SPECTACLE
Mr Kubrick's masterpiece, in retrospect.
Anecdotes, Explanations and The Kubrick Factor.
Mr Kubrick's masterpiece, in retrospect.
Anecdotes, Explanations and The Kubrick Factor.
Why is 2001 so important to me that I have voluntarily given up almost all of my "spare" time since late 1995, and travelled half way round the world, to write about it here on the Web? This page may give you some idea.
 | Still finding things to say | | Origins | | Roots and branches | | Accomplishments... |
| ...or disappointments? | | Facets of understanding | | Move ahead... |
If you came across someone who spent time thinking and writing about a film they first saw when it was released 30 years ago, you would probably wonder what was missing in their lives. What could possibly be left to say after so much time?
In my case, a larger- than- average Web- site- full, with as much again contributed by readers. I do not believe that everything that could be said about "2001: A Space Odyssey" ever will be said. By the time you finish reading this multi- page World Wide Web site - take as long as you like - you may understand why, in the present, there is more to be said about the film than there has ever been before, and that in another 30 years there will be even more still left unsaid.
Why? It is impossible to calculate how many people must have seen the film since it first came out, and for every one of them the film has a different significance and meaning. There would not be enough words in the universe to express all their thoughts adequately.
Stanley Kubrick ensured immortality for 2001 by his refusal to be drawn into the conventional Hollywood script machine with its assembly- line approach to storyline production - "this is part 3, so we must be up to sub- plot number 87, quick, set the lights up in the bedroom, and make sure the stunt drivers are ready for tomorrow morning". Time for eyes to glaze over. The "meaning" of 2001 is hotly debated to this day. As this is one of its great attractions, I have taken pains to explain that, while this site is based on what the experience meant to me, I get a real kick out of having other people tell me what it meant for them. As a result of that, I am delighted to be able to add lots of other views to this site, and behind the scenes get involved in some wonderful electronic dialogues. Some agree with what I say, some disagree. That's the way I like it, it's the way it should be.
It means, though, that if you are reading this expecting to finally have all the secrets revealed about what Kubrick and Clarke were actually trying to tell us, you may as well stop now. I have no "inside scoop" to reveal, and neither does anyone else. What started me off was my view that, despite all that has been said and written about 2001 over the years, I had not become aware of anyone telling it the way I saw it. I have some difficulty at times convincing people that, at the time I wrote most of what is in these pages, I had never owned, nor had I ever even read, a single book about 2001. What you have in this site is all original, thoughts that I dragged around the world inside my head for nearly 30 years, and eventually laid out because technology (the Web) made it possible for "ordinary" people to take part, instead of standing on the edge picking holes in other people's efforts. If I write what anybody else has written, I can guarantee that it is all down to coincidence. References to other views are only what I have picked up casually along the way, or have been brought to my attention since this site opened.
My original starting point was everyone's favourite computer, the HAL 9000. Not for what "he" was made of, or whatever power source made him tick, or anything else mundane and technical and quantifiable, but because of "his" relationships with his fellow, human, travellers through space. It seemed unfair to me that everyone had the idea that Hal was crazy, coasted through the Solar System making mistakes all over the place, got all twisted inside because people fed him misleading or ambiguous information, killed people off during moments of boredom or loss of confidence. What made Hal do such things? Was he a "bad" computer? An electronic psychopath? I never thought so, even back in 1968 when I first became a part of the 2001 experience. Ever exasperated by the enthusiasm with which so many people embrace the superficial and the trivial, in my Hal! page, I share my thoughts about what Hal did, and why he might have done it.
2001 is far more than one computer, however sophisticated this particular one might be. Other writers have concentrated on Hal, but in this site you will find references to just about everything that occurs in the movie, all done in a way that is intended to leave your wonder about the film, not just unspoilt, but if possible enhanced.
It is also something of a personal tribute, a way of thanking the two people who, in the mid- 1960s, set out to change our perspective on what is possible in the name of science- fiction cinema, and in so doing influenced my life and the way I think about it. Stanley Kubrick and Arthur C Clarke taught me the meaning of the word "possibilities". They showed me that it is alright to ask questions, and not necessarily know all the answers. In something over two hours of the most beautiful images I have ever seen on a movie screen, they taught me a lesson that I am still learning from. "2001: A Space Odyssey" is still considered by many, including myself, as the only nearest thing to a true science- fiction movie ever made. And much, much more.
Checkpoint.
