A CLOCKWORK ORANGE (1971)

Neha says

It’s a scary future and trust Kubrick to make it churn and burn with violence as crime rates soar and society remains agonizingly at the mercy of hoodlums and the havoc they create. It sounds like comic book splash but Kubrick has other plans. The film follows the story of one such vicious and juvenile delinquent Alex DeLarge (Malcolm McDowell) who epitomizes the word “brutal” as stealing cars, bashing up rival gangs and “filthy, old, dirty drunks” on the streets, robbing homes and raping women brings him as much pleasure as Beethoven and Mozart’s classic notes do, Alex may be the self appointed leader of a quartet of like-minded cronies but when two of his gang members, Dim (Warren Clarke) and Georgie (James Marcus) no longer want Alex to call the shots and speak up, they need to contend with Alex’s wrath in a slow motion, superbly stylish fight sequence by the waterfront where Alex sets the record straight regarding who is the boss. Dim and Georgie quietly bide their time and take the impulsive Alex unawares during a robbery gone wrong, bashing him up and leaving him for the cops to find. Alex is tried and convicted with a 14 year jail sentence. Parallely the Government implements a crime reform program where criminals are conditioned to suppress their violent instincts through medicine and a series of hypnosis sessions. Alex sees this as a ticket out of prison even though critics of the program believe (and this is fascinating) that in the absence of choice, individuality and the ideology of liberty is severely compromised. But when Alex returns to the real world reformed or for some repressed by Government intervention he needs to confront demons from his past, deal with anti-Government agents who want to use him against the Government and wrestle with his instinctive evilness and his inability to do something about it.
“Duality as the Ultimate Reality” -Anthony Burgess
From the cryptic title to the brutal and nihilistic “ultra-violence” on display; from the trippy and contrast-rich color palette to the stylish and futuristic spatial design; from the carefully layered themes, motifs and symbols to the use of classical music where excerpts from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and even “Singin in the Rain” become psychological triggers to propel the plot forward; from Malcolm McDowell’s career-best and nightmare-inducing portrayal of Alex (Can’t get the climactic scene with the Minister of the Interior feeding a bedridden, hospitalized Alex out of my head!) to the use of language in the film- a strange mix of slang, Shakespearean pentameter and English cockney that may at first alienate and create a wall between us and the savagery before us but as we get accustomed to this alien world and the so called performance art of these hoodlums as they dress up and revel in the twisted satisfaction derived from their violent antics we also get subliminally dependent on a befriending voice-over where Alex doesn’t miss a beat to call himself “your friend and narrator.” Yes you eventually start to care for a character you’d love to loathe! As we watch Alex transform into a convict, we see the film easing out its Shakespearen undercurrent and in that process this character of Alex becomes potently real and Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation of Anthony Burgess’s 1962 bestselling novel transforms into a cautionary social commentary that warns of both the dehumanization of society and the politics of Government that may “sell liberty for a quieter life.”
I love how Act 1 and 3 are inverted mirror images of each other. Where in Act 1 we see Alex in his home, streets and a small country cottage called ironically “home” (well he sure is at home when he’s evil!) preying on his unwilling and unwitting victims in Act 3 we see him revisit the same places and his victims who willingly and wittingly prey on him. These symmetries do wonder’s to ingrain the themes, contrasts and dilemma’s of the story.
Intriguingly worded in the quote above duality is the driving motivator of the story- good vs. evil, neutrality vs. commitment, man vs. government, moral choice vs. science, humanity vs. violence, intellect vs. intuition and at a metaphysical level the gripping impact of these opposing forces succeed in showing us the dynamics of the world and the often crude reality of it. Many a time repulsion to the radical sort of “evilness” we see unfold before us leads to an implicit understanding of its opposite- humanity. The long and short of it is sometimes you need to be starkly reminded how not to be to instinctively know how to be! Sadly at the time of its release many people missed the subtext of the film and were entertained and even mimicked the brutality which led to the film being banned in England.
Bold, eccentric, bitingly satirical, dark and disturbing-this is a Stanley Kubrick special that reminds us why Kubrick was indeed one of the sharpest, futuristic and most experimental film makers of his time.

