Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Films That Click (Kubrick Edition): A Clockwork Orange & Barry Lyndon

I don't really have much to say to intro these two films. It's bloody Kubrick. You know these movies are good, and these two are my personal favorites. 


A Clockwork Orange

This is probably the last film I have any adolescent nostalgia for. It was high school. I remember for the longest time wanting to see this film even before I considered myself a film buff. When a movie is referenced in a wide array of stuff, from Conker's Bad Fur Day to Phineas and Ferb, you know you got yourself a must see film. I eventually got a chance to see it when it was available at Hastings to rent. "Oh what bliss." 

Regrettably, well "almost" regrettably, I thought it would be a good idea to pop the DVD in during family lunch and exposed my family to a visual feast of ultra violence and grueling social realities. Needless to say, my movie recommendation wasn't a popular decision among my family. Well, you can't win them all. 

A Clockwork Orange has been a consistent Top 20 movie for me ever since I saw it and to me best showcases that elusive Kubrick touch. If I had to describe Kubrick and why he was so special as a director, it would be this innate ability to create memorable moments using the simplest of tricks. The intro shot comes to mind, one of the most iconic moments in the movie and movies in general. All it is is a simple pan out, with Malcolm McDowell's stare, some fitting music and establishing narration from the source material, and it is perfect. And if you are a lover of cinema, this shot has way more under the hood than four simple things. McDowell evokes Anthony Perkin's stare from the movie Psycho. Where Psycho ends with an iconic display of pure evil. Clockwork Orange begins with an iconic display of pure evil all in the midst of a socialite environment. It is basically the movie's way of saying it is not going to fuck around. 

And there is a lot of truth to that. Alex DeLarge does so many heinous things far beyond the point where he would have been cancelled on Twitter. And yet, I have never met a single person that dislikes this character. I think what separates him is the fact that the movie recognizes that everything he is doing is wrong. It's a setup to what would be one of the most unnerving two questions in cinematic history: Would you give free will to someone even if that person is a monster? And, would you honestly sink to their level just to get back at them? 

I thought a lot about cancel culture during my recent viewing. Now, I don't have anything against cancel culture in certain aspects, but there is something to be said about the inherent self-righteousness presented. The idea that it is ok to drag someone through nails and crucifying them on a burning cross as long it is someone who you believe deserves it. "We aren't doing a bad thing. We are carrying out a justice, personal or otherwise." 

Clockwork Orange shines the self-defeating extreme that applying justice can have. Yes, accountability is necessary for society to function. But, there becomes a point where that accountability goes from justice to the self-indulgence of the one supplying it. 

Of course, that is just one reading of the film. There is so much to pull from this film from the government's willingness to put fast-and-easy band aids over deep rooted problems to the simple banality of evil.  

I love this film. It is so stark yet rich. Yadda yadda yadda, go watch the fucking film. 


Barry Lyndon

If you ask me what movie comes to mind when I hear Stanley Kubrick, I would think Clockwork Orange. If you ask me what would be the second, I would then say Barry Lyndon. 

The idea of art being magic is an often a term I felt had no substance. However, I can't describe Barry Lyndon other than magic. There is a weird aura this movie brings. You can't quite pinpoint why a three hour, slow paced, period piece can be so mesmerizing. It doesn't matter what mood your in or if you just need a casual watch. Barry Lyndon always feels right. Like in my most recent viewing, I couldn't be in a worse mood to be watching a movie. I was depressed. My mind was racing in eighty directions. It's what my therapist would call a "bad week." And yet, I was able to watch the first half of Barry Lyndon as swimmingly as eating pudding on a sick day. I could've easily finished it all in one sitting if the night was a little younger. 

I think the quote on quote "magic" of this movie is Barry Lyndon himself. Like Mrs. Brisby in Secret of NIMH, this character carries the movie. Barry Lyndon is a strange character. He is almost an every man, weirdly placed in a Seven Years' War. A character that simply weasels out of situations either through sleazy opportunism, backhanded tricks, or pure luck. He is bloody unbearable as a human being but at the same time immensely relatable. If you look at the guy, Ryan O'Neal looks like he is on the verge of shitting his pants 90% of the film, so I personally relate to the character. 

The magic also stems from the film's dedication to portraying a life story than a traditional movie plot. It's about as close to novelesque as we get a pretty comprehensive summary of this one person's life. There isn't a sense of agenda or point other than seeing this life story. A story with no winners or losers, only circumstances. Although as a side note, you do get the sense that the narrator might not know what the hell he's talking about which adds an interesting flavor to the film. 

If I had anything remotely bad to say, it would be that I am more partial to the first half than the second. I feel the sentiments that this movie is slow and drawn out are due to the second half since the film winds down with still an hour left in the film. Other than an excellent duel scene, the movie feels like it is progressing as a formality but such is life.  

This movie is an anomaly. A movie loved by those who've seen it, but it is almost never talked about. You can see its influence if you can look for it. This is by definition a cult classic, and I am glad to be apart of that cult. This movie is one of the greatest. Kubrick's career could have ended with these two movies, and I would still say his career would be as immaculate as the full selection he left behind.         


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