The 30th anniversary of "2001: A Space Odyssey" can be made to coincide with different events, depending on your viewpoint. The first stirrings of the project started in 1964, when Kubrick and Clarke first spoke about the idea. I sat down to start writing these words (and have hardly got up since) at a time that coincides almost exactly with the 30th anniversary of the commencement of shooting. Jeremy Bernstein, a Professor of Physics and Staff Member on The New Yorker, has written that: "On December 29, 1965, shooting of the film began, and in early March the company reached the most intricate part of the camerawork, which was to be done in the interior of a giant centrifuge" (quote taken from Bernstein's Profile of Stanley Kubrick, published in The New Yorker while 2001 was in production, and reproduced in Jerome Agel's "The Making of Kubrick's 2001" (see my "2001 through Other Eyes" page). Incidentally, if it sounds strange for a scene that appears half way through the film to have been shot so soon after commencement, bear in mind that the shooting schedule bore no relation to the final sequence of scenes. On day 1 of shooting, Kubrick was working on the T.M.A.-1 set - the monolith in the excavation).
This is precisely the period, 30 years later, that saw me collect and type in all the thoughts I had amassed about the film through almost the whole of that period.
For Kubrick, Clarke and their colleagues at the time, it must have been an exciting and pressurising, and often wearying and exasperating, experience that occupied them for around four years. For us looking back, it takes on the aura of something almost magical, given what we now know about the outcome of their labours. What wouldn't we give, to be able to go back in time and stand in the studios observing all that was happening! It seems to be a characteristic of being that you never appreciate things in the present, only the past.
Public awareness of the film goes back beyond its theatre release in 1968. Some time in the previous two years, a full page ad appeared in one or more of Fleet Street's weekend colour magazines. I recall it featured a picture of some galaxy or other (Andromeda, perhaps?), with a terse message informing us that Stanley Kubrick had commenced production of "2001: A Space Odyssey" for MGM. (The title was changed at some point from "Journey Beyond The Stars", but my recollection is that the "real" title was already being used at this time).
How little did anyone suspect what that message would lead to! I had never seen the like of such an announcement before, and have never done so since - I have never even seen it reproduced in any book about 2001. Something must have clicked with me even at that early stage, before the details about the project became widely known, because I tore out that page and kept it for many years. Why? That's a question I honestly cannot answer, beyond it being interesting and a bit mysterious for a youngster mad keen on stars. One email sent to me referred to Patrick Moore, a renowned British astronomer and broadcaster whose enthusiasm was infectious for many like myself. Perhaps it was his fault. It is hard, too, for anyone today to fully understand the sense of awe and optimism that accompanied the Apollo missions and the yearnings of, perhaps, the first race in the universe to set foot on a world other than their own planet.
Predictably, now I want to find the advert it is nowhere to be found. I cannot recall the exact date when it was published - I have made enquiries, with no result - and that small piece of history must have been consigned to scrap a long time ago. A shame, as I have been careful to keep such mementos as the original cinema programme.
The experience begins...
On April 11th 1968, "2001: A Space Odyssey" opened at the Casino cinema in Old Compton Street. This was London, right in the middle of the glory days of the sixties. The fact that I can remember them at all is proof to some that I never really had the right attitude towards them, but at least I am still here in one piece. I carry memories of some who didn't get to see much of the seventies (they may not have thought they missed much, if they had found a way of looking in on what was going on, and it has not got a lot better since).
Others whose words you can read elsewhere in this Web site have recorded their first experiences of "2001: A Space Odyssey" around the world, but my first venture to see the film that created so much controversy came a little after the first rush of thrill- seekers and light- show trippers. The experience made such an impact on me that I was back the following week to book the same seat for the Saturday matinee performance, each week for that and the next three weeks. Yes, it's true, I was one of those long- haired weirdos who couldn't get enough of the film that made all other films look as though they weren't really trying (and, no, I didn't sit in the middle of the front row - somewhere near the back was fine by me, where no-one could see me goggling). Five visits to a leading London cinema in the space of a month. I couldn't afford to do it now.
