two films. What worked well for Harry Potter (the 7th and final book being divided into two films), has not worked for any other film. Studios have tried it with the final chapters of book-adaptations-to-screen such as Twilight and The Hobbit, both butcheries in story-telling (The short adventure novel of The Hobbit has been ruined by being over-stretched and beefed up into three overly CGI’d unepic epics, and the foolish adolescent books of Twilight projected onto the screen in an equally horrible fashion). All of this is a bad gimmick, and I’m not the first [but hopefully the last] to beg Hollywood to stop. As I take a short examination at The Hunger Games series, and specifically reviewing the Mockingjay Part 1, I’ll explain the problems in this newest cinematic tactic and why it ruins the storytelling process.

Structure

There are three problems with splitting this third and final chapter into two parts. The first is structure. When it was [well] done for the Harry Potter series, it made sense for a few reasons. One, the last book was the longest of the series and this final chapter was far more complicated than the other books, as it tied up all the plot lines and introduced a new story (the Deathly Hallows) for the conclusion. Two, since the series was so long, an elongated finale was fitting. 

However, when you have a book trilogy (The Hunger Games), it is too short to elongate the finale without throwing off the balance of a good story structure. This is especially important for screenwriting, where unlike any other written art form, every single word is vital and has major repercussions (the only exception I can think of would be some forms of poetry). Imagine a puzzle with too many pieces or with one corner that spread out too far. Screenplays [and thus all their sequels compiled into a complete series] have a very precise structure, a story arc that has balanced ingredients at very specific time intervals. Act 1, Act 2, Act 3. For a 2-hr film, Act 1 is 30 minutes, Act 2 is divided into two 30 minutes, and Act 3 is 30 minutes [and often shorter than this as the final Act is meant to wrap everything up, and fast]. This structure can be manipulated depending on the overall length of the film, but the basic structure must remain, and we as people naturally sense when the story isn’t told in this fashion (imagine someone told you a joke where the punch line took three sentences to say rather than one). 

But this screenplay structure is reflected in the series structure as well. Now obviously the precise lengths of each film don’t match this formula in a series, but when you have a trilogy, the first chapter plays as The Set-Up (Act 1), the second as The Journey (Act 2), and the third as The Conclusion (Act 3). So if the Conclusion of the story is dramatically longer than the Set-up, we feel like something is wrong with how the story is told. Because there is. The last chapter should be shorter, not longer than the other chapters. 

Arguably, this problem can be solved by suggesting that Mockingjay Part 1 is the second part of Act 2 in the grand scheme of the series, especially since it contains the darkest hour of the story (the finale of the film; SPOILER: Peeta has been brainwashed into fearing Katiness and trying to kill her). I could let this slide if it weren’t for the second problem.

Pacing and Tone

The second problem is mood. I’ll describe this as two parts (ironically); pacing and tone. What made Catching Fire so great was the slow but steady escalation. Though Katiness was no longer in the Games arena, she was slowly realizing that she and Peeta were still a part of the political game (the deeper element of the Games that enslaved all the districts of Panem), and they were never getting off that “train”. As someone says, “the odds are never in our favor”. The dramatic suspense built as no matter what the two did, the Districts were growing increasingly restless with the façade, and the Capitol was bringing down the iron fist. This dramatic suspense built to the two being selected for the Games again, but this time the contestants were all previous winners, upping the stakes again, eventually boiling into action. Even the Hunger Games had this steady pacing and mood, though the sequel pulled it off much better.


So when Mockingjay Part 1 didn’t match this pacing, it fell short. Just as the tension of the film finally builds, we’re cut off. The basic plot of the story of the Mockingjay does actually match the pacing of the previous two stories, but when you split it down the middle, you get something entirely different.

Which leads us to tone. Mockingjay Part 1 was essentially a political drama. Not a sci-fi political adventure. Imagine watching a comedy series (like The Hangover), but the last movie is a tragedy film. Not what you paid to see, huh? Films can dabble in other genres, but they shouldn’t change genres. However, I’d argue that a film may go from, say, a dramatic mystery to a thriller in tone, but not the other way around. As the story progresses, the stakes must be raised. Like ascending a mountain to the top, the journey must escalate until the climax. You don’t want to fall down the mountain in slow motion, so to say.

