2001: A Space Odyssey

What else is there left to say about Stanley Kubrick's sci-fi masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey? I can really only distil it down to simple terms. Monumental. Awe-inspiring. Frustrating. Innovative. Breath-taking. Timeless. Now on its 50th anniversary, with the aide of Kubrick worshipper Christopher Nolan, the film has been restored onto 70mm print created from the original camera negative and is back where it belongs - on the big screen. Indeed, as Strauss' Also Sprach Zarathustra theme erupted from the theatre speakers as the sun began to rise above the planet Earth in the film's iconic opening title sequence, I might have got a little emotional. And who says Stanley Kubrick is an unemotional filmmaker?

How to describe the plot of 2001: A Space Odyssey? Or even analyse it for a review? It is really a film of four parts exploring the potential history of mankind, so I'm just going to discuss each part in turn. We start in pre-historic times, with a group of pre-human apes. We follow their trials and tribulations trying to survive in an era where homo sapiens were yet to become the dominant species. We explore some of the very basic tenants of human emotions and desires - anger, fear, survival etc. Indeed, one group of apes is put upon by another, forcing them into hiding and potentially starving to death. However, everything changes when they discover a mysterious black monolith that gifts them with new found intelligence. One of the apes, with his improved IQ, discovers that he can use a discarded bone as a weapon and uses it to kill the leader of another group of apes, securing his dominance over the local watering hole. Kubrick uses this sequence to highlight that basic human nature was basically the same millions of years ago and the monolith represents a chance for change. In short, the monolith allows the apes to make the next step towards human evolution, as illustrated in one of the most audacious jumps cuts in history. One of the apes throws a bone into the sky as the camera follows it up before cutting to a space craft hanging in space, illustrating millions of years of human evolution in mere seconds. Brilliant. 

The apes discover the ominous black monolith

In true 2001 one style, this review may end up mostly visually - but there are just too many stunning shots in this film

The most audacious jump cut in history?

The second part follows a scientist, Dr. Heywood Floyd (William Sylvester), on his long and slightly dull journey to the Moon where another black monolith has been discovered. And this is probably where the most continued criticism of 2001 stem from - that it's slow and boring. However, this is rather the point. By slowing down the pace, Kubrick was able to illustrate the vary nature of space itself - its vastness and the sense of isolation astronauts must feel. The use of the grandiose classic music works two fold - it emphasises the immensity of space and breaths excitement into now banal acts such as interplanetary travel and walking in zero gravity, emphasised by the very long and protracted shots. It communicates the majesty of space yet it's now dull thanks to human ingenuity and commodification. It's also a very long film however I would argue that since it is about the history of mankind, I can hardly think of any other way than to make it into an epic without sacrificing some of the artistic integrity. While this part is probably not the most enjoyable part of the film, there is still plenty to marvel at. The space station waltzing to the famous The Blue Danube. The phenomenal model work that still holds up today in 4K. Dr. Floyd trying to work out how to use a zero-gravity toilet. It's a very a effective sequence, as it eloquently explores the mundane nature of day-to-day space travel (I love how the airplane-esque shuttles and space stations are practically devoid of people, implying this is a very privileged mode of transport) even if it isn't traditionally enjoyable.

The second part of the film definitely feels the longest, as it effectively communicates the sheer amount of time it would take to travel to the Moon

