A couple of nights ago I discovered Stanley Kubrick. I mean, I’ve always admired the man’s work, you’re not allowed to be interested in cinema if you don’t, but the night before last I actually formed an attachment with him, a bond between auteur and awestruck disciple. I had known this would probably occur for years: my beloved Christopher Nolan has a space in his all-time favorite movies that reads “anything Stanley Kubrick,” and I had been wondering when my consistent but unspectacular affection would cocoon itself in a single movie, and then emerge as flat-out adoration.
I actually experienced this in two movies. The first was “Paths of Glory,” a spectacular anti-war (but not anti-military, if you ask me) drama starring Kirk Douglas. Widely adored by people who love movies, watching this masterpiece helped me to see where Nolan and his DP Wally Pfister learned how to combine elegance and brutality, grit and grace. When you watch “The Dark Knight,” it simultaneously hits you with beauty and viciousness, impossibly combining the two. “Paths of Glory,” which hops back and forth between World War I trenches and elegant French mansions, must have been their textbook. I overwhelmingly endorse this movie’s immediate acquisition.
So that was great, but it’s not like I didn’t already know Kubrick was a gifted man. Anyone who has seen and comprehended “2001: A Space Odyssey” or “Dr. Strangelove” can tell you that. The next step, which I would have been hesitant to take were it not for the fervor that “Paths of Glory” inspired, was “Barry Lyndon.” This is a three hour period drama centered on a thoroughly unlovable protagonist with wall-to-wall classical music, and an overwhelming amount of natural lighting. It’s a soap opera, its tone is not terribly removed from a really expensive Hallmark movie.
And it’s completely terrific.
Now when you hook me into a movie that long about a character that despicable (and not in the exciting, Hannibal Lecter way), I have to throw up my hands and concede victory to you. How did you do it, Stanley? How did you make even this material, which I could foresee hating on several grounds, as transfixing as it is? I was up till 4 in the morning watching this movie, and I still haven’t finished it.
Which is, by the way, the only problem with the thing: I never have time to get through it! I’m desperate to know what happens next, so I spend more time than I should in front of my computer, mouth gaping open, utterly blown away by what’s happening. Meanwhile, little things like my marriage and career are ignored. At any given moment during this film’s running time, I could walk away, turn on my Xbox, and shoot about two hundred zombies. I am actually choosing the period drama over that. This guy is incredible.
So now I love you, Stnaley, and I will set about seeing the last few of his works I haven’t yet mastered (“Killer’s Kiss,” “Eyes Wide Shut,” “Lolita,” and “Spartacus”). I’m especially excited about “Spartacus,” which I am almost guaranteed to adore. Let me list some great things about Kubrick that I have come to realize:
1. His work is challenging. Most Kubrick movies are great for the same reason that casual moviegoers don’t like them: they are long, and demand attention. You don’t watch these things like “Transformers,” clicking off your mind and waiting for titilation, you have to commit and dig in as if you were reading a novel. When you do, the poetry of these images starts rummaging around in your soul, profoundly altering your perspective. Even the most oblique corners of his films are rich with meaning.
2. He didn’t make that many movies. I absolutely LOVE this about him. Spielberg and Scorsese are great, but they’ve both done too much work, in my opinion. “Casino” is an unnecessary retread, two of the Indiana Jones movies never should have been made (“Doom” and “Skull”), and the commonality here is a director sitting in their comfort zone, languishing. Either that, or they stretch out into new territory awkwardly and don’t succeed; consider “New York, New York” from Marty or “1941″ from Steven. Stanley, on the other hand, made his films carefully and patiently. Each Kubrick is a deliberate thing, a carefully thought out and executed statement. I think movies flourish under this treatment: they shouldn’t be cranked out like sausages, they should be lovingly constructed and executed when the time is right. Stanley Kubrick made about 13 movies in his life (give or take, depending on what you count), and I think that is the perfect number. It’s enough to have a body of work, a real landscape to be explored, but not so much that the stuff starts to lose meaning. Incredible.
3. They’re all so different. No Stanley Kubrick movie ever feels like anything but, and yet each one is utterly distinctive. In his very early years, he pumped out a few retreads of the noir thriller, but after that he never touched the same thing twice. Watching Stanley Kubrick’s films is like getting acquainted with a massive, idiosyncratic family: each member is unique, but all are united by their origin. The proof of this is in the fact that very few people can love just one Kubrick film, especially the later work. If you love “The Shining,” it’s going to be very hard to resist “A Clockwork Orange.”
4. “2001: A Space Odyssey.” Holy crap is that a great movie. Every single rule they teach me at USC is broken by this film, and it’s a masterpiece. “2001″ is routinely called the only movie that has ever really been about God. I agree, and so did Stanley.
5. They’re layered with meaning. Kubrick films exist on two or three more levels than most cinema, probably because the man spent so much time thinking about each one before it was assembled. You can sense that every inch of them has been considered ruthlessly, forged in the fire of obsessive perfectionism. Interestingly, it is rumored that Kubrick never viewed his movies once they were completed. I can understand that, I never do either. But if I had made a Kubrick movie, I’d watch it constantly and wonder how the hell I did it.
Anyway, he’s great.
Moving on,
I saw “X-Men Origins: Wolverine,” and it was disappointing. The director, Gavin Hood, has done some fine work in the past, but I strongly suspect that this movie’s weak attempts at story are the result of too many chefs stirring the pot. There are, of course, the fabled last-minute reshoots that occurred, as well as the incessant rumors that Richard Donner had to be summoned to cool tensions between Hood and the studio. Some even say he took over the director’s chair during the more challenging action scenes, although I sincerely doubt it, because nothing here is done well enough to qualify. I suspect, although I cannot prove, that Gavin intended to make a thoughtful, sensitive film, and was cut off at the knees by typically meddlesome producers. Such a shame.
It’s especially sad because there are good elements here. Hugh Jackman is still wonderful as the titular hero, and a bulked up and terrifying Liev Schrieber is peerless as his murderous half-brother Victor Creed; I haven’t been so impressed by a comic book performance since Heath, and that’s saying something. The problem is, the movie invests a lot of time in things other than the feud between these two brothers, and that mistake costs this crass, stupid thing its most interesting asset. There are plot twists that suck, characters we don’t like and actors who make us flat-out hate them (the guy who played Gambit, I’m looking at you), and action scenes built on a green screen. Wolverine’s love interest is annoying as hell, and she ends up getting way more story prominence than anyone in the audience wants. I never understand the value of trying to throw some half-baked love story in a film you’re marketing predominantly at males. Even action films that women like such as “Gladiator” do not attempt this. The relationship I cared about was Victor and his brother, two men bound together by their unique gifts and thrown into violent conflict by their differing ideals. Are we really going to spend an hour on some chick who tells stories about the moon? Where the hell is Bryan Singer when you need him?
I heartily agree with so many of your comments. Glad you finally came over.
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