Posted: Tue Sep 01, 2009 11:37 pm
It's amazing to me...HAL wasn't really onscreen all that long, and he was a murderer...and yet we cared and sympathised with him as he dies.
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I think we can sometimes forget just how controversial this film was, especially now that what it was warning against seems so remote. An undoubted masterpiece. It's interesting that Crowther says he doesn't know what the film is trying to prove. I think he knows exactly what the film proves...he just doesn't feel comfortable with what it has to say.Stanley Kubrick's new film, called Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, is beyond any question the most shattering sick joke I've ever come across. And I say that with full recollection of some of the grim ones I've heard from Mort Sahl, some of the cartoons I've seen by Charles Addams, and some of the stuff I've read in Mad magazine.
For this brazenly jesting speculation of what might happen within the Pentagon and within the most responsible council of the President of the United States if some maniac Air Force general should suddenly order a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union is at the same time one of the cleverest and most incisive satiric thrusts at the awkwardness and folly of the military that has ever been on the screen. It opened yesterday at the Victoria and the Baronet.
My reaction to it is quite divided, because there is so much about it that is grand, so much that is brilliant and amusing, and much that is grave and dangerous.
On the one hand, it cuts right to the soft pulp of the kind of military mind that is lost from all sense of reality in a maze of technical talk, and it shows up this type of mentality for the foolish and frightening thing it is.
In a top-level Air Force general, played by George C. Scott with a snarling and rasping volubility that makes your blood run cold, Mr. Kubrick presents us with a joker whose thinking is so involved with programs and cautions and suspicions that he is practically tied in knots.
It is he who is most completely baffled, bewildered, and paralyzed when word comes through to Washington that a general in the Strategic Air Command has sent a wing of bombers off to drop bombs and that the planes cannot be recalled. It is he who has to answer to the President for this awesome "accident" when the President gathers his council in the War Room at the Pentagon. And it is he who looks the most unstable and dubious in the cause of peace when it begins to appear that the Russians have a retaliatory "doomsday device."
Some of the conversations in that War Room are hilarious, shooting bright shafts of satire through mounds of ineptitude. There is, best of all, a conversation between the President and an unseen Soviet Premier at the other end of a telephone line that is a titanic garble of nuttiness and platitudes.
Funny, too, in a mad way, is the behavior of the crew in one of the planes of the airborne alert force ordered to drop the bomb. The commander is a Texan who puts on a cowboy hat when he knows the mission is committed. Slim Pickens plays this role. He and Keenan Wynn as a foggy colonel are the funniest individuals in the film.
As I say, there are parts of this satire that are almost beyond compare.
On the other hand, I am troubled by the feeling, which runs all through the film, of discredit and even contempt for our whole defense establishment, up to and even including the hypothetical Commander in Chief.
It is all right to show the general who starts this wild foray as a Communist-hating madman, convinced that a "Red conspiracy" is fluoridating our water in order to pollute our precious body fluids. That is pointed satire, and Sterling Hayden plays the role with just a right blend of wackiness and meanness to give the character significance.
But when virtually everybody turns up stupid or insane—or, what is worse, psychopathic—I want to know what this picture proves. The President, played by Peter Sellers with a shiny bald head, is a dolt, whining and unavailing with the nation in a life-or-death spot. But worse yet, his technical expert, Dr. Strangelove, whom Mr. Sellers also plays, is a devious and noxious ex-German whose mechanical arm insists on making the Nazi salute.
And, oddly enough, the only character who seems to have much common sense is a British flying officer, whom Mr. Sellers—yes, he again—plays.
The ultimate touch of ghoulish humor is when we see the bomb actually going off, dropped on some point in Russia, and a jazzy sound track comes in with a cheerful melodic rendition of "We'll Meet Again Some Sunny Day." Somehow, to me, it isn't funny. It is malefic and sick.
I'd like to try a film experiment. I am going to create a movie that has some stuff that kinda holds together into something resembling a plot, and at the end, I will just throw in a ton of freaky images filmed very slowly that really has no point or connection in my own mind. Then I will see what those that love 2001 and The Fountain can make of it.jacob Raver, sinTempter wrote:I've read that Tarkovsky doesn't bully the audience into thinking or feeling a certain way, and he doesn't...but Kubrick didn't telegraph philosophy through his character's dialogue, and that among a couple other things, is why I believe 2001 is a superior work, though Solyaris is superb in it's own right.
fasntastic post.Montresor wrote:Very true. It's deliberate, of course. All the humans in that movie deliver their lines in monotones, displaying very little emotion for the most part. Like the machines which assist and advance them, humanity has become robotic. HAL is the only 'character' whose personality develops in the film . . . a deliberate irony that needs no elaboration. It is only with the evolution climax that we see a hint of humanity being reborn, and evolving into something greater (much like the apes at the start of the feature).
