A few months ago, it was announced that Marc Forster (The Kite Runner, World War Z), would adapt an unfinished Stanley Kubrick script dating as far back as 1956, a period preceding the famous director’s ascent to the top of the film industry. This adaptation should eventually become The Downslope, a Civil War-based trilogy. Needless to say, after the terrible Charleston tragedy and all the incidents related to the seemingly everlasting struggle regarding civil rights, that this topic is still a hot one. Although this script was written 60 years ago, it is still relevant enough today to be adapted as a new trilogy, despite all the talented screenwriters living today. It also is but an example of how important the legacy of Stanley Kubrick remains, not only regarding cinema, but also, and perhaps more importantly, when it comes to society and its criticism through arts.
We often hear people say “Ugh… old movies: no colours, terrible special effects” or any variation of this sentence. Alright, it might be true; some movies do decay “as time goes by” (we couldn’t help but reference the 1943 masterpiece). But this isn’t the case for Stanley Kubrick movies, or at least most of them, and here’s why:
Let’s start with Kubrick’s first true Hollywood production, The Paths of Glory (1957). Not that we neglect his early works (Flying Padre, Fear and Desire, The Killing) or all his photographs, but this was a period of artistic experiment, with low budgets, and even Kubrick himself tried to destroy every copy of some of his early works later in his life, ashamed of these more “naïve” movies. So, The Paths of Glory, just like Spartacus (1960), was created in collaboration with Kirk Douglas, who starred in both. Those Hollywood productions (“super-production” in the case of Spartacus) didn’t however allow Kubrick the artistic freedom he longed for, which led him to move to England after wrapping. Nonetheless, the “Kubrick touch” can still be largely felt in those two pictures: The Paths of Glory is a movie about the First World War, but not a heroic war epic as suggested by the trend at the time. Rather, it was a harsh criticism of the military system, the strict hierarchy and the vanity of poor soldiers. It even got censured by the French and Swiss armies for its depiction of the military. As for Spartacus, it didn’t cause that much of a controversy, as it was a historic epic in the style of one of Kubrick’s great inspirations, David Lean (Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago). The story of the oppressed people rebelling against authorities through brave acts of solidarity (we all remember the famous “I am Spartacus” scene) isn’t new and will probably never get old.
Once in England, though, Kubrick gained more artistic freedom and independence, but still had to handle censorship, as his movies were often very controversial. Controversial amongst critics of course (as his movies often went misunderstood or underestimated before being praised upon re-evaluation), but also within society itself, as they usually presented harsh criticism of people in general or otherwise respected institutions. And his following efforts were no exceptions. Lolita (1962), adapted from the eponymous novel by Vladimir Nabokov, had to be nuanced in its sexual content in order to be broadcasted, but it still tackled the crucial issues of hyper sexuality of the youth, loss of innocence, pedophilia, and other issues of the like that are still stressed on and unresolved more than half a decade later.
Kubrick then went back to political criticism with his widely acclaimed Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964). For this one, after years of research on nuclear weapons, he decided to tackle the widespread paranoia regarding the Cold War and the hostile yet very fragile relationship between the two superpowers that were the USA and the USSR. (Twenty-five years after the collapse of Soviet Union, and fifty years after the release of this masterpiece, can we actually pretend that the West’s relationship with Russia has gotten any better, or that the nuclear threat is a long gone nightmare?)
Of course, the American government was the last to back the movie, but thankfully it remained out of censorship’s reach. Kubrick reiterated his criticism of the American military system with Full Metal Jacket (1987). After Cimino’s The Deer Hunter (1978), Coppola’s Apocalypse Now (1979) and Stone’s Platoon (1986), Kubrick weighing in on the Vietnam War was just a matter of time. However, he released a masterpiece that was way more than just his personal opinion on that specific conflict. The director presented a powerful and harsh picture, split in two halves: one vehemently criticizing the military training and brainwashing of young soldiers, the other presenting the absurdity of war and the efficiency of the aforementioned brainwashing.
Between the making of those two productions, Kubrick directed three masterpieces: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), A Clockwork Orange (1971) and The Shining (1980), as well as a, perhaps, “secondary” movie, (in Kubrick measurements, of course), Barry Lyndon (1975), which is still relevant nowadays as it shows the struggle and the social rise of an Irishman. A kind of denunciation of a universalised American dream perhaps. The three others, however, should be considered with slightly more care detail. Let’s go through them:
2001: A Space Odyssey completely transformed the science-fiction genre. Steven Spielberg even described it as the “big bang” of the time. Kubrick decided to cut most of the dialogues and scientific explanations in order to create a rather poetic picture with this contemplative film about the evolution of mankind through the intervention of a monolith coming from outer space. Fascination for the unknown Universe, its immensity in time and space compared to the nothingness of mankind, and the role that we must hold in this chaotic cosmos, the rise and threat of artificial intelligence (a topic later exploited more thoroughly in Spielberg’s A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001), based on a Kubrick scenario) are all issues that still fascinate today.
A Clockwork Orange and The Shining both tackled the issues surrounding violence and sanity (or in-sanity), although doing so in different ways. The former dealt with the depravation of youth, ultra-violence, and the inability for authority to prevent said ultra-violence. (Ironically, some critics and officials claimed that it influenced the youth in committing crimes, which caused A Clockwork Orange to be censored in the UK). The Shining examined violence under a different angle. Kubrick wanted to direct the perfect horror movie, conducting tons of psychological and sociological researches in order to attain his goal (which, we must admit, he most certainly did). Instead of a violent youth, the movie this time pictured a disturbed adult, or a “dull boy”, evincing violence against the youth. (Kubrick was convinced that infanticide, especially when committed by the father, was considered to be the most terrifying crime). Isolation, madness, cabin fever, innocence of children caught in dangerous conflicts and dysfunctional families are still front and center today.
Finally, Kubrick’s final film, Eyes Wide Shut (1999) which he finished editing barely a few weeks before his death, presents the New York high society in a suspenseful movie revolving around sex and elitism.
It certainly is now obvious that the issues Kubrick discussed decades ago through his films have not yet been resolved – and perhaps can never really be – and that his movies should be regarded today not only as cinematographic masterpieces, but also as awareness-raisers, and even for latent, underlying debates within.
However, there is more to Kubrick movies than only the content. Many of the old movies “with no colours and terrible special effects” do tackle important issues and are still forgotten. Nevertheless, what makes a Kubrick’s picture so special is that the content is paired with advanced and innovative techniques, which are yet to be proved musty. For example, the use of NASA lenses on Barry Lyndon’s set in order to shoot the whole movie with candle lighting.
The director was also famous for the raw and crude way he pictured violent or beautiful scenes, not in a magnifying or ridiculing way, but just in a right, authentic way. He was also quite shrewd in his use of music, including powerful classical pieces, popular songs of the time as well as original soundtracks.
All these characteristics contributed to the creation of avant-garde movies: instead of the movie getting caught up by time, the actual society had to evolving ever tending to the one depicted in his movies. And if this statement seems exaggerated, remember that it perfectly fits Kubrick’s personality, as did his signature meticulousness, from casting to editing, and researching to pushing his actors to near hysteria, a virtue (to us, at least) that we rarely see today. Malcom McDowell, lead actor in A Clockwork Orange, even said that if Kubrick hadn’t become the great director we all know, he would have been an army general. It sure flattered Kubrick, though, as his role model was French Emperor Napoléon. But despite, or perhaps, because of his megalomaniac and egocentric pretensions, he left us one of the richest and most extensive set of work in the History of cinema.