Subject: Retrospective: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

From: Richard A. Zwelling <[email-masked]>
Date: Wed, 05 Mar 2003 20:10:16 -0000

2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY
**** (out of ****)
a film review by
Richard A. Zwelling 

The first time I ever saw 2001: A Space Odyssey was when I was in
middle school. It was on network television, and my father grabbed me
just in time to see two apes using bones to bludgeon another ape to
death in the middle of a large puddle of water. "Watch what happens
next," he said, sounding rather dramatic. Of course looking back on
this, I know why this was so important to him. What I was about to see
was one of the most memorable visual transitions in film history. An
ape tosses his bone in the air. It rotates in slow motion, before
succumbing to gravity, and as it falls, there is an abrupt cut to, of
all places, outer space. In place of the bone is a spaceship, an exact
graphic match.

Not quite understanding what I had just seen, and being the
inquisitive kid that I was, I found a copy of Arthur C. Clarke's novel
of same name, and attempted to read it before I saw the complete film.
After finishing the book, I was amazed by the ideas it put forth, and
felt I was ready to view the film. I watched it in its entirety, and I
again saw the bone to spaceship transition, but I still did not feel
confident that I knew what the hell was going on.

The significance of this startling image was not immediately apparent
to me until I viewed the film again recently on the big screen. The
abrupt nature of the transition serves to make the passage of time
seem relatively insignificant, and in doing so, suggests that what we
see as marvelous innovation (i.e.--technology and space exploration)
is actually just a drop in the bucket in the greater universal scheme.
Although this transition is the most memorable in the film, it
represents only one of its several visual and aural matches that
reflect upon the film's fictional exploration of the story behind
human evolution.

The film begins with a section entitled "The Dawn of Man". We are
introduced to a pack of apes who wander around their grounds doing
nothing but seeking food and water. When other apes intrude, they fill
the air with wild shrieks, attempting to scare off the invaders. They
have no way to hunt, and no way to defend themselves against
predators. It is a very primitive existence.

Then one night, the apes are awoken by an eerie, otherworldly sound.
They emerge from their cave and find in front of it a giant black
slab, perfectly smooth and sturdy. They are wary at first, but one by
one, they gradually crowd around the monolith, as the sound grows
louder and more discordant. Later, we see a single ape fidgeting
aimlessly with an animal skeleton. Suddenly, the ape's face lights up
with a sudden understanding. The air begins to fill with the music of
Richard Strauss's "Also Sprach Zarathustra", a musical selection which
this film immortalized (and is often referred to as "The 2001 song").
We quickly see a close image of the monolith with the sun centered
high above it, and we now see the monolith's results. The ape lifts
one of the animal's bones high above his head and makes brutal
clubbing motions. He has found his weapon.

The next time another pack of apes threatens, he takes his newfound
discovery, and uses it to beat one of the pack members to death. Thus,
the dawn of man arrives, and the monolith's work has begun.

The remainder of the film focuses on where man has gone since then,
and towards the end, delves into where man might be going. And the
monolith is omnipresent. The pacing is slow and deliberate, as one
would expect from a Kubrick film, and while some might view it as
cumbersome, others will revel in it due to the unforgettable imagery.
Due to zero gravity environments, we see people walking on all four
walls, and there are several shots in which people seem to walk upside
down and around rooms. We again see the spaceships which resemble the
bone and also giant space stations which revolve like a wheel, yet
another symbol of human innovation.

The amazing feat which Kubrick pulls off, however, is making it seem
very real and plausible, rather than something purely science
fictional. The shots seem almost like a ballet rather than an
innovative sci-fi effect. Of course, having Johann Strauss's "Blue
Danube Waltz" in the background helps with this, and I'd guess that
the music was chosen for just that purpose.

Following the stunning "Blue Danube" sequence, we are introduced to
Dr. Heywood Floyd (William Sylvester) of the National Council of
Aeronautics. He is heading to a base on the moon to investigate a
finding which has been kept secret from the public. Along the way, we
see more futuristic signs of innovation: an orbiting Hilton Hotel and
a video phone. A foreshadowing dialogue with other doctors in the
hotel relates just how secret and important the investigation is.

