If you’ve been keeping up with my latest ramblings, then you know that I wasn’t the biggest fan of Interstellar, despite my feverish love of Nolan’s past work. And I’ve never considered much about the underlying themes or connections between his movies. Until now.
No, this isn’t like a “shared universe” theory. No one has time for that. This is something better.
And I realized something. The film’s final act, like its labyrinthine middle, rushed start or organ-blasting score, isn’t meant to inspire. Because this film is a farce. It is Nolan’s letter to Flora, his daughter. Stretched to the grandest scales, this movie is his most withering self-critique. Here’s why.
I think Akshay’s on to something. And after reading through his admittedly long arguments, I’m a believer.
If anyone’s capable of doing something like this across multiple movies over 16 years, it’s Christopher Nolan.