The first observation anyone can make about Interstellar is that its tempos are excruciatingly slow. Even in the rare moments of excitement and action, Zimmer restrains the pace of the score and simply elevates its volume. Coupled with the tempo issue is the lack of adjustment to meter. The music plods along at the same general pace without maneuvering around to a different rhythmic formation on any regular basis. The development of each major cue follows the same route as well, starting softly and adding volume and bass depth on the march to a crescendo that typically falls off abruptly. This pattern is repeated over and over again with the same thematic structures, partly a result of Zimmer's tendency to remix the same idea for multiple, marginally unique presentations. Sometimes, it's subtle, as in "Day One," whereas in other cues, it overwhelms, as in "Coward." Whether or not this repeated device is influenced by Steven Price's popular score for Gravity remains an interesting debate. So you have a slow, repetitive score that accesses the same set of rhythmic structures and applies volume to them in identical ways in most cues. What about the themes? Zimmer does indeed provide several of them in Interstellar, including identities for the family relations, the expanse of space, and the larger human journey. For the family relations, the composer applies the piano most frequently, but even here the rendering of a melody is so slow and sparse that it fails to connect. Michael Giacchino has a history of yielding much more out of the instrument in the solo environment, and neither can touch Williams' mastery in that area. As in Man of Steel, Zimmer exposes his weakness when utilizing the piano in such a way as to truly involve the listener. Beyond the humanity and exploration ideas, the family melody proves to be the score's main theme and services the father/daughter relationship; it is extremely slow to develop, very simplistic, and oddly reminiscent of James Horner's The Land Before Time. These themes are not only wanting for better progressions, but they lack secondary phrases of any significance, once again exacerbating the tiring and repetitive nature of the score. To hear the main theme over and over and over again in "Stay" may function for some listeners, but Zimmer only boosts the theme's volume and depth in its repeated statements rather than taking the idea in any meaningful direction. The simplicity is remarkably transparent. Cues largely stripped of the thematic material and instead emphasizing purely rhythmic character aren't much better developed, with "The Wormhole" a good example of a cue that serves up a generic crescendo over 90 seconds that relies solely on the resonance of texture.

Some listeners may commend Zimmer for addressing the concept of time and space through sound effects integrated into the score for Interstellar, and while the use of wind and water is a nice touch at times, the overt tapping and clicking of higher range effects for time itself in a cue like "Mountains" is no less a transparent or simplistic application than the purely instrumental counterparts. Of more importance, once again, is the decision by Nolan and Zimmer to approach this project's music before the shooting even began. It's been said many times in the Zimmer score reviews at Filmtracks and it needs repeated: you cannot fully and properly tailor a score to a film without having seen at least its rough edits. Without that context, the composer is left to write a concept album rather than a film score. And that's what Interstellar really is... another album of Zimmer ideas vaguely inspired by the general concepts of family and space. No matter what album presentation you get for this score (and there are many, unfortunately), you hear self-contained ideas without synchronization points, conceptual counterpoint references, or meter changes to denote any kind of shift in action or realization on screen. As such, this score flies blind throughout the film, relying upon the editors to dial it in appropriately. On album, Interstellar sounds like any other concept album you hear from all those artists that put out general instrumental compilations hoping they will be picked up for placement in movie trailers. Rather than develop the narrative over the course of the album, which is impossible because of Zimmer's methodology, you have development only within each cue, thus leading to these inevitable crescendos over and over again. What little manipulation of theme that exists is tied to basic logic rather than anything specific to the story; in other words, the composer realizes he needs a solo piano version of the main theme, a wishy-washy string version, and a fully glorious organ rendition simply to cover all the expected bases. Thus, the process of storytelling in this score is significantly stunted. Finally, you have issues of volume and instrumental presence in the mix that cause problems in Interstellar. On the first part, the loud portions are overbearing in relation to the soft portions, with little integration of the two halves. Either this score bubbles along in the background or it totally consumes the soundscape, the median existing only in the middle of the long crescendos. The huge woodwind section intentionally produces ambient sound effects rather than any truly complex representation of technology. Why not use a synthesizer rather than asking them (and the occasional voices) to produce otherworldly noises that are held so far back in the mix that they are indistinguishable?

