Is Othello about the greatness of mankind, while Interstellar explores the insignificance of humanity?
What a peculiar comment.
Yet Christopher, instead of reacting with anger, was filled with confusion due to Renly's phrasing. The distinction Renly made was as follows: humans are humble before nature, and yet, in defying nature, humans exhibit greatness—this is Othello; on the other hand, human beings are tiny in the grand scope of time, and those who attempt to challenge time are powerless—this is Interstellar.
Could it be that the theme of Interstellar is, in fact, grander and more profound than Othello?
Christopher pondered this carefully, but Renly suddenly halted, signaling that his thoughts were far from complete. Christopher's curiosity and anticipation couldn't be contained, and he hurriedly asked, "And then what?"
In terms of poise and wit, Christopher found himself no match for Renly's seasoned demeanor.
Renly, without a trace of arrogance, allowed a moment of quiet before answering, shifting his focus back to the subject matter at hand. "But," he continued calmly, "it is precisely because of the vastness and magnificence of time that human nature, warmth, and eternity are reflected. Even though death may separate us, and time and space form insurmountable divides, the bonds of human emotion remain unbroken."
In the latter part of Interstellar, Cooper finds himself trapped in a five-dimensional space-time hypercube.
According to Einstein's theory of relativity, revisiting the past is impossible. Even if you access higher-dimensional space-time, you cannot observe the past directly, let alone alter it. Yet, in the film, the narrative bends the laws of physics: through gravitational waves, one can influence the past, subtly altering history.
As Cooper becomes immersed in the five-dimensional space, he perceives time as a tangible, linear entity—each moment, from past to future, laid bare before him. He begins to manipulate gravitational waves, influencing pivotal moments of the past.
At a certain point, Cooper realizes that he is caught in an eternal loop, doomed to never return home. This realization triggers panic, particularly the fear that he will fail to fulfill his promise to his daughter.
When Cooper encounters his younger daughter, Murphy, through this five-dimensional window, he is still on Earth, and Murphy and Tom are by his side. Desperate, Cooper attempts to communicate with Murphy by shaking the bookshelf using gravitational waves, sending a coded message to warn her to stay on Earth and not join the irreversible mission.
But his efforts fail.
If viewed through the first dimension, Cooper's unwavering belief in returning home overcomes all obstacles. In this sense, it mirrors Othello, a grand human saga. The scope extends from the seas to the cosmos, and the story's atmosphere grows ever more majestic.
From the second dimension, however, even though Cooper cannot return home, Murphy holds firm in her belief in her father. Their bond transcends time and space, an unbreakable connection that cannot be severed. This enduring and unshakable bond represents the core mystery of human existence.
To Renly, even when interpreted through the first dimension, Interstellar is already a grand narrative. But limiting the interpretation to just that dimension misses the deeper philosophical intent the Nolan brothers infused into the script.
Emotion vs. Time: Which is more important?
The answer in the first dimension is emotion. This emotional interpretation of human experience reflects a deep, rich, and complex web of connections—love, sorrow, joy, and the eternal ties that have been the subject of countless masterpieces, shaping the very foundation of human society.
The second dimension, however, presents a rational view of human nature. Here, human beings cannot conquer time, and the constraints of time and space are insurmountable. However, human emotions—particularly love—can transcend these limitations. In fact, the passage of time only serves to enhance the richness of human connection.
From a philosophical standpoint, the second dimension offers greater depth, building upon the emotional layer of the first dimension. It introduces the concept of "Looking at a mountain is not a mountain," and eventually returns to "Looking at a mountain is a mountain." This cyclical return invites more philosophical interpretations.
Though the fundamental way the film is shot remains unchanged from a director's perspective, actors and writers may perceive subtle shifts in the depth of understanding required.
Renly believes that the Nolan brothers created a script for Interstellar with a core that is indeed grand, but the film's lack of philosophical depth renders its ideas somewhat simplistic. The presentation feels almost magical, which is not necessarily bad—but it falls short of its full potential.
Great directors such as Ingmar Bergman, Federico Fellini, and Andrei Tarkovsky are celebrated not simply for their philosophical exploration, but for their ability to communicate these ideas through visual storytelling. They use the camera to present dreams, hallucinations, and real scenes without dialogue—infusing their work with spiritual and emotional depth.
If anyone is curious about the distinction between screenwriters and directors, the work of these filmmakers provides the answer. The screenwriter tells the story; the director builds the world. As one critic put it, Ingmar Bergman's lenses were "divine"—they captured something beyond words, even beyond what the actors or screenwriters could convey.
In Christopher Nolan's Interstellar, the visuals showcase the profound meaning of the first dimension, but they don't expand the film's exploration of time and emotion as deeply as they could.
This is not to criticize Nolan—creating a film that embodies the ideological depth of the first dimension is a remarkable achievement. Furthermore, this approach makes the film more accessible to the general audience, balancing commercial appeal with artistic ambition. After all, not everyone seeks to probe the depths of human spirituality and philosophy. Nolan has garnered praise for finding this balance, earning recognition as one of the greatest directors of the past two decades, following in the footsteps of Steven Spielberg and James Cameron.
However, Renly's perspective comes from a philosophical background. Having been steeped in philosophy, literature, and art, he seeks deeper exploration. Interstellar presents ample room for such exploration, and thus he cannot resist engaging in it.
For example, 2001: A Space Odyssey, often regarded as the pinnacle of space cinema, succeeds not simply by telling a story but by addressing vast themes of human nature, divinity, and the unknown, all within the infinite expanse of the cosmos. This philosophical depth is what sets Stanley Kubrick's film apart. Nolan himself has expressed reverence for Kubrick, even overseeing the 2018 restoration of 2001: A Space Odyssey for its screening at the Cannes Film Festival.
In Renly's debate with Christopher, as one of the screenwriters, Nolan stood his ground, asserting that the script he and Jonathan had created sufficiently conveyed the film's core themes. Delving deeper into philosophical speculation, he argued, would risk unbalancing the film and making it overly esoteric for commercial audiences.
Renly, however, disagreed, arguing that a few well-placed visual metaphors and contemplative moments could elevate the film's philosophical discourse, giving viewers more space for reflection. He firmly believed that a balance between accessibility and depth could be achieved, allowing the audience to engage more fully with the speculative ideas at the heart of Interstellar.
In the midst of their debate, Renly made a pointed comparison:
"The reason The Dark Knight became a classic is because of its profound exploration of justice and evil. Even the Joker, despite his chaotic actions, is not entirely without justification—his existence poses a philosophical challenge. It's that kind of intellectual depth that elevates the film. Inception and The Dark Knight Rises are great films, but they're only about 80% of what they could be. They present a more linear way of thinking."