But then, an accident of birth and geography meant that, while others were risking life and limbs in Vietnam, or taking the acid test on the west coast, I was a hippy art student living in an outer London suburb on a public further education grant. Who cares, if I couldn't afford to eat for the rest of that term / semester. I had no particular responsibilities, only myself to pay for, and it was the most educational thing I ever did in my student years. If you think I ought to pay the money back, relax - the tax system has taken more than enough care of that (and ensured my inability to afford such extravagance now).
 | Just closing off a link here, the Casino, which was the site of London's first Cinerama installation in 1954, is still going strong as the Prince Edward Theatre, frequently staging musical shows. In August 1998 I paid my first visit since those early days to take a few snapshots, and it was not difficult to mentally replace those "Showboat" hoardings with their 2001 equivalents. For a moment I was sure I caught a glimpse of myself in younger days moving in the shadow of those arches... how well I remembered that sense of disorientation on stepping back onto the London pavement while my mind yet lingered with Dave beyond the infinite... but it must have been a trick of the sunlight shining on these later times... |
 | Those viewings, though, got me hooked to the extent that I must
have seen the film at least 40 times since in theatres wherever I have found myself at the time. If I was there,
and
2001 happened to be showing, I saw it. Prior to Cyberfest (Urbana, Illinois, March 1997), the most recent theatrical screening for me was in Sydney's Cremorne Hayden Orpheum cinema, a magnificently restored classic of pre- war cinema architecture that is worth paying to see even if you don't watch whatever film happens to be on. That was the 70mm reprint of 2001, accompanied by a rare big- screen showing of Forbidden Planet which made use of a print so fresh it looked, and sounded, as though it had come out of the studio that very day. Quite an afternoon! The Hayden people in fact hold all rights to 2001 in Australia through to 1999, and since Cyberfest have continued to bless Sydney and other cities with further releases of 2001. Last time around, I took advantage of the opportunity to take my first look at a 70mm projection room, ready to run 2001. You can see the results in my 2001 at the Orpheum page in the Components section of this site. The print of 2001 shown in this case was virtually brand new, and looked as spectacular as I had ever seen on the big screen. Many thanks to John Wilson and the folks at the Orpheum for their hospitality while preparing for another showing. |
The universe, in a cassette.
Now, I can watch the film as many times as I like using my own VCR. For many years, every time I watched 2001 in the cinema I yearned for some way of capturing those stunning images to take home with me. At one time, I toyed with the idea of taking photographs in the cinema (I have heard from several people who did exactly that). Now, I can stop the film at any point I like and gaze at those scenes for as long as I choose.
The video starts promisingly, with the full overture intact and wide- screen opening titles. Then, disaster. The wide- screen format vanishes. This makes a complete nonsense of Kubrick's meticulous visual compositions and renders many scenes quite pointless. 2001, of course, is available in widescreen format in both video tape and laserdisc form. I have left the complaints about the "standard" video in as a warning to potential buyers as much as anything else.
The big version.
In contrast to the disappointment of the thin video, one of the main reasons why 2001 was such a powerful experience when it opened was the fact that it was shot in Super Panavision and made full use of the huge, curved Cinerama screen. It is hardly surprising that its effect is lessened somewhat by squeezing the whole thing into a VHS cassette.
It is also a shame that opportunities to see the film in the form in which it was originally screened are now extremely rare, though I suspect less so now than was the case a few years ago. Most people now rely for their introduction to 2001 on the video, which makes it surprising that it still manages to attract such a following. In 1968, the viewer was almost literally out there alongside Dave, Frank and Hal.
No wonder it created such an impression at the time. People who have never seen it in that form can barely imagine the power of those images at full scale. It really is impossible to describe it adequately, although Brian Wallen has emailed me with a pretty accurate phrase: "Sitting anywhere in the first ten rows from the screen, you had image to the limits of your peripheral vision". Imagine what that means, the next time you watch that long sweep between the wheels of the space station.
Sound and vision together were like a tangible cocoon, the cinema was filled with something more than just air, and the images were so pin- sharp, even on such a huge scale, it almost seemed you were looking through a microscope at every part of that enormous screen. (A 70mm film provides around four times as much surface area in each frame as a "standard" format, so it is hardly surprising Kubrick was able to capture so much detail). My advice to anyone who has not seen it in that form is to never rest until you have found a way of doing so. If you think it's impressive on a television screen, you have only had a fleeting glimpse of how impressive it really is. If I had my way, 2001 would be on permanent show at a Cinerama- equipped cinema, and tour companies would be offering package deals to get there.
Who actually wrote 2001? We are always told that the literary roots, such as they are, lie in Clarke's short story, "The Sentinel". You can see details of the first publication of this work in my page,"From Pulp to Love and Death - Arthur C. Clarke's Odyssey". This very short story has an ancient crystal pyramid on the moon as a sign that someone was around a while before Neil Armstrong got there. That's it, end of story. It is a very thin thread indeed which links this idea with all that occurs in 2001.
