Christopher Nolan, the acclaimed British director of contemporary classics like Inception and The Dark Knight, has often been compared to Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick is known as one of the greatest filmmakers to ever work in the medium, responsible for films such as The Shining, A Clockwork Orange, and Full Metal Jacket.

Both directors have been (or were) prolific and critically acclaimed in their time. Notable among both of their portfolios are the science fiction films 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick 1968) and Interstellar (Nolan 2014), their respective takes on the future of mankind and our role in space exploration.

While 2001 is notoriously inscrutable, a certain interpretation of its last minutes and its most famous character suggests that it actually shares much more than a genre with Interstellar. But what is this interpretation? And how do the lauded classic themes compare to Christopher Nolan’s new takes?

2001’s central mystery is that of the Monolith, the only ‘character’ to appear in all four chapters of the film. The Monolith is a mysterious force, appearing at pivotal moments in man’s timeline: the dawn of man, an expedition to the moon, a journey to Jupiter, something else entirely.

While the only thing the Monolith ever does is emit radio bursts in the direction of Jupiter, it is clear that it has a deeper role. Given its appearance at these key moments in time, it can be said that the Monolith has some understanding of humanity and its history.

From this, we can gather that the Monolith is either hyper-intelligent or capable of time travel. Either way, it suggests a knowledge far beyond that of 2001’s human beings.

The same is true for 2001’s main antagonist HAL 9000, the computer aboard the spaceship bound for Jupiter. Although at first, HAL is a great help to the humans on the ship, he begins to find errors where there is none, and his faulty programming jeopardizes their mission.

HAL is able to kill all but one of the humans on board before the last one, Dave, stops him by removing key components of his programming. The Monolith then appears again, and Dave is whisked through a Star Gate to an elegant room, where he observes the stages of his life.

He witnesses his age and how the passage of time has affected him. Kubrick achieves this by having Dave look forward to the next stage of his life.

On his deathbed, an extremely old Dave looks forward to the Monolith. The film ends with a shot of a humongous baby (the Star Child) orbiting the Earth, staring directly into the camera.

Things to note in this account are the nature of its antagonist, the suggestions of the ending sequence, and the importance of the final shot. HAL 9000’s origins as a creation of humanity enable a comparison to a child.

This comparison is enhanced when one considers his stubbornness and the choice to have his final words be a statement of his birthday and the singing of a song. The only other children depicted in the film are a scientist’s daughter and the Star Child.

The scientist’s daughter, too, thinks of her birthday often. We view the Star Child on what is presumably its birthday, at its creation.

We can draw the conclusion that HAL 9000, the artificial intelligence, is a child. HAL was created by man. He is a child of man. HAL 9000 is of man. What does HAL bear a striking resemblance to? The Monolith, the central mystery of the film.

The Star Gate sequence of 2001 is thought to be one of the greatest sequences put to film, and for good reason. The sequence employs a variety of techniques to disorient and astonish the viewer.

Among these techniques is the use of blocking to display human aging and the progression of humanity over time. The aforementioned looks towards later stages of life set rules for how this odd room works. Kubrick shows how man changes over time and ends this sequence of aging with the monolith sitting at the foot of Dave’s bed.

The clearest conclusion to be drawn from this sequence is that the Monolith is, at least in some way, man. According to the previously established rule, Dave looks forward and sees man. Dave looks forward and sees the Monolith.

Thus, the Monolith is man. Knowing that the Monolith is man, and taking into account its resemblance to HAL and the nature of HAL, we can infer that the Monolith is also a child of man. Note its position at the foot of Dave’s bed. This is a position of deference to an elder, a position of a father to a son. The Monolith and HAL are children of man. The Monolith and HAL 9000 are of man.

This leaves us to the Star Child. What is the Star Child? Its identity, believe it or not, can be discerned from the aspect ratio of the film. Stanley Kubrick is known for carefully placing every last detail in his films.

Thus, it is entirely reasonable to assume that the aspect ratio is not simply a random choice. The ratio, 2.2:1, is strikingly similar to the Monolith’s dimensions. Some would argue that this was only chosen to align the imagery of the Monolith with the screen. However, there is an even deeper meaning.

After the man (Dave) faces the monolith at the foot of his bed, the Star Child is introduced. The Star Child looks directly into the camera. What is the Star Child looking at? The Monolith, of course.

Following the logic of the previous sequence, the Monolith should be turned to look at the next step in human progression. The Monolith (the camera) is looking at this next step: the Star Child.

The Star Child is man, is child. The central mystery of 2001 is thus solved. The Monolith is not God, not an agent of good or evil. The Monolith is of man, a historian, sent to these pivotal moments to observe.

It is sent to these times to study and to encourage humanity in its efforts. The Monolith is responsible for the mission to Jupiter, sending radio waves to our next step, our next chapter. 2001 is speculative fiction of the highest kind, an interrogation of our human nature and the future of man.

The Monolith is portrayed as the next step of human evolution. After that, the Star Child. In this way, 2001 shares a remarkable amount of thematic ground with Interstellar.

Interstellar tells the story of an astronaut who is enlisted to journey through a wormhole in the hopes of finding a new planet for humanity to inhabit. While the film’s main theme is the love between father and child, the climax of the film also includes a revelation that future evolutions of man have been aiding the heroes on their journey.

Similar to 2001, the film speculates on what the future of humanity might be and what form we might take. Dissimilar to 2001, Interstellar tells the viewer this directly.

Important to all fiction, sci-fi in particular, is the use of the imagination. This is what allows the viewer to feel as if they are a part of the world. While it is possible to appreciate Nolan’s clear-cut and meticulous approach to the image and scientific speculation, it also makes the viewer feel like they have no stake in the film.

By having everything explained in the end, the viewer does not have to think about the film after it ends. In action films, this can be a boon, tying up loose ends and freeing the audience of worry for the main characters and their world. In science fiction films, this removes the entire purpose of the genre.

You should want to know more about the worlds and characters that are presented to you. This is the fundamental aspect of science fiction – curiosity. Interstellar gives you the answers and lets you leave the theater without much thought, creating a passive audience. 2001 demands an investigation on your part.

It gives you the eyes of its mystery, it draws you into the act of observation. It leaves things up to the viewer, asking them to consider their future as well as that of humanity.

Of course, I do not presuppose that everybody wants a viewing experience like this, but in order for art to be truly valuable, it must capture its audience’s attention. It must provoke thought. It must ask the viewer to consider something about themselves that they may not have thought of before.

This is the reason that 2001 has been discussed to this day, even after 53 years, and Interstellar has been forgotten, even among Nolan’s filmography.