Leave it to Matthew McConaughey to capture a film's greatest quality in a red carpet sound bite. Speaking at the Los Angeles premiere of Interstellar last week, he said: "Everybody I've talked to - and I've talked to hundreds - take something different from it that sticks in their craw for days afterwards."
How right he is, and if you ever ran into the Texan on your own particular adventure in space and time (stranger things have happened . . . ) you'd give him yet another take on this film's message which would be just as valid, interesting and heartfelt as the kid of 12 or the boffin who sat next to you in the cinema. Chances are you might also tell him that in his role as everyman Cooper he's done some of his best work as an actor - in dusty fields and far beyond.
On an earth where almost all crops have failed, widower Cooper is a member of what's described as the "caretaker generation" - a former NASA pilot who never had the opportunity to go on a full mission before disaster struck and who now exists as a corn farmer. Cooper has two kids, a sense of something unfinished and a recurring dream. In his home, things have started going bump in the night - and the day, too. Soon his opportunity to reconcile past, present and future will be revealed.
If ever a film called for both open mind and heart it's this one - making you yearn for those days when you knew much less about new movies, and what it means to be alive. In terms of edge-of-the-seat excitement, Interstellar is closer to Contact than the Caped Crusader but it is, without doubt, the most moving film Christopher Nolan has made. For all the beautiful special effects and production design, it's the simple human story here that has the most impact. You'll apply it to the world you left outside in the foyer in a way that's special to you.
At close to three hours, Interstellar is, however, a much longer film than it needed to be - you're almost an hour in before the first real neck-crane moment arrives - and what it says about our resilience and spirit last year's Gravity said far more succinctly. Ironically, given the running time, the amount of exposition and Nolan's determination to leave no one behind, the ending feels rushed and denies the audience the catharsis and closure they deserve.
You may disagree and decide it's your film of the year. Either way, you'll come back down to earth feeling something more about the fantastic voyage you're on yourself. Sure, you know what they say about Murphy's Law . . .