I keep contrasting the Mockingjay Part 1 with Deathly Hallows Part 1, so how was the Harry Potter film able to take on a Drama-esque tone and Hunger Games wasn’t? One, it was well done. Two, it gave us a lot of intimate time with all the main characters, putting them to their breaking points. Three, each of the Harry Potter films (and books) were slower paced with more dramatic tones until their climatic ending when you finally got to see the villain you waited the whole story to see. Each book (and thus film) repeated the style. Some of the stories were more epic than others, and each director portrayed their own tone and style slightly differently, but they never lost the feel of the genre of Harry Potter, boy wizard trying to find his place in a larger, weirder world with hidden, looming threats. The content of each films of the Hunger Games series has remained on subject, so it isn’t the necessarily the tone, but how the tone is paced.

The ending of the Mockingjay Part 1 really should have been the Midpoint in the last film, because this is when the protagonist’s chosen goal for his/her journey becomes more complicated, and they have to readjust, often changing their goal to face the new obstacle. Katiness’ first goal of the final chapter? Become the Mockingjay, helping lead the rebels against the Capitol so that she can save Peeta. The Midpoint conflict: They save Peeta, only to find that the thing she loves most has been turned against her. What will she do? She has to readjust her goal.

Plot and Character

Which leads to the third problem with the division, which is how this pacing affects the plot and characters.

The plot is way too slow, and that has to do with the characters, specifically the protagonist. All of the characters are passive, locked in the bunker and occasionally let out for some air before being summoned back to the confines. The characters suffocate. They have so much time (which you’d think would be more opportunity to shine), but they don’t really have the room to do much. Especially Katiness. She doesn’t really do much. And neither does District 13. They stay hidden in their bunker, playing propaganda clips.

Even in the beginning, when Katiness is crippled by the fact that Peeta was left behind, Command decides she needs to be shown what happened to her District, then the very next scene she’s going with them. So Gale says he can’t believe she’s going along with this, we don’t see her make this decision, so she’s instantly reduced to a passive character. She’s playing a new game, now enslaved to District 13 instead of the Capitol. Which is, I’d say, some of the subtle commentary of the film, but this means that she’s just being dragged along for the ride. What made Katiness interesting in the other films was even though she was being forced into situations, she was reacting in unique ways that the Capitol didn’t want, which threw off the system. For films, your protagonist must be active, making their own decisions and taking action even if they are forced into situations. In the film, she doesn’t do much of this. The two exceptions I can think of are the most intense parts of the film. First when they are in District 8 when the bombings are happening and instead of going to the bunker she runs with Gale following to shoot down the bombers. Second when District 13 is being bombed and when she realizes her younger sister isn’t in the bunker, she runs out to get her, even though the bunker doors are sealing behind her. But otherwise, Katiness isn’t very active. Even in the climax of the film, she does nothing but watch the screens as the six-man squad (including Gale) infiltrate the Capitol to retrieve Peeta and the other captured tributes, and the only moment she does something is when she jumps on camera to address President Snow. That’s it. That is way too inactive for a protagonist in an adventure series.

How would you have solved this inactivity in your protagonist? Don’t split the final chapter into two parts. The last film could have been longer, but the characters would have been naturally more active because there would have been less time for them to sit around and do nothing. The story would move along much faster.

Successes

                Enough criticism. In what ways did the film succeed? To wrap this up, there are four things that stand out to me about the Mockingjay Part 1.

First, just after filming the propaganda video of Katiness in the studio, Command watches it, not impressed by how fake it feels (the CGI’d crowd and rubble behind them doesn’t help). Then Haymitch (Woody Harrelson) gets up, wiping the screen away and asking Command what were the things that had made them genuinely like Katiness, aside from all the facades. They list three moments, each moments that Katiness was unscripted. I found this a very interesting commentary [and an ironic yet unintentional insight into a flaw of the film].

