Interstellar (2014)

I will be the first to admit that I am a creature of comfort who doesn't understand fashion, let alone haute couture. But that doesn’t mean I did not like The Devil Wears Prada when it first came out, back in 2006. I even bought and read the book, despite it being about a world I had and still have zero interest in.

Like everyone else who liked the original and understood its lasting popularity throughout the years, I was eager to see the sequel. Even if, to be completely honest, I didn't see why it needed one. The first movie gave everyone their perfect "happily ever after": Miranda Priestly remained the iconic, untouchable editor-in-chief of Runway, Andy Sachs landed her dream job as a serious journalist, and Emily finally secured her place as Miranda's assistant.

I was floored by Oppenheimer.  I left the theater blown away (no pun intended) by what I had just witnessed. The film never felt too long nor boring. Despite not understanding practically pages of dialogue at a time, the movie retained an undeniable gravity (again, no pun intended) and suspense.

I’ve yet to analyze my experience piece by piece because I thought it would ruin the effect. I’ve been surfing this wave of contentment for days without studying the ‘why’ of it all.

What made it great? A few things: the scale, the acting, the technical wizardry involving sound and editing, and a true understanding of an elusive historical figure that starts on the page.  

This wasn’t some sci-fi epic like Interstellar, nor did it have the grit and pedigree of the war film, Dunkirk.  This movie was more subtle. It functions somewhat as a biopic. Starting with his early academic years, Oppenheimer sticks to the story of Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and we don’t venture far from him over the course of 3 hours. The sound, realistic visual effects, and editing are all impressively concentrated on the internal struggles of one man, the “founder of the atomic bomb.”