Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 film, 2001: A Space Odyssey is a true monolith of cinema. A timeless epic of intergalactic proportions, this visual splendor not only presents a striking spectacle to arouse an ocular fetish, but also compels a contemplative voyage and exploration of this universe by vessel of the senses. The extraordinary experience of 2001 tempts the viewer to look outside what is known, and to ponder the unthinkable and seek the origins of intelligence. 2001: A Space Odyssey continues to ignite by virtue, the phenomenal realm which benevolently aids spectators in illuminating the noumenal abyss that is the unknown. Stanley Kubrick and his team were able to accomplish this triumph by employing unsurpassed levels of attention to detail and accuracy, while simultaneously envisioning and applying revolutionary tactics to create the ultimate canon of visual film.
2001: A Space Odyssey was conceived in secrecy. After the great success of Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 dark nuclear comedy classic, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, the director was under no pressure to share his vision or big budget outer space operation with the production company, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. The covert nature of the filming process allowed Kubrick and his team the freedom to experiment and create a new kind of film; their roles shifted from filmmakers and producers and they were able to act as artists, craftsmen, innovators, and visionaries.
If there was a conventional way to do it, forget that and think of something else. Go 180 degrees in the opposite direction, and think of something new, different, in absolutely every category of work; and it made me open up to the whole idea of "what is film?"[1]
Initial reception of the film was widely negative to say the least. Audiences and critics alike were baffled and disoriented; without the guiding light of a fully comprehensible narrative divulging conventional cues of the classic cinematic experience, many viewers were lost.
Critic Arthur Schlesinger Jr. reviewed the film as, “Morally pretentious, intellectually obscure and inordinately long…a film out of control.” Newsday wrote, “Space Odyssey fails most gloriously” and the New York Times infamously stated “Somewhere between hypnotic and immensely boring.”[2]It is recorded that at the film’s premier in 1968, 241 people walked out of the theatre during the screening (this includes movie star Rock Hudson, who prominently begged the question “Can someone tell me what the hell this is about?”).[3] 2001 was like nothing anyone had ever seen.
One of the primal reasons for a large portion of viewers’ dismay upon the initial release of the film, is they were anticipating a “science fiction movie”--when what they received was something far different. Rather than Kubrick presenting a space mission complete with green aliens, sexy moon goddesses, and a plot derived from comic books or the popular television series Outer Limits, these themes remained untouched. Instead the film “celebrated the beauty of space travel, the beauty of design, and the beauty of motion.”[4]
Kubrick had no intention of gifting the audience with momentary shock and scene-by-scene cheap thrills; instead he wished to astonish their psyche via canal of the eyes and ears and send them to bed disoriented while inspiring genuine lasting reflection. In lieu of scenes in the film possessing a shock factor, the film, as a whole, in its entirety, genuinely stunned audiences.
Of all the genres of film, traditional science fiction could not have been farther from the visual contemplative journey that Kubrick wanted to create with 2001. It was the first time people really took science fiction seriously. A lot of the science-fiction of that point, especially during the fifties had been very “B oriented” which is a giant monster, a giant ant, a giant this.[5]
A worthy mention of Kubrick’s decision to employ the elegant and limitless as a surrogate to the trendy, Hollywood status-quo, is presented in the director’s ideal, yet unconventional, choice of music for the film. Originally, Kubrick had employed prominent Hollywood composer, Alex North, to create an entirely new and avant-garde soundtrack for 2001. And Alex North did. However, in the final stages of editing, Kubrick vetoed Alex North's original score and opted to go with the temp-track of already established classic and romantic pieces the crew had used during the filming process (to be fair, he did send Mr. North a paycheck).[6]
To this day, any person who has experienced the film, 2001, will begin to hear “On the Beautiful Blue Danube” at the mere optical suggestion of Kubrick's pristine space crafts waltzing through the abyss of an infinite glorious space. Equally compelling, the first and unforgettable encounter with the monolith at the film's commencement, where Richard Strauss’s triumphant yet foreboding tonal expression, "Thus Spake Zarathustra" caused viewers to take pause and question if perhaps there was something wrong with the screen.