All in all, 2001 is one of the greatest triumphs of cinematic art of all time. The only science fiction movies which rival its beauty, depth, and originality are Tarkovsky's Stalker and Solaris (the Russian original), in my opinion.
Re: Strangelove, for the first half of the year I taught American History Through Film at a university. One of the films we considered was Strangelove. I dug out an old review by Bosley Crowther (uggh!) to put the film's reception in context in 1964:
I think we can sometimes forget just how controversial this film was, especially now that what it was warning against seems so remote. An undoubted masterpiece. It's interesting that Crowther says he doesn't know what the film is trying to prove. I think he knows exactly what the film proves...he just doesn't feel comfortable with what it has to say.Stanley Kubrick's new film, called Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, is beyond any question the most shattering sick joke I've ever come across. And I say that with full recollection of some of the grim ones I've heard from Mort Sahl, some of the cartoons I've seen by Charles Addams, and some of the stuff I've read in Mad magazine.
For this brazenly jesting speculation of what might happen within the Pentagon and within the most responsible council of the President of the United States if some maniac Air Force general should suddenly order a nuclear attack on the Soviet Union is at the same time one of the cleverest and most incisive satiric thrusts at the awkwardness and folly of the military that has ever been on the screen. It opened yesterday at the Victoria and the Baronet.
My reaction to it is quite divided, because there is so much about it that is grand, so much that is brilliant and amusing, and much that is grave and dangerous.
On the one hand, it cuts right to the soft pulp of the kind of military mind that is lost from all sense of reality in a maze of technical talk, and it shows up this type of mentality for the foolish and frightening thing it is.
In a top-level Air Force general, played by George C. Scott with a snarling and rasping volubility that makes your blood run cold, Mr. Kubrick presents us with a joker whose thinking is so involved with programs and cautions and suspicions that he is practically tied in knots.
It is he who is most completely baffled, bewildered, and paralyzed when word comes through to Washington that a general in the Strategic Air Command has sent a wing of bombers off to drop bombs and that the planes cannot be recalled. It is he who has to answer to the President for this awesome "accident" when the President gathers his council in the War Room at the Pentagon. And it is he who looks the most unstable and dubious in the cause of peace when it begins to appear that the Russians have a retaliatory "doomsday device."
Some of the conversations in that War Room are hilarious, shooting bright shafts of satire through mounds of ineptitude. There is, best of all, a conversation between the President and an unseen Soviet Premier at the other end of a telephone line that is a titanic garble of nuttiness and platitudes.
Funny, too, in a mad way, is the behavior of the crew in one of the planes of the airborne alert force ordered to drop the bomb. The commander is a Texan who puts on a cowboy hat when he knows the mission is committed. Slim Pickens plays this role. He and Keenan Wynn as a foggy colonel are the funniest individuals in the film.
As I say, there are parts of this satire that are almost beyond compare.
On the other hand, I am troubled by the feeling, which runs all through the film, of discredit and even contempt for our whole defense establishment, up to and even including the hypothetical Commander in Chief.
It is all right to show the general who starts this wild foray as a Communist-hating madman, convinced that a "Red conspiracy" is fluoridating our water in order to pollute our precious body fluids. That is pointed satire, and Sterling Hayden plays the role with just a right blend of wackiness and meanness to give the character significance.
But when virtually everybody turns up stupid or insane—or, what is worse, psychopathic—I want to know what this picture proves. The President, played by Peter Sellers with a shiny bald head, is a dolt, whining and unavailing with the nation in a life-or-death spot. But worse yet, his technical expert, Dr. Strangelove, whom Mr. Sellers also plays, is a devious and noxious ex-German whose mechanical arm insists on making the Nazi salute.
And, oddly enough, the only character who seems to have much common sense is a British flying officer, whom Mr. Sellers—yes, he again—plays.
The ultimate touch of ghoulish humor is when we see the bomb actually going off, dropped on some point in Russia, and a jazzy sound track comes in with a cheerful melodic rendition of "We'll Meet Again Some Sunny Day." Somehow, to me, it isn't funny. It is malefic and sick.