In screenplays, there is a moment that we refer to as “save the cat” or “pet the dog.” It refers to the protagonist doing something unique early on that shows their character and essentially makes the audience emotionally side with them. Often films now-of-days miss this moment, and we preferably want several of these moments throughout the film. The Mockingjay Part 1 didn’t have many parts where we emotionally felt that there was anything unique about Katiness’ character (aside from the previous films), but there was a “save the cat” moment. It was when she returned home and brought home the cat. I chuckled to myself because she essentially literally saved the cat. Actually, all of the moments involving the cat were the most character-building and human moments of the film, and I’m not even an animal person.

Second, Gale. This is the first film we really get to hang out with his character and get to know him. We get to see why there is even a “Team Gale,” and why Katiness might like him other than his muscular body and good looks. We get to see Gale argue with Katiness about Peeta being a traitor, how he’d rather be tortured to death than do that, and then we see Gale describe what happened to their District and how he could only watch the citizens be burned alive. All of these make Gale interesting and complex.

Third, Gale’s insight into Katiness’ character. An intriguing moment is after Gale takes the camera crew on the tour of the burned District, when Katiness finds Gale in her abandoned mansion. He mentions that the kitchen was the room when she kissed him (in the second film after he was tortured), and she mentions she’s surprised that he remembered. She then kisses him, and he says he knew she was going to do this, which surprises her. Gale isn’t though, noting that the only way she pays him any attention is if he’s in pain. I thought this revelation was even more insightful to her character, because originally she was a very cold and closed-off character, and the moments that break her and make her emotional are when people are being hurt.

                Fourth, when the rebel film-maker crew are taking a break near a lake, Mockingjay birds fly around them, mimicking the whistles of one of the crew (who had his tongue removed by the Capitol). He then cheerfully signals to Katiness, asking her to sing. I found this concept intriguing, as she is the human representation of the Mockingjay. Jennifer Lawrence then goes on to sing “The Hanging Tree”. When the actress prepared for this moment, she allegedly was crying beforehand, as she was scared and hates singing in front of people. The melody, only her voice until the end, when the musical theme creeps in with many more voices chanting in, is a perfect representation of the film. It reflects the tone and pacing of the film, the lyrics beautiful reflect themes that Katiness deals with, and frankly I’d say it is one of the best elements of the film. Take a listen: 



                That’s my verdict. Share with me your thoughts. What did you think were the best and worst aspects of the Mockingjay Part 1?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

INTERSTELLAR



CASE: “This is not possible.”

Cooper: “It’s necessary.”

Two nights after it was released, I saw the newest Nolan film in IMAX 70MM at the renovated TLC Chinese Auditorium, and I left the theater shaken to my core. Okay, maybe that was due to the wake of the surround sound speakers.

It was visually astonishing, musically breathtaking, emotionally cathartic, and full of black holes. And I mean plot holes. Let me just say this. I graduated from CSU Northridge with a Bachelors of Arts in Film Production and for the last seven years my hobby has been screenwriting, so I love film enough to dedicate my life and copious amounts of student debt enslavement to the art of profound, cinematic stories. So when I say that Christopher Nolan is my favorite director, don’t take it lightly. But as incredible as the film was, there were definitely some problems. I definitely advise seeing it, but just know that it is no The Prestige or Inception.

As a critic, I’m going to focus mostly on the negatives, but just know I cared enough about it that I went and saw it in a regular theater the very next day. I shall discuss the Audio, Thematic dialogue, Soundtrack, Character, and Plot (holes and best moments). 

The Audio

The most frustrating part of the whole experience of watching Interstellar was the audio, or more specifically, the sound-mixing distinguishing the dialogue from…any other sound made in the movie.