György Ligeti’s eerie intrepid "Atmospheres" is used to express bewilderment and curiosity of the primates regarding the mysterious monolith. The off-color ballad evolves throughout the duration of the film into a leitmotif, carrying with it mysteries of radical progression and enigmatic connotations concerning the extraterrestrial. [7] The power these scenes exude to this day is testament to Kubrick’s radical decision to adopt these songs for the film. The result of the revolutionary juxtaposition creates a graceful and iconic contrast: man's newest endeavors paired seemlessly with the eternal vastness of the most outer frontiers of existence. In a film with next to no dialogue --the music matters.
The striking lack of dialogue in 2001: A Space Odyssey, as well as the specific materials that serve as substitutes for this traditional dialogue, have implications that go far beyond the arena of narrative interpretation. In place of language, for example, the film’s emphasis on technology foregrounds the calculations of arithmetic and geometry, expressions of number instead of the semantic logic of words, the film confronts viewers with the order of the cosmos. In place of the phrase structures of spoken rhetoric, Kubrick offers diverse strains of music. Arithmetic, geometry, astronomy and music…[8]
Kubrick was determined for the film to be in accord with facts and physics of cutting edge science. In his quest for accuracy, the director and his team requested the aid of the top scientific experts of the time. This team included scientist Fred Orway, who describes Kubrick's considerable expectations as:
He wanted us to make certain that every detail was legitimate. He didn’t know at the time where he was going to put his camera; so the geophysical, the instrumentation, the astronomical module, the chemical analysis module, the communications module, the hibernation module, all of these modules on the discovery space ship had to be exact; it had to be realistic; it had to be really approved by the best scientific knowledge that we had at the time.[9]
It was Kubrick’s strive for scientific accuracy and quest to predict the future of space life and travel that forged the immaculate aesthetic that is 2001. The author of 2001: A Space Odyssey (originally a short story entitled "The Sentinel"), Arthur C. Clarke, established a close relationship with NASA in the 1960’s. Clarke’s connection with NASA aided in the truthfulness of the production. An excellent example of groundbreaking tactile special effects used to imitate the conditions of space was the crew’s valiant effort to flawlessly capture on film, the façade of weightlessness in a realm of anti-gravity.
Illustrating this cutting-edge research is a depiction of a stewardess' struggle to walk in special "Grip Shoes" on a work commute passenger space shuttle –the shoes created specifically for cosmic travel and the pesky troubles anti-gravity may cause the modern, everyday, space-pedestrian. These shoes aid the flight attendant in her ability to perform the duties of her job, preventing her from inadvertently hovering over the ground.
In the same scene, a pen floats out of a passenger's pocket and into the aisle of the shuttle. In order to create the buoyant reaction of the pen, the crew utilized the recent breakthrough invention of double-sided tape, and clandestinely adhered the pen to a sheet of glass, which they then slowly spun to give the appearance of a light object in an anti-gravity situation. Although these methods were simple in nature, the resultant display on camera presents an impeccable and very realistic scene. The legitimacy is remarkable --even when compared to present-day film.
Kubrick also strived for exactitude through his directorial style. He limited his communication with the cast of the film to an absolute minimum. He used an assistant to relay messages between the actors and himself.[11] It is very possible that Kubrick was trying to remain faithful to an underlying theme of the story where communication between humans is secondary to a “narrative virtually un-interpretable without recourse to the Romantic idea of the sublime image.”[12] Perhaps he wanted to push the actors to feelings of solitary existence, one where the warmth of human guidance and encouragement is removed from the regimented tasks set before them. The director's commitment to what one may deem "method-directing" is further testament to Kubrick's unwavering dedication to accuracy and authenticity.
The steady theme of a growing distance between humans is also displayed through the space inhabitants' dependence on technology. Astronaut Dave’s relationship with his computer, named HAL, is another prime example of this theme. Dave interacts more with HAL than any other character in the film; and as the film reveals, it seems that HAL (apart from the ape men), pertains more pure and plentiful humanoid emotions than that of Dave and the other human characters of 2001 --combined.
