K and I went to a few movies this week; kind of unprecedented, really. I also walked in on the 2nd half of a DVD screening of Twilight, which proved divisive in our household… the debate afterword exterminated our entire evening. But we shall not focus on that.
First was District 9, which was terrific and ultraviolent and completely satisfying. “More stressful than work even!” K exulted later. We loved the economical storytelling: No time is wasted explaining why the ship from V broke down over Johannesburg or why aliens were cruising over to begin with. It also doesn’t really explain why exactly the man’s hand is transforming into something nasty (whoops, spoiler!). No time for explanations, full speed ahead! No backstory, no problem…. Bravo!
Last night we caught a screening of a 70mm print of 2001, which K had never seen. It was beautiful and impenetrable, just like in 1968, no doubt. I did some reading online afterword when Karen was relentlessly demanding a literal interpretation of the film, and discovered that Clarke’s story, “The Sentinel,” which is what 2001 was based upon, is reportedly very clear about all of the weird and opaque story elements that populate the narrative, especially the last third.
From Wikipedia: “Clarke's novel explicitly identifies the monolith as a tool created by an alien race that has been through many stages of evolution, moving from organic forms, through biomechanics, and finally has achieved a state of pure energy. These aliens travel the cosmos assisting lesser species to take evolutionary steps. The novel explains the hotel room sequence as a kind of alien zoo—fabricated from information derived from intercepted television transmissions from Earth—in which Dave Bowman is studied by the invisible alien entities. Kubrick's film leaves all this unstated.”
I love that last line: Kubrick’s film leaves all this UNSTATED. I love that.
Kubrick to the world: “Fuck you!”
Too funny.
This film would never be made today… not even close.
What I really want to write about though, is Philip Kaufman’s “The Right Stuff,” which screened at the Aero last weekend. I was twelve when this came out in 1983 and probably watched it the following year on laserdisc.
I was quite shocked to be blown away by this movie. Three hours and fifteen minutes long and never a dull moment. Terrific writing, lush long-lens cinematography, an incredible ensemble of actors, wonderful documentary and stock footage, a great score, a lyrical side and an art film side as well, and most of all, a rowdy sense of humor that I did not remember at all. Who remembers that Jeff Goldblum and Harry Shearer are in this movie? Hilarous!
I did some reading after this as well, and discovered that Roger Ebert is a huge champion of this movie and included it in his Overlooked Film Festival. Ebert also gave Terry Gilliam’s Brazil two stars, so what does that prove…
Anyway, this made me think Kaufman is some kind of genius, being the sole writer and director of this film (okay, he had some good Tom Wolfe source material to start with, but still… there was no list of 7 credited writers like you see these days). Kaufman made the exquisite Unbearable Lightness of Being but he also was responsible for Rising Sun (with Connery and Snipes), and other abominations. One can’t be perfect I guess.
I’m surprised this movie doesn’t get more respect, especially among film directors. It really is a tour de force. It’s got a huge canvas and a stable of brilliant actors and it’s epic in scope and certainly in length, way up over three hours long. One would think this movie would have inspired a generation of directors. It’s the Dr. Zhivago of the early 80s! But no. Perhaps it’s no surprise that Terms of Endearment won best picture that year.
5 comments:
I LOVE The Right Stuff. Another movie of Kaufman's that I think is terrific is his version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Wonderful.
My dad was at Edwards AFB when Chuck Yeager was flying some of those flights. Actually, so was I, as a little little girl. I remember thinking, when I saw TRS, that those guys with their crewcuts, flightsuits, etc., reminded me of my dad as a young man.
Kaufman also made Henry and June, which had its beauties, I thought. But The Right Stuff, The Unbearable Lightness (really, better than the book), and The Invasion of the Body Snatchers--all excellent. You could feel good about your career with those three movies under your belt, I think.
I like it when you blog.
MB's reaction to the trailer of "Twilight" caused a huge fight in our household.
I fell in love with Sam Shepard because of TRS. I also love Unbearable Lightness.
I, too, like it when you blog, which happens too infrequently.
Wow, thanks for all the blog love!
Lisa, I forgot about Henry & June. I always considered that to be the vulgar doggerel to Unbearable Lightness' metaphysical beauty. Fred Ward's grimacing portrayal of Henry Miller remains an interesting curiosity, however...
I refuse to skip over your other comments and get to "The Right Stuff" which, I will agree, is one hellaciously good movie and, while it had some respect at the time of its release, deserves a great deal more), I choose to focus on your commentary on 2001. There is a great deal of controversy, of course, about original intent of Clarke and what came out in 2001. I prefer to look at 2001 as pretty much a stoke of genius about everything Kubrick every wanted to say about the world he was in. Look at the subtle touches of the Russians on the space station or the insistent need of the "journalist" to document meetings or how they all just don't get the meaning of any of the monoliths set before them--including the pre-history pre-humans. They all look to that monolith and try to understand it, but it just baffles them. It just taunts them. It just scares the shit out of them.
2001 was tight sci fi because it had no answers...it presented the mystery and left it there with all the silly human banter that goes along with it. Ending with the "space baby" completely unexplained narratively, but making sense if you contemplate it based on the fancy hotel room that Dave was living through his meagre existence, suddenly makes sense: where we will be or what we will become will be as sudden as waking up. We suddenly find that we're the space baby--we're aware of something else besides out limited selves.
Look, look I say at the sequence when Dave is in the "hotel" of the aliens. Tell me that this is not Billy Pilgrims Slaughterhouse 5 alien dome. It is the same--awareness is not something found cheaply.
In all, I think that 2001 was pretty much Kubrick's unofficial way of making Slaughterhouse 5.
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