In the public libraries of the time, I zeroed in on those unmissable yellow Gollancz covers and avidly read all of Clarke's classics - " A Fall of Moondust", and the rest (it would be an interesting research subject to examine the effect of Gollancz on the people who grew up with their incomparable science- fiction catalogue). "The Sentinel" would have been very hard to pick as the one out of all his stories that would have had such far- reaching effect.
"2001: A Space Odyssey" was the result of the Clarke / Kubrick partnership. Given that one deals in pictures, the other in words, the implication has to be that Kubrick had most of the visions, Clarke perhaps acting more as scientific advisor, chronicler and devil's advocate. Now I have thought about this for a long time, I am not so sure whether the distinction would have been that clear. It's too easy to pigeonhole people, something that goes on far too much, and I now tend to think of 2001 much more as a collaboration in a real sense, of the two men sounding off each other and both rising to the challenge. Clarke was obviously eager to see a film that had scientific credibility, as a new medium in which to shape his ideas. Kubrick knew just how to use Clarke's scientific insights in his cinematic art.
Clarke, sans Kubrick, has since given us "2010: Odyssey Two", "2061: Odyssey Three" and "3001: The Final Odyssey", and he freely admits that none of them was intended as a strict sequel to 2001. It is more a case of using ideas from one story, and following them in their own right within the loose framework of dates and characters already established. Heywood Floyd, Hal, Dave and the monoliths are constants, or rather they are elements that figure in all three novels, but that is about as far as Clarke himself pushes the connections. He gives us a Heywood Floyd in 2061 who makes even the most recent version of James T Kirk look positively youthful, something that I refuse to let interfere with the Heywood Floyd who lives on in my head as he was in 2001 (high fives to actor William Sylvester - does anyone know what became of him?).
Peter Hyams turned 2010 into a movie. Although he too worked with Clarke (a collaboration recorded in their joint book "The Odyssey File", which you can read more about in "The Odyssey through Other Eyes", along with many other 2001- related works), Hyams was rather let down by bold claims about his film being a sequel to Kubrick's, when it bore no relation to Kubrick at all. 2010 has its own fans, though, including myself, who don't see why their enjoyment of the one should stop them enjoying the other. In fact, I have been made aware that a large number of 2001 fans came to it via their liking for 2010.
I look at 2010 in some detail in my 2010 page, but the whole idea of sequels and links seems rather an unnecessary diversion to me. Forestalling a remark I make there, any one of these books / stories / films / whatever should be considered on its own merits. My conclusion is that they are all good enough to pass inspection individually, and the sequel business just confuses the issue.
I do not know of any plans to film 2061 or 3001, though I have nightmares of seeing one of them turn up as a TV mini- series.
Whatever the truth may be about the background and collaboration, this site is more to do with sight, if you get my meaning. It is the film, not the book, that has generated so much lasting fascination. That does not imply Kubrick is in, Clarke is out. I have stressed the collaboration aspect as a way of making it clear that both men together gave us the experience. I have tried several times in this site to find the right way of sharing credit between them, and even toyed with the idea of some crummy joint term as a way of meaning them both, without having to type out "Kubrick and Clarke" every five minutes. You'll be relieved to know I rejected the idea.
What it means, though, is that, most times, when I mention Kubrick you should take it to mean "Kubrick and Clarke", and when I mention Clarke it's "Clarke and Kubrick". If I actually mean one of them on their own, you should be able to figure it out for yourself.
The film is the key to what I write. The books clarify and explain certain things, but if it was not in the film the chances are that it is not mentioned here. That's not a slight on Clarke. That's entertainment!
Kubrick's (try it out now, to get the feel early on - that is "Kubrick and Clarke's") masterpiece is so rich in detail and meaning that I spot something new every time I watch 2001. More than once in this site, I refer to details that are still on my list of things to check out in 2001 - yes, even after all this time the job is not finished! Some of the responses I have received (which you can read in the Viewpoints pages) have suggested things that had not even occurred to me. They may be obscure physical details I have never taken much notice of, or threads of meaning that have occurred to me since the previous showing.
Every frame is full of imagery, every element is exquisitely positioned and lit, every visual proportion is exact. There is no denying that Kubrick got a few things wrong, but I imagine even Michelangelo got a few brush strokes out of place. Given what he accomplished, they are really not important. If you are desperate, you can find out about Kubrick's mistakes elsewhere on the Internet.