Kubrick further delves into the theme of decaying human-to-human interaction while displaying omniscient brilliance --nothing too out of the ordinary for the virtuoso-- by predicting the human dependency on screens (the human-race currently residing at the apex of addiction in 2015). The people of 2001: A Space Odyssey seldom look upon one another, and the dialogue --quite intentionally-- measures at the lowest possible degree. Warner Brothers executive, John Calley on Kubrick’s forecast of the future of intimacy states:
As a species we have started spending all of our time looking at screens…. We have become parallelists, we don’t look at each other; we look together at the screen.[13]
Kubrick further delves into the theme of decaying human-to-human interaction while displaying omniscient brilliance --nothing too out of the ordinary for the virtuoso-- by predicting the human dependency on screens (the human-race currently residing at the apex of addiction in 2015). The people of 2001: A Space Odyssey seldom look upon one another, and the dialogue --quite intentionally-- measures at the lowest possible degree. Warner Brothers executive, John Calley on Kubrick’s forecast of the future of intimacy states:
As a species we have started spending all of our time looking at screens…. We have become parallelists, we don’t look at each other; we look together at the screen.[13]
In fact, the characters in 2001- excluding the
ape-men and the HAL 9000 computer display a seeming incapacity for engaged,
emotional perception and interaction, which is underscored by the film's
tendency to depict the technological mediation of speech and vision. Examples
of this mediation are numerous: the empty polities exchanged between Dr.
Heywood Floyd and a video recording during "voice print
identification"; Floyd's stilted video-phone conversation with his
daughter; the cameras present at the press conference and during the
scientists' encounter with the monolith uncovered on the moon; the video
messages relayed between the Discovery spacecraft and Earth which take hours or
days to reach their destination; and so on.[14]
The initial scene of the film is, in fact, a close-up of the star --the monolith. For an uninterrupted two minutes and fifty-five seconds, the screen is consumed by darkness. As a member of the audience, feelings of bewilderment, curiosity, and purpose consume the mind. Mr. Strauss's music further evokes elements of mystery and suspense in reverence to the great monolith. This initial rendezvous with the structure acts as a harness –preparing to take the audience-- just as it takes primitive man and Astronaut Dave on a journey of exponential growth, understanding, rapid development and sentience.
Following an alignment of
the planets, we are presented with “The Dawn Of Man;” vast orange and yellow
skies are lit and painted across the horizon of the rocky desert landscapes.
This new frontier echoes the familiarity of the home planet; an
openness and relief from the mystery and uncertainty of the monolith, with warmth juxtaposed alongside the vast coldness of space. The sounds are that of nature
and of wind. Prior to cultivating outer space, man roamed the earth.
The transition of the
“3 million year jump-cut” reigns as the most iconic jump-cut in cinematic history. It is the
perfect segue into the inky, star-speckled vastness that is the infinity of
space.
According to visual effects supervisor, Doug Trumball, “The Star-Gate sequence opens with a corridor of luminous lines shifting in position and colour as they seemingly extend into a frontal vanishing point suggestive of infinite depth, an effects technique termed "slit-scan" that was created for the film.”[17] Projectors were used, with each frame of space hand painted by the crew. They punctured these frames with holes and backlit them to create stars. Dave's intergalactic voyage through space and time is nothing short of spellbinding.
Stanley Kubrick's wife Christiane Kubrick, who worked on all of her husband's films since their first encounter on the set of the director's 1957 WWI classic Paths of Glory, recalls her husband's instructions for the art department:
Please draw me an image that doesn't remind me of anything in a color that doesn't exist.[18]
The most memorable imagery or aspects of 2001 varies depending on the individual. For some, it is the scenes taking place at "The Dawn of Man"(the three million year jump-cut is often sited). For many, it is the orbiting space palaces caught in insouciant duet with "On the Beautiful Blue Danube" contrasted with the great planetary spheres of space, while a starry sky illuminates all the eye can see. HAL's deception and betrayal of Dave stands out to many. Others would state that Dave's rapid maturation followed by his metamorphosis into the mysterious Star Child takes precedence.