Ira says

Disturbing, deeply affecting, and quite, quite brilliant. A Clockwork Orange is quite unlike anything you or I have ever seen and either of us is likely to see. A dystopian story about Alex, a young sociopath brainwashed by an authoritarian British government, Kubrik’s film version of Anthony Burgess’ classic novel is unabashedly, aesthetically, and masterfully violent, graphic, satirical, moving, confounding and evocative. A dense, unforgettable masterpiece, and a film you cannot shake off. For a long time to come.

The films opens in the Korova Milk Bar and an extreme close-up of the riveting, artfully painted, freakish Malcolm Mcdowell playing Alex our protagonist, as the camera zooms out slowly, we meet his four droogs sitting against the avant garde backdrop of a trippy stark, white, blue and red bar and you instantly realize, you aren’t going to be getting your familiar morning cuppa at the movies here. As the discordant notes of Kubrik’s fabulous sound score strike up, jarring your ears, resounding through the screen and in your head, and that crystal clear, absolutely pitch perfect, deliciously articulated voiceover begins, appy-poly-logies, but you are going to be sucked in, whether you like it or not.

Unafraid to hit you with stylized, almost beautiful violence, frightening cackles of laughter, Kubrik slams you head on with his hoodlums at play; ‘filliying with travelers of the night, hogs of the road’, young adolescent boys with a penchant for the macabre, a love for the senseless, a fetish for physical assaults, and brutal rape. These boys aren’t just boys, they’re strangely but similarly attired members of a teen subculture, they’re gazing at the camera with an unsettling intensity, they’re drinking milk that’s spiked with mescaline and they’re just about to plan another night of the ‘good old ultra-violence’.

A world of dystopian disturbia and searing social, political and moral satire ensues. Bashes, blows, nudity, expletives, Alex’s weird mesmerizing language, take over your senses because Kubrick is just unapologetic, in his writing, storytelling and characterizations. Singing in the Rain isn’t singing, and in no rain of any happy kind here. As lyrical as it was in Butch Cassidy last week, it’s as polar opposite in this one. As inspiring as you may have found Beethoven’s 9th symphony as you may have till now (I know I did and have ever since my music appreciation course at college), that’s as disconcerting as it will become for you here. And as much as you appreciate the wild, whacky, and experimental in Kubrik’s visual landscape, camera work, frames and interpretation, that much cleaner, detailed, clear, focused, sharp and intended is his plot progression and narrative. The structure-less takes form, and every scene has a meticulous role to play in the grander scheme of a very important film.

So much has been said about A Clockwork Orange, so much will be and the very form and content itself allows for numerous, and diverse interpretations. Universal themes of authority figures, teen rebels, individuality, morality, the very nature of society, culture, and human nature, Alex’s anti-hero character, his obscure, cryptic, language called Nadsat, and the dystopian vision of a futuristic Britain, are all as relevant today in a modern context, symbolic of counter culture, subculture, and a secret criminal code or jargon much like a modern day mafia and the clash between society and individual. But the real genius here is in how that dystopian universe comes alive on screen and that’s where this one becomes special because its in the hands of a one of a kind director. Kubrik’s storytelling roars, it doesn’t just sail along pleasantly; it hurtles along steadily, with a startlingly consistent force and an absorbing, increasingly layered narrative structure.

Fantastic music, (always such a crucial part of the directors’ films), accompany almost ninety percent of the films action, arc and plot graph. A pop colour driven, experimental, 60’s style, techno inspired production design and great art direction balance hard hitting, often uncomfortable, bizarre imagery. (Remember the trippy scene in the music arcade where Alex picks up two young women and takes them back to his bedroom?) And top of the game performances led by an outstanding McDowell; add the tour de force and life in the film. Notice how every actor seems to be speaking at a raised tone of voice. No, its not because Kubrik doesn’t think we can hear them, its because he wants us to hear them, drink them, chew them, spit them, digest them. And FEEL them. What really struck me too was the sheer energy of the performances themselves. As an actor, I can tell you, each scene, each mini scene in fact, must’ve been exhausting. And exhausted you feel by the end of watching it all. Stripped, drained, bashed, at times as jumbled up in your head as Alex’s Nadsat words sound to you, but still as riveted by each image Kubrik controls and holds in front of you, you cant help but be shaken up. And, trust me, it wont be easy to shake it off.