When Dr. Floyd reaches the moon, we find out what the secret is. He
and several other scientists descend into a giant trench which holds
another monolith, identical to the one which catalyzed the ape
transformations. Again, we hear the eerie discordant sounds (excerpts
from "Lux Aeterna" by György Ligeti, one of Kubrick's favorite
composers). The humans crowd around the strange monolith to take a
picture, and although it feels much more civilized, there is an
unsettling resemblance to the primitive apes throwing themselves at
the earlier monolith, all clawing for their own touch. Just at that
moment, a deafening, high-pitched tone pierces the scientists' ears,
and this section of the story suddenly concludes.

The middle section of the film takes place 18 months later on the ship
Discovery, which is bound for Jupiter. The crew includes David Bowman
(Keir Dullea), Frank Poole (Gary Lockwood), three other doctors who
are in hibernation chambers, and the HAL 9000 computer (voiced by
Douglas Rain). HAL is a marvel of modern computer technology. He has a
perfect operational record, speaks with seemingly genuine emotion, and
acts as another member of the crew. There is a very revealing moment
when Bowman discusses his view on whether or not HAL has true
emotions.

But when something goes wrong with HAL, and Bowman and Poole decide to
disconnect him, HAL fights back, and along the way becomes one of the
most monstrous villains in film history. We fear HAL so greatly not
because he has a booming voice or a cruel heart, but for the exact
opposite reason. He speaks quietly and calmly in a detached manner and
is merely ensuring that he can do the job he was programmed to do:
stay functional and make sure the mission is complete. As a computer,
he does not understand the terrible things he is doing, and this makes
him all the more terrifying. (It is interesting to note that Anthony
Hopkins used HAL as his model when trying to create his interpretation
of the cold and monstrous Hannibal Lecter).

When Bowman finally gets into the chamber housing the equipment of
HAL's central functions, HAL quickly turns from villain to tragic
figure. He begs in the same calm voice for Bowman to stop destroying
his memory. He says he can "feel" his mind going. When Bowman
persists, HAL recites one of the most heartbreaking lines in film:
"I'm afraid, Dave." This sheds a haunting light on the question of
HAL's emotional capability.

For the sake of preserving novelty, I will not reveal much about the
film's final half hour. I will say two things however. One: It
represents some of the most brilliant cinema I have ever seen. Two: If
you do not read the book, you will be extremely perplexed by what
transpires. Suffice it to say that the monolith's role in human
evolution is finally brought to the forefront. In addition, the
aesthetics and suspense of the last ten minutes are, simply put,
beautiful and awe-inspiring.

It is hard to imagine any director other than Kubrick at the helm of
this project. The misanthropic undercurrents regarding technological
innovation reflect upon Kubrick's persistent interest in the
dehumanization of society (e.g.--A Clockwork Orange, Dr. Strangelove,
Full Metal Jacket). Kubrick's meticulous, deliberate directing caters
perfectly to the vast emptiness and solitude of space. His sense of
composition provides for striking, often disturbing imagery (consider
the sun towering directly over the center of the monolith, or Bowman
and Poole conversing on opposite ends of the frame with HAL in the
background exactly in the middle of the frame). The visual effects,
designed by Kubrick himself, are a testament to how creativity can
rise above technological limitation, considering that there was no
such thing as digital manipulation.

Perhaps the most amazing thing about 2001: A Space Odyssey is that
despite the fact that it is almost 35 years old, and despite the fact
that its vision of the future was not entirely accurate, it does not
seem at all dated. The issues raised in the film are as relevant now
as they were then. Certainly, human evolution is an issue that will
continue to be debated for many years to come. Due to its
unforgettable imagery, its novel use of classical music, and its
brilliant conclusion, 2001: A Space Odyssey will not soon be
forgotten.

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X-RAMR-ID: 34288
X-Language: en
X-RT-ReviewID: 848752
X-RT-TitleID: 1000085
X-RT-AuthorID: 7583
X-RT-RatingText: 4/4