Oh! The ennui.
Others found 2001 boring, yet one of Kubrick's unique gifts is his ability to hold, focus and re- focus attention, all in the space of a split second. For example:
| Hal's "just a moment...just a moment". What's coming? What is going to happen? Hal is being exact, as always (a remark that gives you a pointer as to what you will find in the Hal! page!). We do, indeed, only have to wait a moment to find out what is on his mind, but it is still long enough for all kinds of half- thoughts and suspicions to occur. |
| The fleeting suspicion of movement in Frank's spacepod as he moves towards the AE-35 unit, before the rotation becomes obvious. He's already shown us this bit, with Dave, so what's new? Is what I'm thinking really going to happen? |
There are also examples throughout the film of incidents of striking effect, which Kubrick allows to occur without so much as a trace of stage- managed emphasis. I can think of no other director who does it this way. In just about every other film ever made, similar incidents would have been so important to the overall plot that much of the budget would have been used up making sure there was no possibility of anyone failing to realise their significance. Kubrick turns it over to us. If we choose not to see, then we have no- one to blame but ourselves for missing out.
For example, in one brief scene Discovery is small and distant. In the foreground, rocks tumble through the vacuum of space. Preconditioning makes us tense. Will there be a follow- up scene where they come crashing through the hull of Discovery? There would in any other film. The scene would have cost too much for them not to do something drastic, and why show it if it was not going to lead to anything? In 2001, the moment passes. We are left only with another lasting image of the alien environment that man is venturing into.
That scene is one of many that made such a huge impact on me the very first time I saw the film. I left the cinema with my brain dancing in a way that only occurs on the rare occasions in life when you experience something that has no precedent. Funny thing, though. The scene has been in my head all that time, yet it took an email from a reader to suggest that its primary purpose was to show us whereabouts on its voyage the Discovery was at that time - "passing through the asteroid belt (between Mars and Jupiter)". Never even occurred to me.
Too hasty, but in good company.
For 2001 fans, there was never an issue with "slowness". The sheer scale of what Kubrick achieved, and the magnificence of his depictions, made every moment one to be savoured. Am I alone in accusing him of showing unnecessary haste at times? He is not alone.
| Tolkien made "Lord of the Rings" too short for many readers, who find the return from Middle Earth to a reality that seems a poor substitute a harsh reward indeed for accompanying Sam and his companions through three volumes of adventure to that final evening, home again at last, in Bywater. |
| Mervyn Peake leads us through the dark, unforgettable labyrinth of Gormenghast, a world without parallel in literary history, surrounding us with language, intrigue and visions at once grotesque and majestic, yet never allowing us to rest for long enough to relish and unravel in full the complex subtleties of its inspired cast of characters. |
Art even in death.
It is hardly fair to pick a single scene out of 2001 to represent the entire experience, but what the heck. Have a look at the scene outside Discovery, when Dave is waiting for the doors to open. There is the pod, with arms outstretched, cradling the limp body of Frank. The colours, the lighting, the placement of elements, and more than anything else the sheer power of what the scene implies even if you know nothing about the film, so poignantly held for a moment or two in complete silence, leave no room for doubt that film- making at its highest level is a true art form (though the narrow- margin video is a bit like chopping both sides off the Mona Lisa).
Men of violence.
Writing this essay gave me a chance to reflect on aspects of 2001 that had never particularly struck me before, and to my knowledge have never been examined. One reason for this is that, back in 1968, there was no widespread concern about them, whereas now they have become much more prominent in our awareness. Another reason is that, although Kubrick never set out to make statements outside the scope of science- fiction, we are less willing now to accept this as a restriction on the lessons we feel entitled to draw from his or anybody else's films.
The two most significant of these issues are male dominance, and violence.
I look at the violence question in the "Legacy" page. Here, I want to reflect on a charge often levelled at Kubrick, that 2001 gives us almost exclusively a male- oriented vision of the future. Women are there doing what in 1968 were considered to be womanly things - hostesses, receptionists. However, on the orbiting Hilton Heywood Floyd converses with a party of four Russians, three of whom are female scientists, while in the briefing room at Clavius Floyd makes his presentation to an audience of, presumably, senior people, which includes both men and women. Considering the conventional social environment of the mid sixties, it might be said that Stanley Kubrick was actually ahead of his time in his portrayal of women in positions of authority.
Do-it-yourself emoticons.