The third part (and probably the most famous) deals with astronauts Dave (Keir Dullea), Frank (Gary Lockwood) and the computer HAL-9000 (Douglas Rain), on a voyage to the edge of the currently known universe (for the filmmakers, the edge of the universe in 1968 was Jupiter, pre-dating the discovery of the final planets that make up our solar system). However, Dave and Frank discover that HAL is malfunctioning and poses a grave threat to the mission. This is probably the most traditionally enjoyable part of the film and it is a favourite for most. I feel that this part is the most effective at communicating the "space is lonely" theme of the film, while also looking at humanity's future with artifical intelligence. Little details such as the 7 minute delay between the astronauts and their BBC interviewer or the practicalities of cryogenically freezing the other member to prolong basic elements such as food, water and air or the fact that sound cannot exist in space are elements that only Kubrick could have imagined. He effectively establishes that his scientists are now devoid of any real emotions, making the real human drama of this sequence HAL-9000. Every time I watch the film, I always end up feeling sorry for HAL, especially as Dave slowly removes his memory banks as he sings Daisy, Daisy - even if he messed up and caused the deaths of all the crew members! The slow pace of the second part is still here, though now there is the added tension of stopping HAL from destroying the mission and endangering our characters lives. All the music is completely stripped back, leaving some sequences scored only by Dave breathing through his space helmet. It really is marvellous stuff.

HAL-9000 is one of the truly great AI characters of science-fiction

Dave enters HAL's memory banks

Dave, after defeating HAL-9000, discovers that the mission was a ruse all along and the monolith on the moon was signalling towards an area beyond Jupiter, where it is revealed a third monolith is floating about. This leads into the fourth part, and perhaps the most infamous, where conventional narrative is completely thrown out of the window in favour of an intergalactic light-show, as Dave hurtles through time and space itself. The images and the abstract music of György Ligenti (which employs micropolyphony to create sustained dissonant chords that shift slowly over time) all help to communicate a strange and out-of-body experience. Dave reaches the end in an ornate room, where he is ageing rapidly and, on the brink of death, he sees a fourth (or maybe it's the third) monolith that transforms him into the next stage of human evolution, the now famous star child, and returns him to Earth. This is often where some audiences completely lose track of the film and certainly on my first viewing, I was left completely baffled. However, on my fifth viewing (I believe), I've developed my own interpretations of this sequence and it's now probably one of my favourite parts of the film. The monoliths serve as milestones for humanity and help to accelerate evolution. The monolith Dave discovers hanging around Jupiter transports the astronaut through time and space itself, filling his head with the accumulated knowledge of mankind and the universe, as abstractly represented by the crazy light show. Many of the abstract images to me seem to be almost galaxy-like, so I think the monolith is probably showing Dave the creation of the universe and, eventually, the birth of the Earth, as we begin to travel across vaguely familiar Earth-like terrain. At the end of Dave's journey, he finds himself in an ornate room where he can die in a comfortable and recognisably human-surrounding. However, time is in influx and this causes him to age quickly. The monolith does this to show Dave that time is not linear as its final lesson. The monolith then regresses Dave to a highly-evolved version of an infant in order to bring about a new dawn of mankind. The film ends on a powerful note as Dave stares across at the planet Earth. Whether this is hopeful or terrifying is up to the viewer. At least, that's how I read it. 

The stargate sequence is a gorgeous piece of avant-garde cinema

Awe-inspiring? Hopeful? Scary? Creepy? Funny? The star-child illicites a lot of different reactions

Look, I'm not going to pretend that 2001 is one of my favourite Kubrick films. I have to be in a very particular mood to fully enjoy its slower pace. However, in terms of artistic integrity, 2001 is a monumental achievement. If you don't enjoy the film, I can completely understand that and it's no slight on your intelligence (the many defenders of 2001 pull out the "you just don't get it" card, which is just unfair). However, I'm sure most people can at least appreciate what a massive accomplishment this film is, both as a piece of art and as a milestone in filmmaking. I would argue that no film before or since has quite captured the vastness of space, its loneliness and its potential for bettering mankind. Plus, I think you have to remember when this film was made. Man had not landed on the Moon yet and humanity didn't even know what the Earth looked like from afar. Kubrick had to theorise all of this and the fact that most of it ended up being right is a massive testament to his commitment to the film. I just have to give massive kudos to Kubrick for seeing his vision through to the nth degree. Even if I don't 100% enjoy 2001 as a traditional film, it just floors me every time that Kubrick was able to get away with making a film like this.