INTERSTELLAR: Why I hate it
Why do I hate Interstellar -- besides the fact
that Matthew McConaughey makes my skin crawl ? (All the male actors these days are pastel shadows of the
twentieth century giants of Hollywood.
Another aspect of the same problem).
I’ll tell you why, in more detail than you would find comfortable.
Interstellar is a paean to the managerial
incompetence that has become an industrial standard across the modern
world.
Background.
The selective assassination of the Kennedys, MLK, MalcomX and uncounted
progressive leaders worldwide at the hands of Communist and Capitalist Cold War
psychopaths (practically interchangeable), was followed by that demento Ronald
Reagan and his institutionalization of homelessness in the richest country in
human history, and terminally worsened by 9/11 and the feeding frenzy of
institutional stupidity ever since. One
political party has taken institutional stupidity to the level of genius; another, the
Independents, can’t decide whether that is always good policy or not; the third
gets paid royally to look the other way.
There can be no more stupid people than panic-mongered stupid people.
Regardless of the field of endeavor or
professional credentials, it has become professional suicide to advocate or
practice competent, wise or even honest management. Everyone in power today is by definition and peer-constraint
corrupt, incompetent, dumbed-down, know-nothing, and morally compromised. Not only that, but they’re PROUD of the
uniformity of their shit. No other
alternative is permitted, and no other alternative is portrayed across the
corporate media. Good management has
become taboo. And you love that message,
because, aw, it’s got Dad and daughter feel-good moments, culminated by the ultimate parental abandonment. Wake up!
Interstellar should have been called
Stellar-to-Black Hole – where is the local sun shining so cinematically over
all these exotic planets, in all the over-elaborate but kindergarten
explanations and diagrams? Interstellar is actually a succession of
unacknowledged, privilege-rewarded managerial and scientific face-plants.
An Indian drone (Native American? South Asian?
Equally absurd and off-topic alternatives) inspects Mid-Western corn
crops? Why? Don’t they have better things to waste their money on? There is no Marine Corps any longer? And that doesn’t rate another line of
explanation? How? That would have made a LOT more interesting
movie.
The science luminary’s calculations are based
on his failure (undetected by the rest of the academic world) and his lies
about it. NASA cannot keep track of its
best astronaut who lives fifty miles down the road. That astronaut becomes a farmer: a high-prestige job he
hates. Reports back from the first wave
of explorers are so poorly analyzed that a continuous loop message lasting less
than five minutes is mistaken for years of consecutive transmissions. Explorers cannot be dispatched alone for
months and years on end because healthy human beings are obligate social
animals wired to go crazy under such stresses.
Mythomaniac clichés about heroics and cowardice are as irrelevant in this
instance as everything else in this movie.
Both plan A & B consign the entire world population to a slow and
painful death; only a privileged elite may benefit (as usual). Our collective ass is pulled out of this
self-managed bonfire of the vanities by some disembodied , future tense deus
ex machina because no-one in real-time could problem-solve their way out of
a wet paper bag. Much like the modern
version of The Day the Earth Stood Still.
Self-worshiping management incompetence all around.
All this crap is accepted as normal, promoted
as acceptable, praised as customary. In
truth, none of it is any of those things.
That includes this basically empty movie hyped to the sky by the same
overpaid, analytically challenged and cosmically-self-satisfied bunch of
mediocrity junkies.
Got it, now?
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