CINEMIKE: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

Director: Stanley Kubrick

I love Stanley Kubrick. Really I do. He had a profound talent for film making, able to turn his abilities to virtually any genre. From horror in The Shining, to comedy in Dr Strangelove, to war in Paths of Glory, there is not a single genre that Stanley Kubrick hasn’t tackled with talent.

I like Leonard Rossiter dancing around like an idiot in Barry Lyndon, and Tom Cruise being Tom Cruise in Eyes Wide Shut. I even like the second half of Full Metal Jacket. He is one of the very few directors who I believe deserve the title of artistic genius.

And then there’s 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Co-written with sci-fi titan Arthur C. Clarke, 2001 is an epic saga of space exploration, humanity and sentience, and a whimsical singing computer.

It is also staggeringly, mind-numbingly dull.

I had seen 2001 many, many years ago on DVD, and remember enjoying it immensely. Being the witty, dashing and extraordinarily handsome film connoisseur that I am, I thought I would go see it in the cinema for the grand 50^th anniversary. This version was taken from the original 70mm prints of 2001 and overseen by Christopher Nolan (himself possessing an excellent track record). I went in with high hopes.

But…I don’t get it.

That’s not to say the praise it gets isn’t deserved. It is an immensely striking artistic film, and some of the stylistic choices are genuinely awing. The music is atmospheric are creepy, the practical special effects are great, the colours and sound blend together well and Kubrick’s vision shines through in every single frame. I would be happy to take virtually any still frame from 2001 and hang it on my wall.

I am in no doubt 2001 is an excellent piece of art, so why do I hate it so much?

Some say I am overzealous when I use the phrase ‘pretentious garbage’, but 2001 fully deserves that title. Although visually impressive, 2001 is completely lacking in emotional context. A great deal of significance happens, but we are given very little (I dare say absolutely no) reason to care about it with regards to its effect. What significance do the events on screen have on our characters? Kubrick only jangles his keys and gives an enigmatic giggle.

For a large part of the film it is never acknowledged that anything is happening, either through clunky exposition or elegant dialogue. What are the monoliths? Why are they directing people to Jupiter? What the hell was up with that giant space baby? All these questions and more will be pointedly ignored as the film plods along. There is never a moment where we are allowed to take in the significance of what is happening on-screen in the context of what is happening in the wider story.

I have been told that the plot makes more sense having read Arthur C. Clarke’s accompanying book, but I don’t accept having to do homework to enjoy films from other directors, and I don’t accept it here.

That’s not to say some things don’t work. The early ape scenes are interesting in an isolated kind of way, and any scene with HAL is enjoyable. On that note, HAL is the best part of the film. Douglas Rain has a voice as calm and soothing as a chamomile enema, even when threatening to kill people, and gives an enormous amount of personality to what is in reality a static red LED.

It is an enormous shame that the good moments of 2001 are interspersed with long, long, long, dry periods of plodding silence and ‘atmosphere’. Building tension and establishing atmosphere is an essential part of most films, but this takes that concept to an absurd extreme. You cannot build up to something that has no foundation.

Although the run time is just two and a half hours, it feels like five. Watching 2001 was the only time I have ever fallen asleep in the cinema, something I didn’t think would ever happen.

The ending is a farce. Many may claim it is enigmatic and intriguing. Personally, I had to stifle my laughter at the sheer decadent, self-indulgent, contextless absurdity of it. Here is an eye, interspersed with colour-adjusted hills. Now we are in a white room decorated by someone who really loved baroque paintings. Now watch as our hero slowly, painstakingly picks up a fork.

I envision Kubrick dancing around wildly, foaming slightly at the mouth:

“Ask me what it means! Ask me what it means!”

“What does it mean, Stanley?”

“I’ll never tell! Look, a giant baby!”

If somebody tasked me with creating an intentionally pretentious art film, the final 20 minutes of 2001 would be pretty close to what I would make.

Verdict

For the same experience in a fraction of the time, stare at the sun then rub your eyes really hard. Congratulations, you are watching 2001.

2/10

IMDB – 2001: A Space Odyssey