intersteller: a vicious review for tim: part 1

I’ve tried to write this review many times since I saw this horrific hellscape of a movie.

My opinion of this film has made me more friends and enemies than any other belief I hold. Those who are correct are the friends. Those who fall short are the enemies.

One of the friends was my brother-in-law, Tim, who understood that this is a stupid movie filled with garbage fake science and, for reasons I still cannot explain, space libraries.

I lost Tim recently, and I don’t know who I’m going to text now when I remember a new, stupid plot point of this stupid fucking movie. But in honor of Tim, I will attempt to fully articulate why no one should like it - and why we must, as a society, reckon with what it has done to us.

Earth is dying of dust. Corn is apparently the last surviving crop, yet everyone is showering regularly. Fascinating. The movie should have been called Agricultural Vibes and Daddy Issues.

The world’s population is at risk, so naturally Matthew McConaughey’s character thinks, “How can I make this crisis about myself while emotionally devastating my children?”

He used to go to space recreationally, apparently. So when humanity is on the brink, they’re like, “Matthew McConaughey, can you grab Anne Hathaway and head back up there?”

And he’s like, “Absolutely. My children will understand. Or they won’t. I will be in space blissfully unaware of the trauma I am causing.”

One of his children is named Murph. This is a key point that will come back later in a very confusing manner that will make you yet again reassess everything you thought made sense, which was like 2% of the movie.

Throughout all of this, the soundtrack is just “BWAAAAANNNNNGGGGGG,” as if the organ itself is also confused.

Now we’ve moved onto how the dust was really messy and we’re doing weird documentary style interviews with the people who remember the messiness. 

I'm confused by the presence of pancakes at breakfast because I was under the impression that corn was our final agricultural achievement.

Murph is always yapping that there’s a ghost in the house. She is a child living through planetary collapse, but yes, let’s diagnose her with hysteria instead. That feels responsible.

Also they have coffee? How?

Timothy Chalamet appears briefly as “Boy in Sweatshirt.”

Murph is named after Murphy’s Law, meaning she has grown up believing her existence is a cautionary principle.

Matthew McConaughey makes absolutely no helpful effort to clarify this.

Also her mom is dead.

Now Matthew McConaughey is in a business meeting about farming.

We learn the Apollo missions were faked (??), which deeply upsets him because he is professionally committed to the concept that space is real.

We are again treated to a sweeping, golden shot of a thriving cornfield. Zero dust. Not a particulate in sight.

I was told Earth was dying.

The corn appears moisturized.

The ghost is now aggressively reorganizing the library in Matthew McConaughey’s house. Books are flying everywhere. Murph, who has been medically classified as “unstable” for noticing obvious gravitational anomalies, is blamed.

Foreshadowing: she did not simply wake up and decide to redecorate via poltergeist.

For reasons I cannot emotionally process, the casting director placed John Lithgow - one of my favorite actors - into this film as Matthew McConaughey’s father.

This is an act of violence against me personally.

I will never forgive them.

Ooookay. Now the party starts.

Dust is attacking them in a barn, so they bravely deploy decorative masks from around their necks and lightly gesture toward respiratory protection.

Moments later, this aggressively well-groomed family sits down to drink water and eat bread. In the dust apocalypse. The hydration levels remain impressive.

Matthew McConaughey finally realizes Murph is not psychotic. The “ghost” has been communicating NASA coordinates through strategic book violence. As ghosts often do.

His truck is buried in dust.

He looks freshly conditioned.

Fucking Murph just has to go to the coordinates herself, because apparently “don’t” is a suggestion, not a rule. Classic Murphy’s Law in action.

And now, behold the film’s unsung hero: the rotating ATM robot. Misused, misunderstood, and tragically never allowed to fulfill its destiny.

And, oh joy, Anne Hathaway shows up. She’s here. She exists. And yes, she’s as grating as advertised.

