Canon Fodder: A Clockwork Orange
Canon Fodder is a new feature in which I try to trim some fat off the bloated carcass of the film canon while also figuring out a less groan-inducing name for the series.
Entry One: A Clockwork Orange
Admittedly, A Clockwork Orange may seem a strange first entry for Canon Fodder. It’s not like it was universally loved upon its release in 1971, with critical luminaries like Pauline Kael, Andrew Sarris, and Roger Ebert slamming it as repellent, corrupt, and even immoral. But, over time, a consensus has coalesced that Clockwork is a seminal work, a cutting satire ahead of its time, another notch of brilliance in a genius’s belt. Well, I don’t want to pull the punch bowl away right when the party gets going, but I think they were right the first time: A Clockwork Orange is just not that good of a movie.
Don’t get me wrong. There are plenty of iconic scenes and images here. But a few memorable shots and montages alone don’t make a great movie. And I also want to make clear that, while I agree with the 70’s critics I mentioned that Clockwork is lame, I don’t share their sense of moral outrage. I’m not offended by the film. I’m just bored.
One early clue something’s up (or off) is that the book it’s based on by Anthony Burgess is often described as ‘hilarious’ and ‘darkly funny’. But yet the movie starts and stays utterly devoid of humor, unless you find inherent comedy in words like ‘droog’ or ‘yarbles’, or think violence set to inappropriately upbeat music is by itself a laugh riot. OK, but it’s not a laugh-out-loud kind of ‘comedy’, fans say, it’s a satire. But by that measure, it fails even harder. Let me explain.
Here’s the structure of the movie:
1. Alex and his equally idiotically-attired friends rape, murder and generally wreck hoodlum-type havoc on their community, usually set to classical music.
2. Alex is apprehended and kept in prison for two years until he agrees to undergo a experimental new therapy called the Ludovico Technique. This consists of strapping him to a chair, forcing his eyes open, and making him watch a series of violent and grotesque acts projected in front of him, set to his favorite music, Beethoven’s 9th. The scientists have given Alex a drug that causes him violent nausea, rendering the sickening feeling, the music, and the images forever linked in his mind.
3. Alex, now a neutered shell of himself, is released to the streets. He is powerless against both his former victims and colleagues, and they proceed to take their revenge on him. One of them locks him a room and plays Beethoven’s 9th, which is now so noxious to him that he jumps out of a window to end it all. He wakes up in a hospital to find that his unsuccessful suicide attempt has put the government in an awkward and unpopular position. He agrees to publicly make amends with the prime minister in exchange for a cushy job, and the movie ends with the two smiling for the cameras while Alex subversively dreams of public sex.
The last line is Alex saying “I was cured, all right!” over this fantasy, keeping with the sledgehammer-subtle touch Kubrick utilized for the preceding 135 minutes. The message, the moral, the reason we stayed awake for all that cartoonishly staged, yet surprisingly dull, mayhem turns about to be that “You can’t force someone to be good.” That’s it? That’s your big revelation? That’s the target of this toothless satire? Doesn’t seem worth it.
Besides illustrating the adolescent and obvious messaging behind the movie, I wanted to show the synopsis to also point out how flawed the structuring is, rendering the plot painfully predictable for the entire last third. As soon as the first revenge is taken, only an idiot would fail to see what’s coming and what’s coming is a tedious rehash of what we just saw in the first third. The viewer is trapped, like Alex, watching pointless random violence, for what feels like an eternity, towards ends that are cruel and dubious.
And unlike some of Kubrick’s other duds – say, Eyes Wide Shut, this one can’t even carry you along with pretty pictures. The movie does have its share of memorable images, but overall, this is one of Kubrick’s least visually compelling films. The style is intentionally flat and static. There’s often a case for such an aesthetic, but here it’s just another element adding to a thematically monochromatic movie. And Kubrick’s penchant for cold coloring, distance, and wide-angle lensing means we never get close enough to either Alex or his victims to sympathize with their pains or their pleasures. The observer has no choice but to be detached with the wide berth the director gives them.
