Movies Like Interstellar That Are Definitely Worth Watching

"Interstellar" is the closest thing to a classic science fiction movie that Christopher Nolan' has made so far, blending hard sci-fi tropes with an earnest exploration of humanity's drive to survive. For science fiction fans, it's instantly familiar stuff. Nolan's storytelling doesn't always land as powerfully as the movie's visual effects, but "Interstellar" still works as a thoughtful, understated love-letter to the stories that built the science fiction genre.

Stripped to its basics, "Interstellar" spins a time-tangled tale about how love intermingles with science to save humanity. Joseph Cooper (Matthew McConaughey) sacrifices himself to the eldritch currents of space and time in a last-ditch effort to find a method by which humanity can leave the climate-ravaged Earth and start over. In the end, "Interstellar" is not about what Cooper does to save the world, but what his love and desperation inspires. Cooper eventually closes the time loop he's caught within, leaving his daughter to finish what he started.

It's heady stuff, and Nolan's awkwardness when it comes to believable human emotion occasionally makes the plot stumble. But any weaknesses in "Interstellar" are shored up by its astounding visual effects and its insistence on scientific fidelity. The result is earnest, timeless, and beautiful. If you want to get even more out of Nolan's bare-hearted blockbuster, though, check out these films, which deal with many of the same themes and draw from similar inspirations.

It's hard to add Stanley Kubrick's science fiction masterpiece to this list without feeling like it's too obvious. Surely everyone's seen this movie. It's a go-to source for both homage and cheap parody. But "2001: A Space Odyssey" earned its place in history for a reason. The film treats space with the beauty and the terror it deserves, and its oddly hopeful ending pairs well with the optimism intrinsic to "Interstellar."

Kubrick worked with science-fiction author Arthur C. Clarke to create a story that veils clarity in metaphor and silence, carried by the riddle of the monolith and stunning visual effects and sets. Recreating our galaxy in ways both mysterious and familiar, Kubrick frames Jupiter's moons like isolated gods, bringing with them wonderment and despair. The shots of Frank Poole jogging in a centrifuge-powered loop within the Discovery spacecraft are understated, while an earlier shot makes a stewardesses' mundane behavior into magic. In "2001," life in space feels natural, not action-packed, building a contrast that gives the movie its acid-trip reputation.

The trippy climax plays on Clarke's specialties, raising a wordless but profound series of questions about what's next for our species. Like Clarke's earlier novel, "Childhood's End," "2001: A Space Odyssey" wonders how humanity might be shaped by the inexplicable. The ending may be confusing, but its hopeful notes regarding our rebirth in the womb of space ring clear.

Released in 1972 in the shadow of both "Solaris" and "2001: A Space Odyssey," "Silent Running" is often overlooked. It's easy to be driven away by its heavy-handed environmentalism, and it's not as scientifically accurate as its predecessors. Where "Silent Running" thrives, however, is in reminding the audience how to love the world around us. The emotional toll the film takes on viewers willing to give it a chance is what makes it special.

Lonely and elegiac, "Silent Running" pins its story on Bruce Dern's biologist, Freeman Lowell. After Earth has been drained of nature, corporations have built small space arks to maintain some of our forests and fauna. But the corporations cut funding for these refuges during the film, driving Lowell to rebellion. His protest turns violent, and his victory is bittersweet. It's on-the-nose stuff, about as subtle as a brick-flavored martini. But the earnest way Dern pleads for the audience to not forget what nurtured us tugs at the soul.

"Silent Running" also lays the foundation for one charming "Interstellar" sub-plot. Nolan's robots, CASE and TARS, can trace their lineage back to the three service droids helping Lowell maintain his forest. Just as TARS' dry loyalty and pre-programmed humor gradually make him into something more than a mere appliance, the robots Huey, Dewey, and Louie's sacrifices make them part of the film's human experience. By the end, it's impossible to not empathize with their plight.

Another easy pick, Ridley Scott's 2015 adaptation of Andy Weir's debut novel goes for the hardest science it can without making the audience's eyes glaze over. "The Martian" thrives on the same irrepressible humanity that fuels "The Right Stuff," yet somehow Mark Watney's plight feels more realistic and empathetic, despite being purely fiction. Ridley's cinematographer, Dariusz Wolski, with the aid of both some stunning production design and also NASA itself, turns a Jordan valley into a vision of Mars that passes without question, pulling the audience into the story of a stranded astronaut.

Watney's fight to survive and his dry, often absurdist humor make the audience instinctively root and weep for him. It's a meme that rescuing Matt Damon gets more expensive in each subsequent film, but Damon's warm and approachable take on Weir's good-humored botanist makes him worth the cost. If "The Martian" had been released a few years earlier or later, it would've become an even bigger science-fiction touchstone. As it is, NASA's enduring love for the movie will keep it alive alongside "Interstellar" for decades to come.

"Moon" is an intriguing take on the loneliness that permeates any number of science fiction films, tying that sensation to a literal identity crisis. It's a little like "Solaris," and has many overt homages to "Silent Running," a connection director Duncan Jones has discussed in interviews. But while "Moon" resembles other deep space adventures and plays with the same emotions those other ventures bring up, it also explores some real questions about how humanity could live long-term on the lunar surface.

For science fiction junkies who love a little truth in their movies, the helium-mining operation that Sam Rockwell's character oversees is based out of a bunker made from moon-produced materials. That's a real world concept that astrophysicists and geologists were already discussing when Jones introduced his film to NASA, at the organization's request. Mooncrete, also labeled in some scientific texts as "lunarcrete," is a slice of grimy futurism that makes "Moon" feel all the more relevant. Sam Rockwell's blue collar doggedness is an equally sturdy counterpart to McConaughey's trim farmer pretensions in "Interstellar." Meanwhile, Kevin Spacey's bodiless presence in the film can, thankfully, be ignored.

It's sheer coincidence that 1997's "Contact" also has Matthew McConaughey in it, but this movie's method of blending science and faith makes it worth watching in addition to McConaughey's later sci-fi blockbuster. Carl Sagan imbued his original novel with a full-throated attempt to bridge the gap between the mathematic and the divine, and Robert Zemeckis's adaptation embraces that theme with an earnestness that borders on cheesy. But the film holds up, in no small part due to some great camera work. A deceptively simple hallway sequence uses mirrors to visually portray the characters' fear of mortality and of loss, and the film's jaunt through space is a colorful showstopper that still elicits awe.

While some of the film feels as dated as Tom Skerritt's lush mustache, solid performances carry an emotional impact that remains timeless. John Hurt as the joyously eccentric billionaire S.R. Hadden lightens the movie's heavy emotional load, and a gentle performance by veteran character actor David Morse provides a bedrock of love and acceptance that turns Jodie Foster's metaphorical first contact experience into something full of earnest hope.