Movies have a meaningful role in my life. They can offer dazzling visuals, thrilling action sequences to enjoy, or intricate plots that challenge me to think. Compared to books, movies carry a certain ambiguity, since images don’t express ideas as precisely as words. That ambiguity makes them more open to interpretation, and many masterpieces reveal layers of meaning. By developing my own way of understanding films and learning from how others interpret them, I see things from different perspectives and becoming more open-minded.

After I finish a movie, analyzing is my favorite part. I love trying to break down why certain scenes worked, what philosophies were hidden underneath, and how the film challenges the way I see the world. These are 4 of my notable films and some of my thoughts about them.

Christopher Nolan’s ‘Interstellar’ is a beautiful story about human endeavor and their will against all odds. Every time I close my eyes and listen to ‘No time for cautions’, I can clearly picture Cooper trying to do the impossible–docking the spacecraft at a frantically spinning station. I wonder how he could stay focused while struggling in the face of such difficulties. I admire the film as a portrait of the indomitable human spirit and our resilience. 

Moreover, through Interstellar I formed a small philosophy of my own. I had always heard Interstellar described as a great tale of fatherly love, yet I didn’t feel that much when I watched it. At first, I was confused; was I coldhearted, or simply unthoughtful? Later, I heard Cillian Murphy say that seeing Interstellar as a parent “broke his heart.” That struck me: Perhaps resonance depends on experience. I realized we only truly feel what connects closely to our own lives. Since I am not a father, that part of the story did not speak to me as strongly.

Interstellar also struck me as a study of human psychology. Every character, whether ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, was motivated by reasons I could understand. Even when their choices were wrong, I found myself sympathizing with, even pitying, them. To me, Dr. Mann is not simply hateful; he is a man broken by isolation and fear. Seeing characters this way showed me that behind every action lies a human struggle, and that awareness can lead to empathy.

The cornfield chase scene is a memorable scene for me too. The drone is an echo from a glorious past, when our engineering and resources were abundant. The ‘Cornfield chase’ piece playing, creates me a feeling of regret, nostalgia, like a lost civilization.

‘The pianist’ depicted the realities of wars (on par with many other great films). However, this time blended with racism. It’s not just chaos, but also systematic dehumanization. The silent brutality, squeezing social policy in order to completely dehumanize a race is a kind of horror that is to me as significant as the horror from immediate bombs and fires.

The piano pieces, especially Nocturne in C sharp minor, are sentimental, and they are woven into the film seamlessly, further pushing the sadness, eerie, death,… in the film.

I was really moved by the pianist Władysław Szpilman. The resilience, the will, the hope he had even after such catastrophic events. At the end, he played again. Like a new chapter, ready to move on but never forget.

‘The grey’ depicts the harsh nature and our helpless situation outside the wilderness.

The director could have made the film have a happy ending whenever they wanted: have the crew come across human settlements, meet some lumberjacks,… and the integrity and reasonableness of the film still holds. But they make the crew face all kinds of hardship up until the end. The last man standing even walked right into a wolf pack lair. I’m very impressed by that decision of the director. As if they paid no attention to what the audience wants, and just try to depict plain reality. ‘Everything can happen. You may meet other humans and be saved or you may end up in a wolf’s lair. The chances are equal’. The result is definitely not what anyone anticipated. That, to me, made this film a good one.

The film is also a very accurate depiction of human personalities. Some gave up when they first knew the weight of the situation, some gave up after some time of struggling, some didn’t give up at all. I admired the resilience, the will to fight against all odds. When the last man, John Ottway, walked into the lair, he didn’t say it was unfair for him, didn’t give up and let it go. He just picks up his fists and fights for a way out, even if he knows chances are infinitesimally small.

I love Before Sunrise and the whole trilogy. The way Céline and Jesse accompany each other, share their thoughts, or simply walk together feels natural and real. They seem aware and insightful, but uncertain in a way that makes them human. What resonates with me most is how they don’t have everything figured out but are willing to discuss their thoughts.

Also, these films broadened my view of cinema. I was so hooked on the trilogy even though it didn’t have dramatic tropes, twisted plots, magnificent scenery or transcendental morals. It just ‘happened’ in life, like a flow, and it completely demolished my old view of what makes a movie great. It showed me that  there’s as much cinema in the subtle, quiet rhythms of everyday life as in the spectacle, breadth-taking scenes.