I understand the tactic that they were trying to do. I love Nolan for his usage of realism. And it normally works. From practical affects to limited CGI to shooting in good ole fashioned film, Nolan as a director does his best to make his films a truly authentic, gritty-real experience. The mixing for the audio was designed to put you, the viewer, ‘in the moment’; to experience what it would sound and feel like if you were an astronaut traveling through black holes and to strange new worlds (Check out this video from the Sound team: http://www.soundworkscollection.com/videos/the-sound-of-interstellar). But nothing took me more ‘out of the moment’ than straining my ears to try to understand whatever the hell was being said. I honestly probably didn’t hear about a quarter of all the dialogue. In a movie where every line is important to understanding the complicated ideas the story is tossing at you, this is a grievous loss.

I wondered if maybe this was just because I saw it in IMAX with speakers far bigger than my 6’2” self, so I spent the money to go see it in a regular theater the next day. That time, I was able to hear much more of the dialogue, but maybe that’s because I knew when to really listen more attentively. Though you truly feel the sound in a real IMAX theatre, much like riding a motorcycle (which was truly awesome), I do NOT advise seeing it in the format that Christopher Nolan “intended” you to see it: IMAX 70MM.

The Dialogue and Thematic

Along the lines of the dialogue, I’d like to mention that everyone in the film seems to be a philosopher. Everyone has seemingly deep and compelling ideas to speak about. And not just occasionally, but almost every moment of the movie. Which, for the sake of realism, is not realistic. I understand that this is a very thematic piece, which I love. But there’s a few problems with how it was done.

First, even in a world and situations where you’re dealing with the threat of the end of humanity, no one is going to be speaking philosophically every couple of seconds.

Secondly, not to bash on anyone’s intelligence, but not everyone even thinks in a philosophical way often. When Anne Hathaway was defending her case about the power of love, I was surprised that Matthew McConaughey didn’t laugh at her. I would have thought it would have made him far more an interesting character if he had. Imagine him like the skeptical scientist (Jodie Foster) in the similar film Contact [which ironically stars Matthew McConaughey opposite her as the man of faith].

Thirdly, you know the phrase too ‘on the nose’? Imagine taking a hammer to the nose. When you’re being thematic in your story, you don’t want it to be obvious all the time that you’re talking about your theme. But even still, some of these ideas that are being dealt with aren’t actually that deep and profound to begin with. The whole talk about love transcending all things (especially time) was really cheesy. I somewhat agree with the concept, but it shouldn’t have been talked about so much, but rather implied. Sometimes the most compelling things are the things not said, because they are so complex no words can express. Christopher Nolan often tells and shows, but often in film you just want to show.

The Soundtrack

As much as everyone raves about Hans Zimmer and as successful as he is, he’s not my all-time favorite composer. He works on so many soundtracks that often many of them sound the same. However, his work on Interstellar was truly phenomenal and distinctive. Hans Zimmer normally focuses on creating action epic music (heavy brass, etc.), but this time he took a lesson from James Newton Howard (the composer he was teamed up with on Batman Begins and Dark knight), using more of violins and strings, and even ushering in an unique usage of organs. I will definitely buy the hard copy of this entire soundtrack.

Structure

In the first Act, there are random cuts to documentary-like footage of older people talking about their experiences during earth’s last days. After a few of these inserts though, they completely disappear until the end of the third Act, and they are simply referenced. Why? You could completely take them out of the film, it’d be shorter, and better. (SPOILER: Revealing the clips of people in their old age talking about the subject matter actually alludes to the possibility that everything is alright in the end. Imagine if I started telling you a long story about the end of the world, but I say “spoiler! Everyone is alright in the end.”) Yeah, you lose all of the tension before the movie even blasts off. Also, the documentary clips serve the plot in no way except unnecessary exposition. Nolan sometimes has a problem with “telling” rather than just “showing”.

Character

Authors naturally either focus more on “Character” or “Plot”. Christopher Nolan tells his stories more from the latter, even though they have a lot of heart in them. However, he often misses the intricacies of “character” that make people three-dimensional, which is ironic because he literally suspends his characters through multiple dimensions. Often his characters come across as flat, and show up simply for the plots purpose. You might miss this fact, because Nolan is brilliant and casts even the smallest roles with noteworthy and talented actors (ex. Topher Grace). But actors can only carry a performance so far if their character doesn't have, well, character.

