Back in 1981 I was stationed at RAF
Akrotiri in Cyprus and most of my evenings were spent working as an usher at
the Station Cinema. It was a good way to while away the time for someone like
me – I love the cinema and always have (I wouldn’t be writing this blog if I
didn’t) and this job gave me the opportunity to see every film that was shown
there for free. As an usher, one of my tasks was to maintain order, and this
took the form of keeping the hordes of kids quiet while the film was in
progress and to throw out any who were persistently disruptive. It was a
thankless task – the adults complained to me about the noise the kids were
making and the kids hated me for throwing them out. After a few weeks of this I
came up with a brilliant plan – if the kids were making too much noise I would
walk down the central aisle and as I did I would give a signal to the
projectionist, who would halt the film. I would then stand at the front and in
my most provocative voice I would shout, “Right, if there’s any more noise I’m
going to throw two of you out – I don’t care which two, I’ll chose two of you
at random. You have been warned!” The projectionist would then restart the film
and the kids would remain silent, not quite sure whether I meant it or if I had
just issued an empty threat. It usually did the trick, though. It’s true what
they say – give someone a little power and they turn into Adolf Hitler.
The early Friday evening showing was
reserved for the kids and the films that were screened were generally of the
science-fiction adventure variety. These included Star Wars (1977), Superman
(1978), Battlestar Galactica and Buck Rogers in the 25th Century
(1979), The Empire Strikes Back, Flash Gordon and Superman II (1980). I didn’t mind the kids making a noise during
these films because there were no adults in attendance. The adults usually
kicked their kids out of their houses and sent them along to the cinema with
some money to buy a ticket and enough sweets and sugary drinks to keep dentists
in employment for years after. The adults would then be free to do whatever
they did when the house was to themselves and the kids got to hoot and roar for
ninety minutes or so without fear of me threatening to throw them out. It all
went swimmingly until it was announced that Stanley Kubrick’s two-and-a-half
hour seminal science-fiction masterpiece 2001:
A Space Odyssey was going to be shown – in the early Friday evening slot.
I knew there were lots of adults on
RAF Akrotiri who wanted see this film, mainly those who had been baffled by it
when it was first released in 1968 and so I thought a warning would be
appropriate, explaining that it was probably not the best film for children to
see when they were pumped up with sweets and sugary drinks and expecting some
daft action-packed science-fiction extravaganza. In light of this I produced an
A3 notice that I stuck onto the film’s poster that was displayed outside the
cinema. The notice read:
NOTICE TO PARENTS! THIS IS NOT A CHILDREN’S FILM! YOUR KIDS WILL BECOME BORED AND RESTLESS WITHIN THE FIRST FIFTEEN MINUTES AND WILL THEN BEGIN TO DISRUPT THE CONCENTRATION OF THE ADULTS IN THE CINEMA WHO HAVE COME TO ENJOY A TRULY TRANSCENDENTAL EXPERIENCE. IT WILL BE AT THIS POINT THAT I SHALL BE FORCED TO EJECT YOUR OFFSPRING FROM THE PREMISES. YOU SHOULD EXPECT YOUR CHILDREN TO BE HOME EARLY, THUS DISRUPTING YOUR PLANS FOR THIS EVENING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
I threw thirteen kids out within fifteen
minutes of the film starting and the rest left of their own accord soon after.
Original poster for 2001: A Space Odyssey |
I was fourteen years old when I
first saw 2001: A Space Odyssey on
its initial release in 1968 and I clearly remember walking out of the cinema
feeling simultaneously amazed and baffled. There’s no dialogue for the first 24
minutes and again for the final 21 minutes. But I wasn’t the only one who
stepped out of a cinema with a look of puzzlement after seeing this film. 241
people walked out during its premier, including film star Rock Hudson, who was
reported saying as he left, “Can someone tell me what the hell this is all
about?”
Well, what the hell is it all
about? Cinema-goers who went to see 2001:
A Space Odyssey expected a film about space travel and it is, to a certain
extent, about exactly that. But this was a Stanley Kubrick film and anyone who
has watched his films will know that on the surface you get what you pay for,
but it’s underneath that surface that really counts, and underneath the surface
of 2001 is a story about human evolution.
