Preface
This is the first of many movie "reviews" (commentaries, really) that I intend to post here. I'll rate each movie on a 10-point scale, whole numbers only (my understanding of my preferences is only so precise). I plan on stepping up my film viewing, an activity that tends to be massively more rewarding than most two-hour periods in my life. Despite this fact, and despite the passiveness of the endeavor, I usually find it difficult to motivate myself to watch a movie. Maybe this is because I wishfully think that I'll do something more productive, or maybe I relish the freedom of controlling my time. (Do you ever find yourself feeling too lazy to watch a movie, besides when you're too tired?) At any rate, there are worse forms of self-paternalism than being glued to the screen.
Review
I first saw this film when I was about 12, and I didn't think too much of it. But the circumstances were less than ideal: the TV was small, the audio was weak, sunlight encroached on the screen, a vulgar caterwauling emanated from the attic, and I had just been fired for running an illegal organ lottery among the other paperboys. (I hope you're enjoying your redundant kidney, Jimmy.)
My viewing experience was much improved when I revisited 2001 a few days ago. (Business is booming, thank you.) Here's what stood out to me:
1. The music. On the one hand, duh. On the other, have you actually listened to "On the Beautiful Blue Danube" recently? It's 10+ minutes of constant enjoyment - every melody is beautiful. Of course, another Strauss also has his moments. What most intrigued me, though, were the selections by György Ligeti. I don't usually appreciate atonal or unmelodic pieces, but the "monolith theme" is an awesome blend of the haunting, intense, and otherworldly. Notably, Kubrick commissioned a score by Alex North but then decided to use the classical recordings he had been playing during production - without telling North.
2. The new bone. At the end of "The Dawn of Man" chapter, the triumphant tool-user throws his tapir bone (which he just used to beat the life out of a rival hominid) into the air, and the scene artfully cuts from the bone to its modern counterpart: a white, cylindrical nuclear device orbiting the earth. That's deep. Or maybe I'm just a sucker for a good transition.
3. The visual realism. The space exploration special effects hold up remarkably well considering that the film turns 40(!) this year. Not only do they look realistic, they also illustrate Kubrick's attention to procedural detail. He uses extended shots of relatively mundane activities in order to give us a sense of what it's like in the vacuum and how exactly people get things done.
4. The computer. HAL's got a great voice (he's going to sing "Fitter Happier" in my remake). And his lines aren't half-bad, either. If only his shipmates weren't so wooden and...mechanical. (Was Kubrick trying to say something about astronauts - that the government preferred unimaginative military men to a fault?) If I were on board, I'd've picked his brain nonstop. A conscious computer would never get old. Screw chess - imagine having a conversation about philosophy, or anything else for that matter. What would you talk about?
5. The end. What's the deal? The protracted light show screams "we've got to do something with all these FX shots," especially when the colored landscapes kick in after what I thought would be the climax (when everything appears to be culminating in a burst of white light). And then there's the bizarre room sequence. I won't spoil it; I'll just speculate: is this how the aliens wanted Dave to perceive his transformation? Or is it Kubrick reminding us that 2001 is an art film, infinitely beyond trashy sci-fi?
Rating: 9/10
January 13, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Read the book and think about how you would have done the ending given the technology of the day. Kubrik does OK when you think about it that way.
Post a Comment