Also, when you have a character grow up, you need to consider them as a new character, because the audience notes that this is a new actor. You basically need to reintroduce the character with new depth, something that shows they aren't a flat character.

For example, I will use another 2014 release as an example. In Guardians of the Galaxy, we begin with Starlord as a kid, and he visits his mother in a hospital, dying. She gives him a gift, and then dies. He runs out crying, and is then abducted by aliens. Holy shit. Then, the very next scene, he is grown up as (Chris Pratt), but he’s wearing a rogue attire with a villainous mask, exploring a dark, perilous world. We sense that he has been scared by the years away in space, just like this world. He enters a temple, takes off his mask, and pops in the headphones (from the gift of his dead mother, to a Walkman), and then begins upbeat music. And though it is just the opening credits, he begins DANCING through the perilous temple like a walk in the park. Now THAT is character. That SHOWS us so much about this person. Though he’s had a shitty hand dealt to him, he is optimistic and careless. He’s maybe a bad boy with a heart, and he’s too goofy for his own good.
Christopher Nolan’s characters often miss those moments. And if you want us to care about your characters, especially when they grow up, we need something like that. We need to FEEL for the characters. Imagine meeting a new character is like going on a date. You’ve only got a few minutes for that first impression, and if we don’t find something unique and quirky about that person, we lose interest.


PLOT

This is the midpoint of my review, and from here on out, this will all be SPOILERS. If you don’t want to read Spoilers, skip to the last paragraph. Otherwise, I will examine the best moments of the films, and the black holes of the plot through Act 1, 2, and 3.

Act 1
Best Moment #1:

Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) leaves the house, driving away in his truck as we hear the shuttle take-off countdown, and young Murphy (Ellen Burstyn) runs out of the house crying for her Dad to wait, but he is already gone. And Cooper never sees this. Cooper looks under the blanket on the passenger seat, where he caught Murphy hiding in a previous scene. But no Murphy this time. He is all alone. And his daughter hates him for leaving.

Black holes (4):

First, the dust. It is never really explained what this is really about. All we know is that the planet is suffering from a famine where most plant life is dead, and humanity is at risk of starving. Why? Is it the dust storms that are causing the famine, or the famine causing the dust storms? There is no answer, but get used to these kind of problems in this film. Sometimes in cinematic stories, it is good to suggest knowledge rather than explicitly stating it. This is trusting the audience, because you’re hoping they’re smart enough to fill in the blank. But you don’t want to do that all the time. You don’t even need one dialogue line to answer this question, yet it isn’t answered.

Second, the binary dust lines on Murphy’s bedroom floor. So Cooper stares at the lines long enough to figure out that they are coordinates. But here’s the problem. Binary code (0’s and 1’s) take up a lot of lines to convey data, and we’re not just talking about the broad location defined by longitude and latitude, but the precise coordinates that pinpoint them to the NASA secret facility. How do all of these lines fit on the limited space of the bedroom floor? There isn’t enough room, and we clearly only see a few lines. Also, these coordinates lead to NASA, which is only a few hours away. Isn’t that oddly convenient?

Third [on that last note], why does NASA not summon Cooper to fly their mission? Professor Brand (Michael Caine) reveals that Cooper was their best pilot, and their secret base was literally just within driving distance. I understand why the screenplay has the coordinates lead Cooper to NASA, and not NASA coming to Cooper, but this is just too convenient.

Fourth, Plan A. When describing Plan A, the characters only say that they designed the NASA facility for space, and they plan to use it to move people off of earth, but they don’t really explain how that would even work. Then Professor Brand comes in talking about gravity, gravity, and theorems. He says he’ll have figured out the theorem by the time Cooper gets back from the mission. But what the hell is the theorem? It’s incredibly vague. Did he just pull this theorem out of his butt? It’s like if a child asked a scientist why the planet rotates and revolves around the earth, the scientist just says “oh yeah, um, gravity.” Or rather…”Because I said so.” No further explanation needed I guess. We are left to assume that by gravity they mean finding a way to understand the quantum physics of wormholes, but they don’t even try to use big words to make them sound smart or try to illustrate precisely what they mean.

