The Film that Changed My Life
"My God, it's full of stars!......."
-Arthur C. Clarke, 2001: A Space Odyssey
2018 brings the fiftieth anniversary of the release of Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. With this comes the usual selection of articles, commemorations and (so rare in these days and time) an actual re-release of the film to theaters, or at least “selected” ones. Director Christopher Nolan, who has worked behind the scenes to produce brand new prints of this masterwork, is determined to take us back to 1968. No fancy digital enhancements adorn this re-release. Your mission is simply to watch the film according to Stanley’s original plan.
And what an experience this will still be......Kubrick ascribed to the idea that the very essence of film requires only two elements: visual images, accompanied by music. Everything else, while not unimportant, is secondary. 2001 is one of the best examples of this concept that I know. I was already a budding cinephile when this film was first playing in theaters and can remember the first time that I saw this film. This experience was more than memorable; it is one that changed my life......
As a child, I grew up on Saturday afternoon matinees at the local third-run movie theater. Twenty-five cents bought you a double-feature, a cartoon, coming attractions and (if you were unlucky,) a documentary short on such fascinating topics as......”Fly-fishing in Quebec....” It was on a Saturday afternoon, some years later, that I went to see 2001 for the first time. I was only 14 years old, and had no idea what was in store for me.
Fortunately, I did not see this film in a third-run theater with a second film attached. No cartoons or special features, either; just two hours and twenty minutes of pure artistry from Kubrick and his talented colleagues. Fortunately I was in a theater with a very large screen and a top-flight sound system. Kubrick was a director that would “approve” the theaters that displayed his work; a fine choice was made here.
In 1968, only solid classical music buffs recognized the majestic music that began the film. I had never heard this music before in my life. But the first minute and a half of Richard Strauss’ tone poem, Thus Spake Zarathutra was unbelievably effective when matched with Kubrick’s striking screen images. I still had no idea what the film was going to be about, but it didn’t matter. The experience had begun......
Without explanation or preparation, the Dawn of Man sequence began. No dialogue (at least in English,) and no music for a very long time. Only images prevailed.....the film was certainly taking its time, but this didn’t bother me in the least. Stanley Kubrick the still photographer, the documentarian, the provocative film artist was expressing his own unique vision. Somehow, I wasn’t anxious; I didn't long for fast-paced action, plot development, striking lead characters, etc. When you are part of such an experience, normal expectations can be happily laid aside....
And then came the next memorable scene.....the first appearance of the black monolith, that “damn two-by-four,” as Mad Magazine described it. The prehistoric creatures were left to their own devices to encounter this entity. This scene was stunning enough, but what was that music that played underneath? It was driving me nuts; I had never heard music like this before. Who wrote this, and how did they ever create those wondrously frightening sounds? Once again, the combination of the visual with music was beyond description. It was right, it was perfect; it was ......from another world.....
This was my first introduction to the music of György Ligeti (1923-2006). Kubrick listened to a varied repertoire of music, including works of the twentieth century avant- garde, before selecting this piece (and others by Ligeti) to use in his film. The Kyrie movement from Ligeti’s Requiem captured the intense mystery of the moment perfectly; the use of a liturgical text, as presented by the choir subtly reinforced the possible idea that 2001 was a religious epic of some sort.....
The choir was not singing any harmonies that I knew. It wasn’t until years later that I had a better opportunity to study the “sound-mass” compositional style employed by Ligeti and other members of his generation. Clusters of pitches (just like all of those stars out there,) heard in such close proximity. Some of these pitches were smaller than the half- step; this was news to me in 1968.
This is not the time to pontificate on the “meaning” of the monolith; for that, you can read hundreds of interpretations in books and online. In watching this scene for the first time, I surmised that those early pre-historic creatures were now endowed with a moment or two of greater intelligence and intuition. The majestic music of Richard Strauss returns at this moment of discovery, and I was enjoying the moment. Then came the famous shot where Moonwatcher triumphantly throws his bone weapon into the air and it becomes......did anyone discuss this famous transition in 1968? Now, everyone does.
One outstanding experience after the other was presented to me in the first part of 2001and we still had not heard one word of traditional dialogue! But Kubrick was only warming up. It was now time to visit the futuristic portion of the film, complete with commuter spaceships and a revolving space station. And what is the most appropriate music to accompany this ballet onscreen? Only a genius would have thought to use music by a different Strauss, in this case Johann Strauss, the Viennese “waltz ki