2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY

Stanley Kubrick, dir.
1968, Color, 141 min.
MGM

Author's Commentary. All right. Nearly a year since my last post. That's gotta be annoying. I know I'm disappointed in myself. Hopefully, I can turn things around. I've determined that the only way to make this work is to loosen my writing style to the max. It just has to flow, and that first review, while it was eloquent and well thought out (if I do say so myself), it took forever, and it started to feel like homework by the time I was done. I need to develop my writing style organically, so here goes. A fresh approach.

There are few films that capture something primal and universal, something that can touch nearly anyone on at least one level. I think this is one of those films. The scope and grandeur of this film is timeless, and best of all, it's open for interpretation.

You can always learn something about a film by studying its director, but more than most film auteurs, the work of Stanley Kubrick opens a window into his personality. By the mid-60's, Kubrick had gained a larger-than-life presence in Hollywood, having won 4 Oscars with 1960's Spartacus, starring Kirk Douglas, and having stirred significant public controversy with the films that followed, Lolita and Dr. Strangelove. 2001 marks the point at which Kubrick's soon-to-be-notorious perfectionism had finally gained license to roam. Kubrick's is one of the more storied careers in cinema, and if you enjoy a good 'egomaniacal genius' story, his is not to be missed.

So it would seem that if you like movies, you'll find something to love about 2001, but to be sure, much of the film is less than accessible. Case in point: the absence of a plot synopsis in this review. I feel that I have an understanding of the filmmakers' intended meanings, only because I've assumed a lot and have taken courses discussing space exploration and the search for life in the universe. 2001 boasts one of the more controversial endings a film has ever had, and it's something you're bound to have mixed feelings about. If you can quell the desire for cohesion and resolution, and focus on an audiovisual experience, the film is a blast.

Fun Fact: Kubrick and Clarke's prediction that a yo-yo craze would profoundly
influence space station design in the late 20th century proved to be prophetic.

The central portion of the film boasts dialogue with the same charming '60s sensibility present in other Kubrick films like Dr. Strangelove and Lolita. Also from this era are the formal conventions of overture, intermission/entr'acte, and exit music, albeit as a highly unique, jarring style of musical score that for me only heightens the sense of otherworldliness that makes the experience so rich. Relatively little of the film's fake technology seems outlandish or outdated and some even aligns exactly with 21st century tech (widescreen monitors and video chat, for example). Similarly, the film's discussion of AI remains fresh and relevant by current standards. (by the way, if you're into AI, you should Google Ray Kurzweil. Just sayin'.)

Should I describe what a match shot is? Like with the bone and the space station? If you already know this scene in the film, you'll enjoy it again. If it's new to you, maybe it'll blow your mind. I hope so.

In short, what don't I like about this film? I like the music, but it can be pretty amorphous, and the ending is pretty inaccessible. You really have to make it up as you go. While the visuals in the final act are stunning, and unlike anything put to film before or since, they do throw the film off pace in a sense.

All in all, whether you end up loving this film or hating it, I have to say it is truly a film to see before you die. and I'm inclined to suggest you don't procrastinate on this one.

1984

(UK, '84, 113 min.)

Author's Commentary: Many of my reviews will be accompanied by this additional section, which will serve as a) personal notes on my growth as a writer, b) a spot for responses to reader comments (though those may show up in the comment section as well), and c) miscellaneous musings about the accompanying review. Basically, it's the "blog" part of the blog. People who just want to read my movie review can skip the italicized parts. Also, I'm still fiddling with which details I should include in the heading; I'll use rating, country, year of release, and length for now. (Please weigh in on this!) Here we go.

We all know the lines that inevitably spew forth from the "cultured" masses every time there's a film adaptation of classic fiction. "The book was totally better." "I can't believe they left that part out!" "That was SO not the way I imagined it when I read it." I enjoyed a few of the classics I read in high school (Of Mice and Men, Lord of the Flies, To Kill A Mockingbird), but I haven't read many others, and consequently, I usually find myself on the receiving end of these indignant remarks. To be honest, I'm pretty sick of it. So much so, I consider it an asset to review an adaptation of such an influential and widely read work without having read it. Whether this naïve perspective serves me, of course, is for you to decide.

1984 recounts one man's battle against Oceania, an oppressive totalitarian state controlled by the political party INGSOC (which is Newspeak for 'English Socialism,' though the film never explains this). Winston Smith dutifully fakes allegiance to the Party by day, but secretly commits "thoughtcrime" by keeping a diary of his yearning for more than mindlessness and submission. He find a kindred spirit in Julia (Suzanna Hamilton), who accompanies him to the proletariat wastelands, where they find refuge from state surveillance, as well as remains of the same historical past Smith ashamedly rewrites as copy editor for the Oceania Times. She informs Smith of an inner Party member, O'Brien (Richard Burton), who allegedly shares their views and could lead an uprising, but O'Brien's status is more than meets the eye.

A word of warning to modern moviegoers: be aware that this would likely fall into the category of art film. The dialogue is quite dense at times, and it's often muddled by the actors' thick British accents. This viewer scrambled for the DVD subtitles several times. Also, while it's this writer's opinion that the film was engaging enough, many viewers will find its visuals stale and its pacing slow, even boring. In other words, those with T-rex vision or an affinity for the Rush Hour films, don't bother watching. That being said, the film has some outstanding qualities worth exploring further.