Act 2
Best Moment #2:

Due to Brand’s (Anne Hathaway) momentary mistake on the water world, they have lost 23 years in relation to Earth time. Cooper watches the video archives sent from Earth addressed to him, and he literally watches his son Tom’s (now Casey Affleck) life pass him by, from graduation to marriage to the birth and then death of their first son, and then his own father’s death (John Lithgow). And then for the first time, Cooper sees footage of his grown-up daughter Murphy (now Jessica Chastain) saying that it is her birthday, and she is the same age he was when he left. Relativity is a bitch.

I actually really liked the first half of Act 2, and felt like there weren’t any real problems with the plot until the second half…

Black holes (3):

                First, the transmissions. Transmissions can be sent from Earth into the wormhole and received on the other end, but this doesn’t work vice versa [except with the use of simple beacon pings or something of the sort]. What? This is clearly a cheap gimmick of the plot. Another conveniences just for the sake of the story.

Second, Tom’s wife (Leah Cairns) and second son’s (Liam Dickinson) cough. Getty (Topher Grace) says that it is bad, and they shouldn’t stay another moment in the house. But they don’t explain why it is so bad. Are their lung issues because of the dirt? Or rather does it have to do with the gravitational phenomenon in the house? This latter explanation is far more compelling, but it isn’t even hinted at, so it’s better to assume it is just the dirt. But then why doesn’t Tom have the cough? He is outdoors far more often than his family is (being a farmer and all), so why is he okay? If I was just given answers, I’d be okay. But too often this film possess an idea without a real explanation.

Also, let’s talk about Getty’s anger-issues. We barely know anything at all about this character (he’s a friend of Murphy’s who works in the hospital), but within moments of discovering that the wife and kid [that he’s possibly never met] have serious lung damage, the moment Tom walks in the door, Getty’s basically yelling at Tom that he has a responsibility to get them out. Getty is the reason Tom gets mad in the first place. I mean hell, I’d be pissed too if some random person started telling me to get my family out of the house I grew up in and that basically it was my fault that they were dying. I mean, shit man, read the room. And then when Getty is helping Murphy get the wife and kid out of the house, he yells at them to get in the back seat. I mean come on dude, I know you were only the Venom for like 20 minutes in Spiderman 3, a really shitty movie, but no reason to yell at anyone. You’re in a rush, but no need to seem like an impulsive, angry dickhead.

Third, Dr. Mann’s (Matt Damon) lies and murderous behavior. I know that Nolan loves to delve into the themes of lies and the ethical dilemmas they pose. It’s probably the dominant signature theme I’ve detected in all of his works, but I was very surprised at how dominant it was in Interstellar. Which I liked actually. But when it came to Dr. Mann (Matt Damon) lying about his ice planet being habitable, I thought this was foolish on his part as a character. I mean, I understand why he activated his beacon. He didn’t want to die alone, and that button was haunting him for years. But why’d he lie about it once they arrived? What was the worst thing that would have happened if he came clean the moment the astronauts arrived? They would have still brought him along with them, even if they were really pissed. Yes, it would ruin his reputation, but his lie was inevitable to be discovered anyways, so for the sake of self-preservation, why not come clean? I suppose the easy answer to this is faulty human emotions. He wasn’t thinking clearly, and maybe even went a little nuts being alone for so many years. I’ll let it slide, but I thought it was worth noting.

Act 3
Best Moment #3

Dr. Mann steals one of the shuttles, and imperfectly docks with the space station “Endurance,” Cooper and Brand try to talk him down, but as he opens the airlock, he begins a monologue that abruptly is cut short by the depressurizing explosion, ripping the shuttle and station to pieces. I’m not shocked easily, and I normally know what’s going to happen next in films, but I was caught breathless. I instantly thought “Fuck. It’s over. They’re hopeless.”