Make the most of this emoticon :-). There are no more. Feel free to smile, fall asleep or throw your PC out of the window while you read through this, but do not get angry or upset on my account. Life's too short, and nothing written here is intended to offend anyone. If your view is different from mine, great!
One of a kind...
Despite all the imitations and homages, mostly the background scenery of film making and TV advertising that everyone takes for granted, there has never been another film like 2001. If you consider science- fiction as a category, then 2001 doesn't really fit. It categorises itself. If you consider 2001 to be science- fiction, then what do you call the rest?
...but one too many for some.
During 1995, a Trekker commented - unprompted by me - on his "disappointment" over 2001. I had a touch of the Sals (that remark is explained in the "2010" page). Before I could stop myself, I uncharacteristically blurted out that it was my all- time favourite film, when I would have done much better to use the remark as the opening for a sensible conversation. He was gracious enough not to pursue the point, and I lost a rare opportunity to discuss the film (as a taste of what is in the "Hal" page, I was caught a little like Dave after Hal's "just a moment...'. I could not think of a good way back to the opening of the conversation, to pursue the subject more usefully, until it was too late).
That remark was the key that finally unlocked the door in my mind, and led directly to the existence of what you are reading now. Almost as soon as it had been made, I realised exactly what I needed to do with all those 2001 thoughts, and it was soon afterwards that this Web site came into being.
It was also a reminder, though, of the reactions to 2001 that were so common for a long time after its release. Without wishing to dredge up too many depressing memories, here are two of them.
| It is a grandiose spectacle of the space age, full of hardware, its cast of characters so schematized that the most human being in it happens to be the computer HAL 9000. (Quote from "The Science Fiction Book An Illustrated History" by Franz Rottensteiner, published 1975 by Thames and Hudson, London). |
| ...the ultimate in special effects movies until 1977's Star Wars exposed it for what it really was - a special effects masterpiece in search of a plot. (Quote from "Encyclopaedia of Science Fiction", consultant editor Robert Holdstock, published 1978 by Octopus Books, London). |
The next - and last - one is reproduced in its entirety. It is hardly longer than a decent title itself. I don't have a reference for it, and don't have the heart to try and find it again.
| Astronauts investigating a puzzling lunar monolith must contend with HAL, an on-board computer trying to take control of their vessel... |
In fairness to the writers of the quotes I have used above, I freely admit to being selective in order to illustrate a point that is very well known - that 2001 was widely criticised, as is almost any departure from convention. The two books I have cited above, though, are both excellent, I thoroughly recommend them as entertaining and informative books which I still use frequently for reference and aides memoire. The same sources also have more respectful things to say. For example, Franz Rottensteiner precedes the quote above with this:
| ...2001 is a brilliant visual tour-de-force of space travel that gives its audience an almost religious experience, that cosmic feeling...the 'sense of wonder.' |
Plastic people.
Another frequent accusation about 2001 was that none of Kubrick's humans had any character, or warmth, the implication being that Kubrick was not much good at handling people. In reply to which, I merely run the video through to Frank's birthday greetings. Frank watches and listens without a flicker of emotion as his parents display the cake and sing "happy birthday". But see what Kubrick is showing us on that tiny, grainy monitor.
Two people, millions of miles distant, struggling to choke back emotions that are a mixture of pride, anguish, concern, relief, love... The weekly transmission has become the highlight of their lives (not that Frank has a birthday every week, but his parents leave him with "see you next Wednesday" - the birthday was a special occasion that Kubrick allowed us to eavesdrop on). Frank is their son. He is already far further from home than any human being has ever been before. They will never see him again.
Kubrick could have given us emoting humans standing on his head. They would have been as misplaced, incongruous and superfluous as any rumbling spaceship (just as they are in so many films that make a feature of them).
A number of thoughts have occurred to me over the years about why 2001 caused problems for so many people. What made 2001 so extraordinary?
For anyone born after about 1960, the impact of 2001 on its release is hard to imagine. 2001 was ground- breaking from start to finish. Kubrick showed us what it would be like on the moon before man ever landed there. Some wondered, subsequently, why we hadn't saved all the money and just stuck with 2001, a thought that I pick up in my own way in the Legacy page.
30 years have passed since 2001 was first shown. During that time, technology has progressed faster than at any other time in the earth's entire history, and yet the special effects have never been surpassed. Easier to create, cheaper perhaps (though films seem to go on getting more and more expensive), but never surpassed. That is worth thinking about for a moment.
