A Clockwork Orange: Polaris Productions/ Hawk Films Ltd./ Warner Bros. Rating: USA: R/ UK: 18/ Australia: R
Hm…what’s left to say about director Stanley Kubrick’s Orwellian nightmare captured on film, A Clockwork Orange? Probably not a whole lot seeing as it’s been the subject of more term papers, movie reviews, and film school theses than any one of us could ever read in an entire lifetime. Yet, the Kubrick fanboy who lives inside me can’t pass up the opportunity to wax poetic about what is perhaps one of the ten greatest films ever made. I only hope that you all can indulge me.
Based on Anthony Burgess’ novel, A Clockwork Orange tells us the story of Alex (Malcolm McDowell: Caligula, Tank Girl), a teenaged miscreant wandering the blasted urban landscape of the near future. Nothing much matters to the nihilistic Alex—except for rape, the ultraviolence, and the music of good old Ludwig Van (Beethoven). He spends his evenings drinking drugged milk at the Korova milk bar, hanging out with his droogs, and looking for that special brand of entertainment that brings him such joy—usually at the expense of others. And that’s where we find Alex as the film opens—imbibing his drink of choice and planning an evening’s activities—activities that will include beating a homeless man, getting into a gang fight, stealing a car, and raping a woman (Adrian Corri) while forcing her husband (Patrick Magee) to watch.
Afterwards, we come to see that this is pretty much the standard evening for Alex and his boys, and things would probably go on like this for eternity, if not for the fact that Alex feels the need to keep his troops in line and under his command. This commanding side of Alex doesn’t sit well with his fellow droogies, and as a payback, they set him up. Alex is arrested for the murder of a wealthy woman (who he kills with a very large penis statue) and sentenced to fourteen years in prison.
Jail doesn’t agree with Alex, so he wiles away the days by reading the Old Testament (the sex and violence intrigues him) and chatting with the prison’s chaplain. When he hears of a new government experiment designed to curb violent tendencies, he goes to extreme lengths to be chosen as the guinea pig. He’s taken to a medical center, where for two weeks, he’s put in a theater and forced to watch violent films (his eyes are pried open—something that nearly cost McDowell his vision). While watching these films, he’s also given a drug that will make him nauseous—causing his body to equate violence with sickness.
The experiment is a rousing success, as witnessed through a public demonstration where Alex becomes physically ill when confronted with a naked woman, and a man who berates him. He’s a new man, one ready to become a productive member of society—only his past misdeeds continue to haunt him. In a series of different events, Alex winds up encountering everyone he’d wronged in his past—and each of them are looking to settle a score. Alex ultimately becomes suicidal, and after his failed attempt, finds himself in a hospital—one that cures him of his re-programming, bringing the film to a close as the narrative, and Alex, come full circle.
During its initial release, A Clockwork Orange was denounced as a despicable film that glorified violence and rape—nothing could be further from the truth. Kubrick’s film is essentially a parable—a story with a moral theme buried at its heart, one dealing with the loss of humanity and dehumanization in general. It’s ground that Kubrick would come back to time and again in his work, but I find that this film is most poignant of the bunch. Alex is a despicable (but very intriguing) individual, yet he’s still a human being. And even though it seems like utopia to live in a world where there is no violence, violence is ultimately part of being human—to lose it would be to lose a part of ourselves, and wind up less human in the process.
The film showcases all the standard Kubrick stylistic flourishes, including the inventive camera angles and movements, an interesting use of color throughout, and wonderful melding of music with visuals. Kubrick’s camera setups tend to draw us into Alex’s world, making us more than the standard film voyeurs, instead nearly making us giddy participants in the onscreen atrocity. Most filmmakers would distance the viewer from the violence, but not Kubrick—no Stanley wants you to experience it all, first hand…that way, you’re no less guilty than Alex, and you’ll suffer just as he does through the rest of the film. It’s a similar effect to the one Pier Pasolini applies in Salo: The 120 Days of Sodom (read my review if you’re interested). Every Kubrick fan has their own personal choice for which film constitutes the man’s best work, and A Clockwork Orange gets my vote. While all of the man’s films were incredible, this one seems the most complete of the bunch.
McDowell is at his best as young Alex, a monster in the guise of a young man. Alex might be film’s most perfectly realized sociopath—there’s a wicked sense of cunning inherent in his every feature, one that never fails to terrorize the audience. However, like most sociopaths, he’s also quite likeable. Alex is intelligent, witty, and even quite charming when the situation calls for it, but his savagery is always lurking just beneath the surface—waiting for the right moment to rise up and strike. Most interesting of all is the way that Kubrick, Burgess, and McDowell actually manage to make us sympathize with Alex’s plight after he’s freed from prison. Alex has wronged everyone who wrongs him and has some of what he gets coming to him, but you still feel bad for the guy. Whether that’s because he’s somehow less human now that he’s been stripped of his ability to react violently or something else entirely, I’m not sure—but at any rate, it’s a fascinating dynamic…one that makes the viewer question a lot of things about himself.
In the end, A Clockwork Orange is too complex a film to deal with in anything resembling a simple review. One could write a doctoral thesis on all the things at work in the novel and film and still not cover it all. Kubrick’s movie is ultimately one of the prime examples of the power film has to transcend the medium—meaning it’s not only entertainment, but also social commentary, a meditation on what it means to be human, and more. If you’ve seen the film, then you know where I’m coming from. If you’ve never seen A Clockwork Orange, then quit reading this review and go rent a copy. This film gets nothing less than my highest recommendation. It’s essential viewing for any film fan.
DVDS. {$Stanley Kubrick} dissects the nature of violence in this darkly ironic, near-future {\satire}, adapted from {$Anthony Burgess}'s novel, comple...More at DeepDiscount.com
Stomping, whomping, stealing, singing, tap-dancing, violating. Derby-topped teddy-boy hooligan Alex (Malcolm McDowell) has his own way of having a goo...More at Buy.com Marketplaces
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