This was the “darkest hour” of the film, the moment that propels us from the end of Act 2 into Act 3, and I’d say it was the best “darkest hour” I’ve seen in a while. But the sequence continues with Cooper blasting their shuttle toward the station, attempting to match the station’s velocity and dock with it before it falls into the planet’s atmosphere. It was the most epic moment in the film, far grander than even the climax.

Now this is where the real plot holes are, as we literally delve into the black hole.

Black holes (3):

First, the biggest problem in my opinion is the causality loop. 

Imagine one timeline. A->B->C->D->E->F

Point A is Cooper with Murphy on Earth. Point B is Cooper leaving Earth, through the wormhole. Point C is Cooper entering the black hole. Point D is Cooper within the Tesserack sending Murphy on Earth the black hole data. Point E is Murphy completing the gravity theorem, gaining mastery over dimensions. Point F is humans in the future dwelling within five dimensions, creating the wormhole in Point B.

The paradoxical question; what came first: Point B, the appearance of the worm hole, or Point F, the creation of the worm hole?

We call this a causality loop, and it appears in a ton of science fiction films. Think films like Back to the Future or Terminator, but here’s the problem; both of those films BEGIN with the concept of time travel. The films revolve around the concept of changing the past. Interstellar only gets into the idea of relativity at the MIDPOINT of the film. In screenwriting, the first ten minutes of the 1st Act is the time period in which one reveals what is possible in this world.

Think the opening scene in The Matrix when Trinity is running from the Agents. Why is that scene even there? It is there to explain what the rules of the world are. People can do supernatural things. A person can be sucked into a telephone. Nothing is as it seems. By the end of the 1st Act, Neo has been prophesized as the One, removed from the Matrix, and seen the machines enslaving humanity. This is the real world. All the cards have been laid out on the table for the audience.

Interstellar is a longer film, so the 1st Act is longer than your standard 30 minutes, so let’s go over what we learn in the 1st Act. The world is dying from famine, some gravitational phenomenon is occurring in Murphy’s bedroom that she calls a ghost, delivering a specific message pointing to a secret NASA facility, where they are prepping the last space mission to another galaxy through a wormhole that was placed there by supposedly extra-terrestrials. This wormhole allows shuttles to travel across the universe almost instantly. Do we have all the necessary rules of the universe? I’d argue not fully. Sure, along with wormhole travel comes the idea of relativity, but that isn’t even acknowledged until well into Act 2. And relativity isn’t time travel. It is the concept that time moves faster or slower depending on where you are. Only at the MIDPOINT does Cooper even bring up the idea that could they maybe rewind time, and Brand says no, that the only thing that is unrestrained by time is gravity (they go hand in hand). So only half way through the movie do we get all the rules of the universe. Too late.

The point. Don’t add new rules, especially if they are game changers, so late into the story.

Second, how does old Murphy know about Brand’s condition on the desert planet? And how does she even know that Cooper and Brand had bonded? Can humanity already manipulate the fifth dimension to see infinitely through time? If they have that much capability now, why hadn’t they sent anyone to retrieve her then?

Third and finally, this leads us to Murphy and Cooper. Father and daughter have finally been reunited, and then Murphy says that a parent should never see their child die. That’s pulling at the emotional heart strings. But then she says he should go, seeing that she has her kids to see her off. What the hell. If I were Cooper, there’s no way in hell that I’m leaving my daughter for a moment, even if she’s about to die. He just missed her entire life, his whole family is dead. He’d be grief stricken, but he wouldn’t leave her again. Come on, Nolan. You’ve spent the whole movie talking about the power of love, and then he just says “see ya!”

                In conclusion, Interstellar was an epic film that was truly incredible, but it was too hard to understand (let alone hear some of the dialogue) due to too many plot holes or simply unexplained ideas, and even with the explained ideas, they weren’t portrayed as profoundly as Nolan may have thought them to be. I say it is a must see, but it falls short of the format he wanted you to see it in (70MM Film) and his other astounding works. See it in a regular IMAX setting.

Feel free to share your opinions below.