To make the point even more strongly, these special effects were contemporary with Gemini and Apollo spaceflights. Have a look at a Gemini capsule, and then let your gaze move over to the space shuttle, to realise just how significant this dating is.
Now, compare 2001 with what had happened before. Only 15 years earlier - half the time that has passed since - what were considered to be science- fiction classics now strike us as quaint, naive and technically primitive. They are indeed classics in an entertainment sense, but the special effects were light- years removed from what Kubrick gave us.
Compare, too, 2001's special effects with those of its contemporaries, if you can think of any that bear comparison. Here are a few other sci-fi movies from much the same period (from the Encyclopaedia of Science Fiction, cited above). Barbarella. Planet of the Apes. Fahrenheit 451. The Forbin Project. The Green Slime (!). The Illustrated Man. King Kong Escapes (!!). Marooned. Moon Zero Two. THX 1138. Many of them have their own followings, and I'm happy to watch most of them myself when I have the chance, but see the problem when it comes to comparing Kubrick's special effects with anyone else's? There aren't any others.
Smashing barriers.
Remember when spaceships were "streamlined"? Kubrick and Clarke may have been the first - certainly among the first - to realise how nonsensical this was, and nobody has since been able to convince us that a spaceship should look any different. We expect spaceships to be bizarre- looking things cobbled together from the spare parts bin of a plastic kit manufacturer. They just don't look realistic otherwise.
Think, too, of Star Wars and Alien, both of which I refer to again later on. They came around ten years after 2001 (if you get my meaning), yet those dramatic scenes of vast spacecraft swooping past, from the unlikely vantage point of a viewer suspended in the middle of outer space, had already been done with greater authenticity by Kubrick, Clarke and their team. As others have remarked, Kubrick treated those impossible sound effects with the disdain they deserved - spaceships that rumble and thunder through empty space until the cinema shakes on its foundations. Kubrick used sound to reflect reality. He had much better ways of setting moods for movie goers (even though he used those same impossible viewpoints).
Neil Armstrong has been quoted as remarking on the curious sensation of blasting off the moon on the start of his return journey in silence, and the contrast between that and the noise and violence of a lift- off from Cape Canaveral. Nobody in Hollywood seems to have been listening, but the message had already been heard in the London MGM studios.
There is a fascination with huge scale, too, in pretty well all science- fiction movies, despite the fact that reality gives us quite a different view. Rockets whose origins still lie in the days of Titan and Saturn and suchlike are immense, but the only reason for that is to have the capacity for a big enough energy source to hurl men and machines into orbit. The actual bits that hold the people, in comparison, are tiny, cramped and austere, though the shuttle is no doubt luxurious compared to a Gemini capsule.
Since Discovery was built in space, there was no apparent reason for it to be so big, and I always wondered what was stowed away in all those "bits" that linked the front end with the back end (that's me speaking as someone who is definitely no rocket scientist, there is probably a highly technical term I should have used instead of "bits", and of course now I appreciate such things as the need to keep a human crew well clear of Discovery's potentially lethal power source, and to have a place to stow the plug spanners). Discovery, however, was a theatrical prop design in many ways, with its obvious similarity with the skeletal remains from which Moonwatcher selects the bone that will set evolution on a new course, so rationalising its design in terms of semi- fictional physics is not really that important.
Even so, it was Kubrick and Clarke who laid the groundwork for all of the man- outside- his- own- environment "realism" that is now expected by science- fiction movie fans (and simultaneously contradicted by the constant disregard for all the laws of physics that characterises so- called science- fiction films and series - they should more properly be classified as "fantasy").
The universe as moving wallpaper.
2001 had something in particular that no other film has ever been able to reproduce, partly because it was made during an unrepeatable period in history. In 1968, only a handful of people had made it into space. The rest of us just had to wonder what would be waiting for us "out there". Kubrick showed us something that was magnificent, stirring and full of mystery. Nobody had ever showed us its like before, and nobody has done so since in quite the same way. As others have described it to me, 2001 was an enigma, coming at a time when a generation that loved enigmas was growing up (and, having grown up, no longer had the time to waste on enigmas).
The only reason why most other films have tried to show us the universe is because they need backdrops for cop shows in space. It's all adrenalin, action and superheroes. But, by comparison to 2001, all those frantic action movies seem plain empty. Early 2001 audiences took away from the cinema a sense of optimism which is virtually non- existent in movies now. Sure, most people left scratching their heads and wondering what it was all about, but Kubrick was able to engender a lasting emotional response and effect without ever resorting to cuteness or being offensively (and patronisingly) confrontational. You don't need to rub people's faces in the mire to make them understand. If you do, you have a communication problem.
