On Interstellar

Interstellar: a 2014 film. Phenomenal. Exposing (to me in many ways) what great writing looks like. A movie is not film first. It is first written. Then, cast into the molds of actors and actresses. The molds shape the film, which is edited and documented into one final cut. Christopher Nolan is known for great film-making, breaking unbreakable boundaries.

Watching it twice in a row - for two separate purposes - brought facets of information translatable to writing. In one's personal experience the stage is the mind, the cast one's own making, and the dialog uttered different from each beat to the next. The mind is not simple; never underestimate a reader.

First is recording that thought which is built and expanded on throughout Interstellar: the Question. All masterpieces answer Questions; questions resting at the heart of every story, driving forces. To know the Question, the Stakes must be brought to light. Within thirty seconds - realized or not - the stakes are established in Interstellar. This goes as well for the Hunger Games. Just as Hunger Games is a page turner, Interstellar is a seat edger. The Stakes flesh the Question: (humanity is forced to give up two children from each district, and Katniss must volunteer; what is Katniss willing to do to return alive to Prim and Gale?) the earth is failing humanity, and Cooper must leave Merph; what is Cooper willing to do to get back to Merph?

The Question will never be as general as: how will John Doe save his city? The Question is not about the setting; the Question is about the connection between two characters.

The connection in this case is love. Often, the connection between the protagonist and the one in their Question is love because love is transcendant. Love is without bounds of time, space, or gravity; Interstellar shows us that, a showcase of their Question. How far can love go?

The greatest showcase happens in dialog at the end of Interstellar:

'Merph says, "I knew you'd come back, but they didn't believe me...no they didn't believe me." Cooper looks to her, a kindle of love sparkling his eyes, and asks, "How did you know?" Merph holds Cooper's hand and brings her other hand over their union. "Because my dad promised me."'

With a Question beginning, the Answer subsists the rest of the movie. From a left-brain stand point the setting must serve the function of the Question. Interstellar uses seperation to show how love connects humans. Each moment you can tell was weighed for its worth in Interstellar, and still the movie is two and a half hours in length. Length is never the point in achieving for a masterpiece. Weight; feeling; echoes; memory; touch; experience: the point.

What unites the experience? What keeps the experience on pace? What is necessary?

I fear most would call necessary: excessive editing. Yes, editing is divine while first drafts are garbage, but that does not exclude the first draft from illustrating the point. Editing is there to both trim fat and add muscle. Not enough writers think like Jerry Jenkins, who keeps telling people in his YouTube videos, blog posts, and newsletters: 'Readers First. Readers remember what moves them.' This means that having everything out in the open will not be remembered by the reader. The reader remembers happiness, pain, peril, realization, hopelessness, fear, and catharsis.

Do you choose words carefully? Do you write to write, or are you writing for emotion? Emotion gets the point across. Emotion is universal.

The second go at watching, I watched not. I listened.

Dialog is the engine of an experience. It is the root of all communication, silent or vocal. Dialog often says more than is said, just like a masterpiece should be: 10% seen, 90% hidden; like writing an iceberg. Words are spoken, but the Words echo in the reader's mind; the Words that mean more.

Dialog happens in a connection. Connections have two sides; often, each side has a predetermined assumption of the other side.

Stakes can be established by dialog: Interstellar begins with a documentary made in future with elders talking of growing up in the Dust and Blight.

On two occasions, the most emotional conversations in the rising action foreshadowed the emotional climax. Most dialog was logical: used to move the story forward and jargon used on day to day bases. No one remembers that; that dialog is part of the story, fabric dialog. Dialog with Words foreshadows emotion.

Humor does not have to come from a humorous character. Humor comes from all: everyone has a sense and grasp of it. There is never a need for a comedic relief, but there is always need for comedic relief. Humor eases pain; it's how the greatest connections end - sacrificed friendships.

Dialog is essential. Bodily, regular, or Wordy dialog. What will the reader remember? What moves them.

That doesn't imply that Words dialog is all that you should have. Dialog with Words is when you can feel the breaths between each beat of the conversation. You sense the pauses, you know the essence, the context, the goals of the person talking and how it's coming to light in what they say. People are transparent between those breaths. Breath is between the tension of what the response will be, and it is comprehended as space. It's why the Great Gatsby's conversations are so memorable: the breaths, the beats, the tension is a flowing gown of silk: shifting and tugging and sagging with each breath and withdrawal of the wind.

All this I wish to begin in my own writing habits. That I would be more intentional, have emotional and physical climaxes, and show more action through dialog than ever before; to ask the Question before I roost to write. To become a maker of masterpieces. To be a Faulkner, a Nolan, a Fitzgerald. Writing is not found within. Writing is built like a tower: brick by brick. Masterpiece is an object well within all's range. It just takes bricks, mortar, and faith in writing.