The film is truly one iconic, glorious vision after another. A series of images that continue to mesmerize all who see the film is that of the sublime nebulae formations; expanding and wafting at superb levels of intoxication inducing stimuli.
By dropping lacquered paints and enamel on trays of black water, these “nebulas” would expand on top of the liquid. The crew filmed the reaction of lacquer and enamel in combination with the light, enlarging what was occurring in approximately a three by five inch radius. The resultant effect of this revolutionary filming technique appeared on the big screen as colorful auroral “cataclysmic events” occurring light-years in the distance. To this day, these simple hand created nebulas continue to blow audiences and visual effects artists away with their exquisite beauty and likeness to the real thing.[19]
These images of space are a true gift; Kubrick bestows upon the audience the opportunity to sit back and revel in the unsurpassed beauty of the cosmos. If one adheres to the scientific theory or spiritual belief that “we are all made of stars,” these scenes portraying the cosmos are not only gazing into the universe's history --but also our own ancestry.
The film is truly one iconic, glorious vision after another. A series of images that continue to mesmerize all who see the film is that of the sublime nebulae formations; expanding and wafting at superb levels of intoxication inducing stimuli.
By dropping lacquered paints and enamel on trays of black water, these “nebulas” would expand on top of the liquid. The crew filmed the reaction of lacquer and enamel in combination with the light, enlarging what was occurring in approximately a three by five inch radius. The resultant effect of this revolutionary filming technique appeared on the big screen as colorful auroral “cataclysmic events” occurring light-years in the distance. To this day, these simple hand created nebulas continue to blow audiences and visual effects artists away with their exquisite beauty and likeness to the real thing.[19]
These images of space are a true gift; Kubrick bestows upon the audience the opportunity to sit back and revel in the unsurpassed beauty of the cosmos. If one adheres to the scientific theory or spiritual belief that “we are all made of stars,” these scenes portraying the cosmos are not only gazing into the universe's history --but also our own ancestry.
The most glorious facet of this film may be that which can never be conveyed; that which cannot be said or even known. Arthur C. Clarke notes that toward the end of production, the crew was working on creating aliens to put in the film; however, the idea was ruled out in the last days of filming.[20] The choice to leave the face and body of extraterrestrial life absent is a decision that has stood the test of time; the vacancy of the visual creates for something more powerful and introspective than that which can be created by the hand of man.
Stanley Kubrick refused to underestimate the minds and imaginations of the audience, and to generously grant the freedom upon all who watch the film to employ their own interpretation of 2001. When asked in an interview to reveal the meaning behind the film, Kubrick replied:
How much would we appreciate La Giaconda today if Leonardo had written at the bottom of the canvas: “This Lady is smiling slightly because she has wrotten teeth”-or “because she’s hiding a secret from her lover?” It would shut off the viewer’s appreciation and shackle him to a “reality” other than his own. I don’t want that to happen to 2001.[21]
How much would we appreciate La Giaconda today if Leonardo had written at the bottom of the canvas: “This Lady is smiling slightly because she has wrotten teeth”-or “because she’s hiding a secret from her lover?” It would shut off the viewer’s appreciation and shackle him to a “reality” other than his own. I don’t want that to happen to 2001.[21]
Visionary and prodigious genius Stanley Kubrick, understood the most beautiful and fascinating concepts in this universe are in fact the mysteries. Although the visuals of 2001 remain brilliant and awe-inducing, it is the contemplation these visuals inspire that elevate the film above all others.
Who are we? Where do we come from? What does it all mean?
It is not only the splendid creation presented on film, but the sense of abandonment and void left within the viewer when it is finished, that leaves 2001:A Space Odyssey forever etched in the mind of all who have experienced the film.
Who are we? Where do we come from? What does it all mean?
It is not only the splendid creation presented on film, but the sense of abandonment and void left within the viewer when it is finished, that leaves 2001:A Space Odyssey forever etched in the mind of all who have experienced the film.