Goddamnit, they got Michael Caine. Of course they did. Is nothing sacred? Are we just raiding the British National Treasure Vault and tossing legends into a cornfield?

Meanwhile, everyone in this secret NASA basement is acting normal but pleased with themselves because a remote control opened some aggressively wood-paneled doors. Behind which: a fully assembled spaceship that no one heard being built. Not one intern said, “Hey, what’s that constant welding noise directly behind the conference room?”

And there he is. National treasure Michael Caine, lowering himself gently into the dust bowl to ask Matthew McConaughey to drive his new space boat. Alongside Short-Haired Anne Hathaway, who is wearing Black, because Space.

Famously this is the first time Matthew McConaughey goes, “Wait. I have children.”

And Michael Caine is like, “Dust waits for no man, Cooper.”

Now we’ve transitioned into a PowerPoint presentation called So You’ve Just Discovered Saturn.

Slide one: Saturn is a planet.

Slide two: It continues to be a planet.

We are all growing and learning in real-time.

And oh look, the game manager from The Hunger Games has arrived to explain that we have several planets to go take a quick peek at, as if we’re browsing Airbnb but for humanity’s extinction backup plan.

Anne Hathaway cannot simply discuss astrophysics. No. To speak about space she must don The Lab Coat. Because Science™ requires visual confirmation that a woman knows things. The coat goes on. Authority achieved. Sanity restored.

Murph is understandably distraught. Her father is leaving on a space mission that will almost certainly kill him, and her own life is threatened by the encroaching dust. He gives her a watch so she can measure the minutes he is gone, and silently tally how dead he probably is.

Space ghost is basically screaming “fuck you, don’t go!” via falling library books. Matthew McConaughey is like, “I GOTTA GO TO SPACE, SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND!”

He makes a face that looks like a stroke, but I’m 99% sure it’s just pure unhinged joy at finally escaping parenting and Earth at the same time.

Someone cracks a joke about having “a lot of slaves” for their robot colony. One of the astronauts is Black. Timing: zero out of ten.. Did the movie ever care? Nope. Are we cursed to remember it forever? Absolutely.

Sexy space Anne Hathaway is basically like, “if you’re game, I am,” and Matthew McConaughey is like, “sorry, I have a girlfriend and she’s literally Space.”

At this point in my review, you’re probably thinking, “It would have taken less time to read War and Peace.” I am here to tell you: I have read War and Peace. It’s a difficult book, but I ultimately learned something from it. That is not the case with Interstellar. This movie deserves a review long enough to fully catalog how stupid it is. And buckle up, because we’re just getting started - we have officially reached Matthew McConaughey’s girlfriend: space.

Known sweatshirt wearer Timothy Chalamet is back to send Matthew McConaughey sad videos from dust Earth. Murph will not speak to Matthew. This makes him sad. Luckily, he has unnamed Black man to comfort him.

There’s so much spinning in space in this movie. At some point, they must have realized we get it - they’re in a spaceship… in space.

They enter a wormhole, which causes Sexy Space Anne Hathaway to develop feelings because her fingers are getting all wonky. They’ve made it to some part of space we were already trying to get to. Space talk, space talk, space talk.

One hour on this planet equals seven years on Earth, and yes, that’s relativity, folks. I cannot believe anyone was okay with someone being named Dr. Mann, but I digress.

I have completely lost track of what’s happening, but Matthew McConaughey is furiously drawing circles on a whiteboard. Unnamed Black man must stay on the spaceship and age forever while the rest of them gallivant across the planet.

A note from my husband: “I think this movie is what happens inside the brain of a schizophrenic man standing next to an ATM.”

I have to be honest: I gave this movie a chance, despite my total disinterest in space. When they deploy to this planet, my cautious optimism erupted into an undeniable, all-consuming rage—a rage I have nursed since the first viewing. I was comforted by Tim’s rage because we all need someone to say: “I saw that part too. It was so fucking stupid.”

To be continued…