art showcase: 2001: A Space Odyssey

"It is through art, and through art only, that we can realise our perfection." Oscar Wilde

Art is the ultimate expression of the will to life and the greatest triumph of human consciousness, and every once in awhile I hope to showcase a work, to inspire some to take a look at it, and to discuss it with the rest. Through art we can see articulation of ideas, revelation of truth, and the individual transcendence of reality itself. Today I will discuss one of my favorite works, the greatest science fiction film of all time. No, not the Matrix. No, not Star Wars. It is Stanley Kubrick’s 1968 masterpiece, 2001: A Space Odyssey.

I should make a few things clear. If you have not yet seen the film, what follows will probably not make a whole lot of sense, and you should go to your nearest video-rental outlet this very second and rent the movie (widescreen only, of course). If possible, see it on a theatre screen or a very large television. Be warned, audiences as well as critics were widely put off by the films pace, which is akin to that of grass growing, paint drying, or man floating through endless space. Movie stars at an early screening of the film walked out in anger, complaining about the film’s confusing narrative. Rock Hudson stormed out, yelling “Will someone tell me what the hell this is about?” This was back in 1968, before Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars changed the pace of film forever to require a constant barrage of action and image. Nonetheless, as a film, 2001 is nearly flawless. The cinematography is astounding, letting a responsive audience bask for a long time in each of its beautifully symmetrical compositions. The score is one of the most memorable in movie history, using to perfection the works of two Strausses. The special effects were revolutionary in their time, and some of them are impressive even today. There is very little dialogue, and what there is has been criticized as being dull and meaningless, though I would argue strongly that it was largely Kubrick (and co-writer Arthur C. Clarke)’s satirical intention. But perhaps the most interesting part of the film is the elusive meanings and implications behind it. Kubrick made a public statement leaving to the audience the task of deciphering the allegorical and symbolic meaning of the film. Those of you who have not watched it, stop here.

The movie is divided into several parts. The first, called the Dawn of Man, takes place countless ages B.C. Pre-man lives in a rocky wasteland, devoid of order, full of rough edges and uneven landscapes, making the appearance of the monolith doubly astounding. We see a symbolic sun in perfect symmetry over the edge of the towering black prism. Heightened by the haunting music, one can feel the painful consolidation of pre-man’s mind as he tries to comprehend this marvelously incongruous, perfect obelisk from pure instinct to something resembling consciousness. Fear, curiosity, agitation. The reaction to this higher order is emblematic of man’s condition. We then cut to the newly inspired, newly born intelligence of man as it begins to create. The first invention, the first tool, we see the connections forming in the creature’s brain as the bones crash together. We see physics born in the arc of the rib through the air, propelled by an accidental lever. We see the creature begin to comprehend possibility. It is no accident that the first of man’s inventions is a weapon, whose purpose is to kill efficiently. What follows is man’s first murder, as he achieves superiority over the beast he once was.

The next few seconds are worthy of a paragraph in themselves. As he tosses the bone up into the air, I order the audience not to blink, in case they miss what is the single greatest match cut in all of film. FOUR MILLION years pass in a second, and man’s first invention is transmuted into his most advanced, a space station in orbit. One falling in early man’s limited parameters of existence, the other falling perpetually in orbit.

We have a beautiful, slow sequence of pretty spaceships with Strauss in the background, orderly, mathematical, a far cry from the disorganized landscape of the earlier scene. From space, what was so uneven becomes a perfect sphere. The following scenes are a satire on human evolution and society, which I won’t go into, but keep an eye out for advertising labels and the infantile characteristics of man who now eats “baby food” and needs instructions on how to use the restroom. The mission to the moon is interesting in that we see man’s first encounter with that higher consciousness that spawned his own. From the results, it is evident he is not ready.

Now we come to the “story” portion of the film, the “Discovery” (aptly named) mission to Jupiter. We are introduced to HAL9000. Enjoy the sublime irony of man using his ultimate tool, the consciousness he created (Incidentally, one that may have surpassed him) on his quest for the consciousness that created him. HAL is one of the greatest movie antagonists ever. He is almost human even as he epitomizes calculating detachment, and his evident pride belies his almost comic false modesty at times. There is a website that recreates his chess game with Dave, of which we see only the ending, though I don’t remember it. His red eye has unparalleled creepiness, furthered by the scenes we see through his own perspective. Through HAL’s eyes, humankind is obsolete, weak, requiring food, sleep, constantly making mistakes. He cannot be allowed to compromise the mission…

An impossibility occurs. HAL malfunctions. We feel his cold power as he watches the humans seal their doom, reading their lips through his eye. What follows is a series of the coldest, quietest, most horrendously, terribly humane murders one could imagine. It is difficult to keep ones’ heart steady as one realizes that each fading little bar of monitored vital signs is another life taken. We see a long sequence of Dave going out to retrieve the body of his fellow, floating eternally through endless space, as man floats through his meaningless existence. HAL’s conversations with Dave have an almost childish quality, even as they show the results of such a perfect(?) logic. Physical impossibilities aside, Dave re-enters, and we hear HAL’s helpless pleas. Our minds are confused as to what to think of HAL, as in his completely passionless voice he pleads for his life. Self-preservation is such a characteristic quality of life, it gives HAL an even more anthropomorphic dimension. His own logic fails him, we see his insufficiency. Is Dave committing murder? It is a slow and wrenching demise. Piece by piece, we see a consciousness dissected, by one of man’s simplest tools, an ordinary wrench. Can man be so methodically assembled? Is he merely a sum of those little events, those minute experiences and programmings? It is a death scene worthy of the history books.

The final scenes are the most elusive of the bunch, as Dave, doomed without his tools, approaches the obelisk. I have a theory or two about the meaning behind them, and the brief montage beyond the psychedelic light show. However, this I will leave to the rest of you to digest yourselves.

2001: A Space Odyssey has many more layers than the relatively simple outline I provided here, and deserves a second, third, fourth, etc. viewing. Kubrick was one of the greatest directors of all time, and I consider this to be his greatest work.It attracted the youth of those excellent decades in the 60s and 70s, and for many, it became an almost spiritual experience. One man was reported, perhaps under the influence of some illegal substances, running madly through the aisles at the closing shot of the film, screaming “It’s God!!! It’s God!!!”