One of the most artful counterarguments to this review will come from Vangelis enthusiasts who know very well that there have been multiple simplistic, album-first kinds of hybrid Vangelis scores that have been nominated for awards at Filmtracks. And that's a good point, until you realize that Zimmer never has been and never will be Vangelis. Their purposes are completely different. If Zimmer's results are starting to sound like those of Vangelis because of his methodology, it's not necessarily by intent. The reason Vangelis excels is because he enunciates his simple structures with harmonic resonance so overwhelmingly tonal and magnificent that you can't help but admire the resulting bravado. Zimmer doesn't offer much of that kind of glorious sound to Interstellar, but when he does, as in the outstanding conclusion of "Coward" and the brass-aided interior of "Detach," you do hear Vangelis being channeled to a degree. There is little doubt that these moments of unrestrained grandeur in the score are its selling points, especially in context, and you have to love how Zimmer does maintain the volume when he finally gets there during these highlights. The piano work specifically needs praised in these parts. But without more such moments, this score is left to languish at agonizingly slow speeds without the depth of sound and harmonic complexity in its majority to keep some listeners entertained. The organ, for all its advertised presence in this score, is not always an effective tool of resonance. No better an example is "S.T.A.Y.," in which its exploration is neither resounding nor intensely personal, an honestly bizarre surprise given the capability of the instrument. At the end of the day, Zimmer's trademark has become the droning of a bass note on key, and it is that persistent technique in Interstellar that serves as the greatest clue to Zimmer's continued stagnation despite all the hoopla about innovation in this work. Sometimes the droning is barely noticeable, but at other times the organ lets it boom for minutes at a time. There are better ways to engage an audience and denote gravity than the droning bass note on key. Themes can indeed have secondary phrases. Progressions don't all have to recall 1980's power ballads. Movies can be scored to suit after shooting. Counterpoint can enhance conflict or resolution. Meters or key really can change when a scene transitions to a new location. All of these techniques are known to work, and yet they are largely absent in Interstellar. So if you seek the technical reason why this scores sounds juvenile to some listeners, despite all the efforts to innovate by Zimmer, look no further than the composer's attempts to rewrite the basic rules of film score composition. Taking risks is good, but you won't always connect.

There is no joy in where this review of Interstellar must go next. Zimmer has enough control over the album releases of his music to prevent such marketing shenanigans from happening, but he repeatedly allows labels to screw over consumers with fragmented, multiple album releases of his work and thus encourage piracy. He had a direct hand in these decisions in the case of Interstellar, and the overall rating for this score must be deducted as a result. Until 2020, an avid collector needed to seek out multiples of four sources, if not all four, to achieve a full presentation of the work. In official albums, you have the "Star Wheel Constellation Chart Digipak" featuring 16 tracks, the "Digital Deluxe Album," which offers 24 tracks, and the fullest "Illuminated Star Projection Edition" of 29 tracks that debuted at $40 after the others and proved initially hard to obtain. Then there was the lone "Day One Dark" remix track that was featured only as a bonus download from a movie ticket. Finally, Paramount released 33 tracks in an online streaming awards promo. There are a couple of ways of looking at this mess. First, those seeking a lossless version could pick up the 2-CD "Illuminated Star Projection Edition" product. But why waste the money on that if you already have the original CD (digipak) version? The additional music is mostly a series of remixes of the music you already heard on the shorter album; Zimmer only covers so much ground in this score before having to repeat himself with different mixes. The problem is that the unique material on the 2-CD set truly represents some of the best presentations available for this score. Both "Murph" and "Tick-Tock" are absolute must-haves for enthusiasts of this score, the latter's full choir begging for Vangelis comparisons. And then there's the film version of "No Time for Caution" that is clearly the best rendition of that idea but not initially available on album. Finally, the fuller albums include recitations of the "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" poem that figured prominently in the film. However, for whatever nonsensical reason, these renditions are by a range of the film's actors rather than Michael Caine himself, as heard in context, a tremendous disappointment. In 2020, WaterTower finally merged all this music into one "Expanded Edition," a long overdue 2-CD set that otherwise offers nothing new. When labels sucker money from fans by withholding some of the best renditions from the recordings for intended later editions, you have to deduct from ratings for that transgression. Zimmer and his ardent enthusiasts can talk about innovation until they are blue in the face, but the composer and the labels distributing his music are doing little more than exacerbating the plague of piracy that prevails online.   @Amazon.com: CD or Download