The Party logo. Fun Fact: There are no black people in this movie.

Transforming a long-form written work into an engaging visual story can be a daunting task, but 1984's narrative is concise and elegant, thanks to writer/director Michael Radford. The biggest challenge of the story lies in establishing the complex philosophies and concepts behind INGSOC. Big Brother, whose face and voice pump propaganda through Oceania's countless screens 24 hours a day, is an embodiment of the INGSOC philosophy. Radford takes advantage of what could have easily been vague, inconsequential background chatter, instead forming a backbone of contextual evidence throughout the film in order for viewers to familiarize themselves with INGSOC. Through the daily governance administered by these screens, the philosophy of INGSOC and the master plan for Oceania are articulated to the viewer almost subconsciously, and most importantly, without intruding on the development of the main characters.

The acting in the film is also very strong, largely due to its restraint. John Hurt is understated as Smith, and so are all the characters during most of the film. Obviously, this is to allow for the obtrusive omnipresence of Big Brother, but these muted performances also allow the sets and cinematography to shine through. Slow-moving or static camera work draws attention to the crushing, monochrome world the characters inhabit. Short splashes of green grass and blue sky cut through the grayscale to emote the joy and freedom of the couple's brief escapes from the city. In this way, Radford forces himself to tell a written story in visual language. It also attunes the viewer to subtleties, so that when the actors take charge in the final act, it makes for a more engaging climax. As an aside, the acting also underscores one particularly disturbing aspect of dystopia: that people willfully accept their plight, and in some cases, even defend it. Look for a poignant example of this in Gregor Fisher's powerful supporting role as Smith's friend, Parsons.

This film boasts the unique quality of being filmed in London in the spring of 1984, which is the actual time and place that Orwell had imagined 35 years earlier as the setting for the story. It seems apparent that those involved in making the film felt a duty to pay earnest and worthy homage to Orwell's defining work. While the film may not hold much mass market appeal, its richness and attention to detail are commendable. The film style, direction, and performances are cohesive in a way that few films manage, and despite the bleakness of the film, I found myself feeling cautiously optimistic for Smith as the credits rolled. It's difficult to say whether this glimmer of hope was intended or I simply imagined it, but it speaks to the film's portrayal of fierce resilience in the face of hopelessness. Though it's a cautionary tale at its core, 1984 is so much more.

The gimmick...

Everybody wants a great job. Granted, what makes a job great is different for each person. As jobs with health benefits grow rarer each day, insurance has gained prevalence as a marker of a "great job." But at the sprite, young age of 21, insurance isn't my top priority quite yet. My goal is to rise above the drudgery of the office desk, the monotony of the cubicle, and the soul-crushing confines of the computer screen. My vision is grander. My office desk will become a popcorn box, and my cubicle, a cineplex. My screen will be measured in feet, not inches. Yes, I'm talking about the glamorous life of the film critic.

But before visions of "Rotund Roger" Ebert fill your heads, know that it's not the sedentary lifestyle or the preachy platitudes which motivate me to review movies. It's the freedom. As a critic, I'll (hopefully) be able to make my own schedule each day, work anywhere I please, and best of all, express myself freely. In college I've learned well that lively debate and the open expression of differing viewpoints are vital components of effective learning, and when you read a movie review, aren't you essentially trying to learn whether or not a film is worth your time and money? In every review I write, I hope to provide three things: concise summary of the basics (premise, characters, actors, directors, etc.); analysis of film as art that is thought-provoking but not pretentious; and most importantly, my honest, humble opinion about the film as entertainment.

And now, at long last:

THE GIMMICK.

The title of this blog, "The Three Hundred," refers to my quest to pen enjoyable and relevant reviews of--you guessed it--three hundred films. I guess it could also evoke the drama of the Spartans' quest in the 2007 film 300, although this soldier is armed with brain cells and celluloid, rather than bloodlust and bulging pecs. The blog's primary purpose is to gain experience in constructing a movie review, develop a unique, personal writing style. The Internet seems like the ideal location for critics to gain feedback about their work, and who knows? Maybe I'll drum up some significant exposure or even a loyal fan base. Without a doubt, online film criticism is a highly matured industry, but on the other hand, no place yields such high returns on such minimal investment as the World Wide Web. A kid can dream, right?

The films I've chosen to review come from 300 Must-See Films for the Aspiring Critic, compiled by Christopher Null, founder of Filmcritic.com. (Null's 2005 book, Five Stars! How to Become a Film Critic, The World's Greatest Job, carries the list in its appendix. The book was my primary influence for the creation of this blog, and I'll likely refer to it in future writing.) This impressive compilation spans the centenarian history, containing works from every significant genre, prolific director, and major aesthetic movement. Null also points to films which hold historical significance in terms of technological advancement and industry firsts, and even offers several bad movies as lessons in what doesn't work.

So this is it: day 1 of "The Three Hundred." I want to tell you how excited I am that you're here right now, because if you're still reading, it means that you've read something that piques your interest, and you believe you might find something of value in my writing, and that, my friend, is a writer's richest reward. I highly encourage you to comment on my work, especially now, because I'm literally a blank slate at this point. Your feedback will have a real influence on what I write, how I write, and why I write, and I truly value every word.

Here we go!