[2] "2001: The Making of a Myth."
[3] Roger Ebert, “2001: A Space Odyssey Review,” March 27, 1997, accessed February 21, 2014, http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/great-movie-2001-a-space-odyssey-1968
Space Odyssey. DVD. Directed by Stanley Kubrick. Burbank, California, 2007.
[3] Patterson, “Music, Structure and Metaphor in Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey," 450.
[3] Patterson, “Music, Structure and Metaphor in Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey," 450.
[4] Fred
Orway, “2001: The Making of a Myth.”
[5] George Lucas, “Standing on
the Shoulders of Kubrick: The Legacy of 2001.” 2001: A
Space Odyssey. DVD. Directed by Stanley Kubrick. Burbank,
California, 2007.
[8] Ibid.
[9] Orway,
[11] Heather Downham, “2001: The Making of a Myth.” 2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD.
[9] Orway,
[11] Heather Downham, “2001: The Making of a Myth.” 2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD.
[12] Patterson, 447.
[13] “Vision of a Future Past: The Prophecy of
2001.” 2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD. Directed by Stanley Kubrick. Burbank,
California, 2007.
[14] Rowe, “The Romantic Model of 2001: A Space Odyssey.”
[15]Arthur C. Clarke “2001: The Making of a Myth.”
2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD.
[16] Stanley Kubrick, “Standing on the
Shoulders of Kubrick: The Legacy of 2001.”
[17] Rowe
[18] Christiane Kubrick, “2001: The Making of a Myth.” 2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD.
[19] Trumball
[20]Clarke
[21] Kubrick
*All images sourced from Google Images apart from the nebulae scenes which are screenshots of 2001: A Space Odyssey
[18] Christiane Kubrick, “2001: The Making of a Myth.” 2001: A Space Odyssey. DVD.
[19] Trumball
[20]Clarke
[21] Kubrick
*All images sourced from Google Images apart from the nebulae scenes which are screenshots of 2001: A Space Odyssey
Laura: 2001 isn't exactly a movie lacking in words that have been written about it, but I think this is a solid, well-written overview and will be of particular value to those who may be encountering this movie for the first time. I particularly liked the inclusion of Kubrick's request for " an image that doesn't remind me of anything in a color that doesn't exist."
ReplyDeleteSpeaking of which, I appreciate both your authoritative voice and your thoroughness in attributing your sources, something with which the majority percentage of bloggers could do better. (I've seen plagiarism up close from a fellow writer or two since I started my own blog, and it's a pretty ugly sight.)
Thanks for linking me to your site too. You definitely seem like you're on the right track, and as long as you speak with your voice and write from the heart you'll do good work which I look forward to reading. I would encourage you to write what you know, of course, but also to take chances, investigate movies outside your comfort zone, experiment with refining your writing voice and finding the right tone, however formal or informal, that says "you," to write primarily for yourself and what speaks to you, to never let anybody tell you what you've written is too short or too long, and to never be afraid to go back and think again about what you've seen and written-- nobody's observations are carved in stone. You may just find that, in not catering to any interests other than the ones that truly move you, you will be discovered by the audience that is just right for you and get the most out of what you're doing. That's exactly what happened to me.
I'm looking forward to seeing more from you. Let's keep in touch!
Dennis
http://sergioleoneifr.blogspot.com
Oh, and feel free to e-mail me if you ever want to commiserate about movies or any thoughts you might have about writing. My e-mail address can be found on the sidebar of my site.
ReplyDeleteDennis: Thank you so much for taking the time to read through my first post. I am starstruck right now as your blog and writing style are among my very favorites. You are correct in that 2001 has been written about over and over and was certainly not due for another analysis. I do, however, have too many friends who have not seen it (I know, shameful) and I wanted to begin with something that established my canon of taste in film. I am covering something a bit more obscure for my next post ;) Again, I appreciate your words of encouragement and advice and I always welcome more. As usual, I will look forward to what you have to say in regards to the finer things. Thanks again!
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