Oh, and the acting! We have to talk about the acting. Malcolm McDowell’s unhinged exuberance is the best part of the movie, but even he’s made to slip into the stock “Kubrick Crazy” look once too often: face tilted down, eyes agog, a bit of drool escaping his lips. But Patrick Macgee outdoes him in this regard, giving what has to be one of the worst performances of the 1970’s as his victim/tormentor Mr. Alexander. Kubrick’s sole direction to him in the last third must have been: “Look down. OK, now look crazy.” because that’s all he seems capable of doing. See how he wins the Crazy Face award below:
In summation, A Clockwork Orange is reactionary, bombastic, and most annoyingly, boring as all hell. I submit that the attention and praise that the Cult of Kubrick lavishes on it be diverted to a more worthy work of his like, say, the phenomenal and oft forgotten Paths of Glory. I rest my case.
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One of the interesting details about the movie versus the novel it’s based on is the exclusion of the 21st chapter from the original American edition of the novel, and subsequently, Kubrick’s cut. It’s interesting to think about how the film would look if it ended not with Alex’s dream, but with the dull reality of his adult life after he grows out of his criminal youth.
Yeah, I discovered that while reading about the film’s reception in ‘71. It’s an odd instance of the movie being darker than the book. However, I’m not sure I like that ending, either, from what I’ve read as it seems tacked on. I suppose it depends on how it’s handled, though.
I also just realized I neglected to point out the one thing I really enjoyed about the movie was Wendy Carlo’s score. For some reason, I really dig that 70’s synthesized classical stuff used in this, The Shining, and Apocalypse Now. It sounds a little dated but that’s part of the appeal for me, I guess.
I strongly object.
Call me part of the Cult of Kubrick, but A Clockwork Orange is a stroke of blood and cum drenched genius. It provoked you into writing this piece, did it not? And when did it come out? That you would even spend the time to discuss a 38-year-old film means that it certainly merits consideration even today. As a creative person, that to me sounds like a rousing success.
What kind of filmmaker can make an audience feel bad for a character who did this?– http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWLByMshYIU
Yet, at the end of the film, when Alex has been thoroughly stripped of his humanity, you feel bad for him. Only Kubrick could have pulled off such a miracle.
I would also add that Eyes Wide Shut is genius as well and suffers in opinion mostly because it is misunderstood. Its multi-level narrative and gut wrenching observations on monogamous life are unmatched in romantic character dramas. And I say that even considering the film’s greatest flaw: its lead actors.
Whoa, Stephen. That’s some pretty shaky logic you’re using here. Just because I’m reviewing an old movie doesn’t mean it “provoked” me into a response through its genius. For example, people still talk about Ishtar. That doesn’t mean it’s a subversive success. That’s applying reality-show thinking to movies: “I got people talking. That shows I’m doing something right!” I was only “provoked” into a review b/c it was one of the few good Blu-Ray discs my library had, so I re-watched to see how the transfer looked.
The whole point of this unfortunately-titled series is to look at movies that, through inertia, have erroneously been elevated to untouchable “classic” status. Obviously, it’s highly subjective and more than a little arrogant, but I’m just trying to inject a little skepticism into the Pedestal Production Industry.
Having said all that, I am nominating
“A Clockwork Orange is a stroke of blood and cum drenched genius.”
for the Palme d’Or of True/Slant comments, so don’t be surprised when you get the envelope in the mail.
In response to another comment. See in context »Discussion was the only thing that kept me in the newspaper business for three years longer than I deserved. When the letters page was filled with people hating on me, the editor knew I did something right. I’m comfortable applying the same standard to film. You won’t hear anyone talking about 2012 by 2013.
In response to another comment. See in context »Joseph, I’ve got to hand it to you, that’s some very funny stuff. I’ve also been toying with an “Is Kubrick overrated?” thesis (in my head) lately, and I think you just pulled away from the gate with this critique. I haven’t seen the film in some time, but will be watching it soon(ish), as it’s part of the AFI Top 100. Your reaction to it is in line with the reaction that I thought I might have, after watching a few of Kubrick’s other films recently, including Dr. Strangelove, and feeling that time has not been kind to the master from the Bronx.