And you’re really not supposed to understand it – you’re expected to make your
own conclusions about what it’s all about. Arthur C. Clarke (who co-wrote the
screenplay with Kubrick) adapted from his original short story The Sentinel, stated: “If you understand
2001 completely, we failed. We wanted
to raise more questions than we answered.”
Its total length of 135 minutes is
divided into four segments. The first segment is The Dawn of Man, and it follows a tribe of ape-men that are driven
away from their watering hole by another, fiercer tribe. A black monolith
appears when the tribe that have been evicted are sleeping and this triggers a
leap in evolution and you see an ape-man putting two-and-two together as he
discovers how to use a bone as the first tool. This tool, however, is used a
weapon and the ape-men reclaim their watering hole, using the bone to kill the
other tribe’s leader. At the end of the sequence the ape-man throws the bone up
into the air at which point (using what’s known as a match-cut) the film jumps forward four million years, with the
first weapon becoming the ultimate weapon – a nuclear device orbiting the
earth.
The Dawn of Man is an incredibly realistic sequence and it seems
astonishing now that it was totally disregarded by the judging panel for that
year’s Oscars – the award for best make-up effects was given instead to John
Chambers for his work on Planet of the
Apes, which, despite being a brilliant film itself, still looked like it
was populated by men (and women) wearing masks. Arthur C. Clarke often wondered
afterwards whether 2001 had been
ignored by the judges because they thought the ape-men were real.
The second part, TMA-1, starts with a fifteen minute dialogue-free
sequence involving a shuttle docking with a half-completed space station, set
to The Blue Danube Waltz by Johann
Strauss. This has no relevance to the plot or character development and is
there, it seems, just for the sake of creating a visually beautiful set piece –
and mesmerisingly beautiful it surely is. 2001
is a unique film in that it forced audiences to watch it in a different way in
which they watched other films – they had to sit back and relax and not care
whether a scene had any relevance to the plot. They had, in effect, to watch it
for the sake of watching it.
We then move to the Moon, where Dr
Heywood Floyd (William Sylvester) and his team of scientists are inspecting a
black monolith that has been buried under the surface for four million years.
They have no idea of its origin or purpose and it’s known only as TMA-1 (Tycho
Magnetic Anomaly One). During their inspection the monolith emits a high
pitched radio signal and the film jumps forward 18 months.
Jupiter Mission, the third segment, follows the crew of the first
manned mission to Jupiter – Dave Bowman (Keir Dullea), Frank Poole (Gary
Lockwood) and three other scientists who have been in cryogenic sleep since
before the mission commenced. There’s also a sentient computer system called
HAL that controls the functionality of the ship. All is going well until HAL has
a breakdown and kills four of the crew, leaving Bowman alone and isolated in
deep space. HAL, a highly advanced artificial intelligence whose conflicting
orders lead to his malfunction, is one of cinemas great tragic villains, and
his resulting paranoia and insanity have devastating and far-reaching
consequences for Dave Bowman.
The final part, Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite, is another
dialogue-free segment. I’m not going to say anything about this in case
whoever’s reading this hasn’t seen this film. I will say one thing though –
when you watch it, it will blow your mind.
2001: A Space Odyssey is a magnificent film and to say that it was ahead of
its time is an understatement and does no justice to its influence on the
development of cinematic techniques and storytelling to come. Remember, this
was made before CGI and even blue and green screens even existed. Its special
effects would not come anywhere close to being matched for another nine years,
until Steven Spielberg’s Close Encounters
of the Third Kind (1977) came along, and even that didn’t have the totally immersive effect of 2001. Its influence has not been restricted
to the science fiction genre either, and it’s leisurely pace and sparse
dialogue can be seen in the films of Clint Eastwood, especially Hereafter (2010), and any film directed
by the great Terrence Malick.
In this age of shoot ‘em up,
slam-bang, fast-cutting, brainless action movies, it’s a pleasure to watch
something that appeals to the intellect and takes its time to tell its story. And
if I were to give advice to someone who was about to watch 2001 for the first time, it would be this: Be patient, because the
rewards are manifold.
No comments:
Post a Comment