Kubrick's spacesuits were very distinctive, and turned up in an early episode of Babylon 5, of all things. I believe these were specially made copies, but I still do not know what the story was behind their use. All I do know is that the connection was so striking and unexpected I cannot remember what the rest of the show was about! The links to 2001 are plentiful even today, but rarely that obvious.
Too many questions, too few answers.
Film directors, by definition, tend to have (and need!) dominating personalities. They are the ones with the visions, and the drive to show them to us. The idea is not to make us think, but to impress us with trickery and illusion, and then reveal all the secrets at the end to make sure we understand how clever they have been.
For a lot of people, the fact that Kubrick left it up to us to work out our own answers was just not good enough. For others, it was that very thing that made 2001 a life changing event, and (unfortunately) caused some to heap ridicule on 2010. Recently, each film seems to have been released in two versions - the film itself, plus "the making of" version, which makes sure nothing is left to the imagination. I have mixed feelings about that. It is always interesting to know how things are done, but it gives me more satisfaction to see a film the way its director meant it to be seen, and reach an opinion on that basis.
Kubrick was a young man when he gave us 2001. Dismayed by its reception (according to observers, though he maintains that the changes he made were wholly within the scope of his own plans for the film), he immediately cut a number of shots out, which have never been seen since. So, in a sense, we have never since been able to see the film as originally conceived, only as it was amended to take account of views which were short- lived and unimportant.
Gift-wrap it, please.
Having paid good money for entertainment, some people want that entertainment to be packaged and delivered as one complete glob. Nobody's paying them to make a special effort. 2001 is almost unique in treating viewers as intelligent beings capable of working things out without instructions, frantic motion, semaphore signals and raucous sound effects. People in the '90s have grown accustomed to a world seen through racecam. All the thrills, spills and personal interaction are there, but at a nice, safe distance.
On the subject of reality removed, computer animated films are with us. In a hundred years time, will there be any such things as real film actors? In much less time than that, nobody will be able to tell the difference between film of a human actor, and a computer generated image, except that the artificial one will probably act more convincingly for less money. Thus will reality be separated from fiction by our very success in simulating reality!
Muppets r us.
Kubrick and Clarke demolished all the junk that had been fed to us in the name of science- fiction and made it look ridiculous, but there has been so much of it before and since 2001 that audiences today seem even more preconditioned about what to expect than they were at the time. Since 2001, we have had the apple- pie cuteness of E.T., the whizzing spaceships, pointy ears and funny glasses of Star Trek and an oversized reject from the Muppets (Chewbacca). I sometimes come across comments about how 2001 has influenced what has come since, but I see precious few signs of it. Not one film has attempted to pick up where Kubrick left off.
Commercially, you can understand why the studios should feel justified in ignoring him. They make their money regardless of laws of physics (in one sense, at least) or scientific integrity, in fact the less of that rubbish there is the more cash seems to flow in. Einstein is no friend of accountants. In the age of the information superhighway (terrible phrase, Bill, but at least I can't blame you for "network- centric"), people don't have time to work out meaning for themselves. If it doesn't come fully documented on a CD-rom with a guaranteed high return on investment, forget it.
It is often forgotten, though, that while Kubrick is such an individualist he is also highly successful at the box office. A rare talent in more ways than one! But it is a real shame that the trail he so laboriously and successfully blazed has never been followed by anyone else.
So far, I have told you about how I got started with 2001, given you some of my memories, put down my thoughts about some of the reactions to the film, and generally done some scene- setting.
I have not written anything much, though, about the film itself. That is about to change. In the next page ("Hal!") I get to grips with what actually appears on the screen, specifically to do with the HAL 9000 computer (which I call Hal throughout the essay) and its (his) relationships with human beings.
My interpretation of 2001, and Hal's behaviour in particular, is fundamentally different to any other interpretation that I have ever become aware of, including any that may have been intended by Clarke and Kubrick. I have gone into a lot of detail to explain what has led me to my own views and to make a convincing case for what I finally conclude about Hal.
It is entirely up to you whether you go along with what I write, or think it's a load of tripe. One respondent has commented that I showed them a Hal they never knew before. How about you?
Get yourself a cup of coffee, grab those stress pills and go for it.
All text: Copyright © 1996, 1997, 1998 by Underman