On the eve of watching Oppenheimer, I want to pay tribute to Interstellar

No cinema for months, and this weekend twice in a row: we watched Barbie last night and will see Oppenheimer tonight.

I liked Barbie. My eleven-year-old daughter seemed stunned when I said I wanted to see Barbie. Growing up with three brothers, she often hears negative commentary about the “girly” stuff. I introduced everyone in my family to Taylor Swift a few years because I adored her Folklore album, but my sons, especially the two teenagers, struggle to overcome gender stereotypes. Taylor Swift’s audience is comprised exclusively of teenage girls, they tell me. I don’t give two shits about who listens to Taylor Swift, I reply. If I hear quality pop music, I appreciate quality pop music, period. I wish I could take my daughter to see Taylor live — she’s playing in California in the coming weeks, but the tickets are too damn expensive!

I didn’t see Barbie because I wanted to please my daughter. I love all things pop culture, and Barbie seemed to encapsulate “pop culture.” I enjoyed the movie last night. The expression “hot mess” (borrowing from the Killers!) comes to mind when I try to describe it. Colorful and messy in a good way.

Tonight we are all going to see Oppenheimer.

This brings me to Interstellar, with Chris Nolan being the obvious connection.

I rewatched the movie last week. We purchased on Apple TV some years ago, rightly so — you want to have this movie in your library.