Jesus Christ, do you ever think about not getting so worked up over a movie you don't like?jacob Raver, sinTempter wrote:***WARNING: The following is a very negative, reactionary and emotional RANT***Spoiler
I just tried to watch 2010. F*CK EVERYONE INVOLVED with THIS FILM! -- Revive HAL? ... possibly the greatest death scene in cinema history and one of it's most memorable characters? negated to make a 2001 for dummies? ?? Are you kidding? Why did Kurbrick allow this, why did Clarke allow this, or write it? It's a travesty!!! Why not just pull 2001 and burn every copy? It's nearly the same thing!?!
It's well acted and well shot, there's some witty dialogue, but overall the dialogue is expositional garbage thinly veiled by decent characters and situational conversation. I had to turn it off after the Russians started expositioning the 'political' happenings on earth, after the SAL dialogue which was also exposition, after the opening scene which was also exposition. Let's just explain everything instead of developing a story. Ugg!!! Wtf?! Oh well...I know the better parts are probably later on in the film, but if you're going to start this bad, with such a blasphemous, money=grubbing, "we don't give a sh*t about the initial film, we just want to make some money" Hollywood fagettry...it's not as bad as the initial parts of Ghostbusters 2, but it's almost...
Sorry to those that like this film...but it's truly disgusting existence is...
...I mean, the book was really good (according to my dad)...and Clarke's a decent writer, but this ain't Clarke...and this ain't Kubrick...it's like Jaws meets Day of the Dolphin meets Alien, just without the scariness, suspense or good script!
Again...I know some people like this film, and can get past the exposition, or at least the first half of the film...sorry if I've offended you...it's just (sigh)...this films existence is just...wrong.
As has General Literature Discussion with the Lovecraft thread. Some really decent posts being made.StevieG wrote:Flicks has come alive!!
I don't have the reverence for 2001 that most people seem to have, but otherwise I agree with your assessment.matrixman wrote:Your review made me chuckle...I mean in a good way. You call it as you see it, and I have to respect that.
I like 2010, but I don't feel offended by your comments about the film, because I think I understand where you're coming from. I try not to compare 2010 directly with 2001 (I know that's next to impossible). As Cag said in an earlier post, 2010 is more of a "traditional" movie, with conventional exposition. I'm able to enjoy it as such. It's different enough from 2001, in every way, that I think it has its own identity. I give Peter Hyams credit for "daring" to set up shop in the world Kubrick created. Given how much Hyams worked under the shadow of Kubrick and 2001, I don't think he did too badly. Does 2010 scale the same heights as 2001? Nope. Kubrick's movie was a "once-in-a-lifetime" thing, for me at least. In my eyes, very few movies - sci fi or otherwise - have measured up to 2001 in the three decades since I first saw it. 2010 certainly didn't blow my mind as 2001 did. But I saw 2010 as a plucky movie that went about its own way, doing its own thing.
As for Kubrick's reaction to 2010...that's a good question. I've read various Kubrick interviews (rare as they are), but I don't recall him ever having offered an opinion on 2010, at least not in print. I'm sure he deliberately withheld saying anything. If anything, he may have sympathized with Hyams as a fellow filmmaker. On the other hand, Kubrick had ordered all the blueprints, props and models from 2001 destroyed precisely because he didn't want them turning up in another movie. (Personally, as a movie buff and especially as a fan of 2001, I thought that was an appalling, overly paranoid act on Kubrick's part.)
When Arthur C. Clarke published 2010: Odyssey Two in 1982, he phoned Stanley Kubrick, and jokingly said, "Your job is to stop anybody making it so I won't be bothered."[5] MGM made a deal to make the film, but Kubrick had no interest in directing it. Peter Hyams, however, was interested in making 2010 and he approached both Clarke and Kubrick for their blessing:
"I had a long conversation with Stanley and told him what was going on. If it met with his approval, I would do the film; and if it didn't, I wouldn't. I certainly would not have thought of doing the film if I had not gotten the blessing of Kubrick. He's one of my idols; simply one of the greatest talents that's ever walked the earth. He more or less said, 'Sure. Go do it. I don't care.' And another time he said, 'Don't be afraid. Just go do your own movie.'"
I'm a psychologist, so I have a lot of understanding on personality. I hate to tell you this but the Enneagram 'test' is considered not a valid or reliable way to test people - their personalities or reactions. To narrow people into three groups is far too simplistic. Now my response is probably to say that your enneagram system is spot on. But you're dealing with internet personalities, and judging people by posts is simply inaccurate.jacob Raver, sinTempter wrote:Take a look at how each reacted to my post, then read up...I'd bet it's a dead ringer. Not to corner each person, but it's always interesting to me how people react and why.