And one thing your post has done for me is to point out a horrible consistency, structurally, in some of Kubrick’s work: the punch-line ending! “I was cured, all right.” Bang! Alex having public sex. Haha! Or, “You know what we need to so as soon as possible?” “What?” “Fuck.” Bang! Titter titter. We might have to take a look back at all of Kubrick’s endings and see how many fall into this tick. Good stuff.
Hey Mike, you trying to get me killed? I’m not about to go on a “Kubrick’s overrated” rant. At least not without a bodyguard.
Actually, bodily harm aside, I don’t think I’d ever put it that way. I don’t think Kubrick himself is overrated, just a few of his movies. Full Metal Jacket is 2/3 of a great movie, Eyes Wide Shut is terrible, and I enjoy 2001 more in scenes that I do watching it as film. I have yet to commit the time to give Barry Lyndon the time and attention it deserves, but I doubt I’ll be head over heels for it when I do watch it.
Having said that, I don’t think the word genius is thrown at him without cause. He’s one of a handful of modern directors (e.g. Allen, Scorsese, Spielberg) who’ve made innovative, timeless art that’s actually accessible and entertaining to the average person – no small feat. He possesses a style so singular, dynamic, and technically intimidating that no one even tries to rip it off.
That’s why I don’t feel bad about knocking one of his minor works. Stanley Kubrick is always going to be a God of Film, regardless of whether this or that movie is held in high esteem at any given moment. The little pebbles I throw his way won’t make any difference.
In response to another comment. See in context »Wow. Bombastic and boring? Really? I can only surmise you are Generation X or younger, having grown up on a steady diet of movie violence and video games that used said violence as mere set decoration. Personally, I think Kubrick did a masterful job of bringing the Anthony Burgess novel to life, making a commentary on youth so jaded, they had to kill and rape just to keep themselves amused. (Funny, it’s just like today’s gangs in Brooklyn, Oakland, and L.A.) Pretty prescient, in my view.
And how could anyone call Malcom McDowell in this role boring? His performance generated the same dichotomous emotions in his viewers that Ralph Fiennes did in Schindler’s List: a creepy, yet magnetically compelling villian you just couldn’t take your eyes off of. It was so creepy, in fact, he practically acted his way out of work for years. Notice it’s only recently he’s been popping up in character roles in movies and TV?
“A Clockwork Orange” is definitely in my top 10 movies of all time, and without a doubt Kubrick’s best.
“You can’t force somebody to be good?” Wrong. Not the point of the movie. A more apt reading is that we as a society value freedom of choice over “good,” “morality,” “safety,” etc.
The theme is deep and interwoven. The cinematography is actually quite visually compelling. Both unlike your column.
Damn, Garwhal, you nailed it. I was totally going for a deep, interwoven, visually compelling blog post, and I failed, hard.
In response to another comment. See in context »touche
Thanks for helping me get the lowdown on this ‘notorious’ film. I tried a few years ago to watch it but couldn’t get more than 15 minutes in and had to turn it off; was utterly bored as well. Glad i’m not the only one.
And there needs to be a Palme d’Or for T/S contributor sense of humor Joseph – the whole Kubrick Crazy Face gag at the end of your piece is some clinical strength funny…
Thanks for your anthology of the patented Kubrick Crazy Look. So often he used that recurring man vs. man moment to launch a bucket of gratuitous gore. I couldn’t say that I found his movies so much boring as uninspiring, but maybe that’s the same thing. Pauline Kael said it pretty well in calling him Stanley Strangelove. Did this man love anything? Did he find anything in human beings worth honoring?
I remember when it came out and I went to see it about 5 times over. You are right in your crits although at the time they would have seen as sacrilegious. Looking back one sort of loved the film as a statement about oneself over looking the flaws that were apparent even then.
there are one or two things that can’t be taken away from it. The applied use of Purcell’s Funeral of Queen Mary and the fact that a copy of John Fahey’s album, “The Transfiguration of Blind Joe Death,” appears in the record shop scene almost alone justify the use of the celluloid and its distribution.