"Margaret
Stackhouse's speculations on the film [2001: A Space Odyssey] are perhaps the
most intelligent that I've read anywhere, and I am, of course, including all
the reviews and the articles that have appeared on the film and the many
hundreds of letters that I have received. What a first-rate intelligence!"
- Stanley Kubrick, circa
late 1960s
March 6, 1999
Guiding
my nephew Robby over to the kid's section, which was oddly situated next to the
horror section at Vince's Videos, I stood back waiting for him to pick out
something, knowing he was fond of Pinky and the Brain and Power
Rangers. Vince's seemed more active than usual for a Sunday, typically the
day everyone returned their tapes. I noticed a gathering of customers at the
classics section, and I heard someone say, "Stanley Kubrick died."
The words got my attention, "Stanley Kubrick died."
My mind drifted back to 1986 all squiggly TV lines/harp
sounds style when I worked at the video store to scrape through college, you
could do that with part-time job back then. My co-workers were a social melting
pot of working-class intellectuals, wannabee filmmakers, and college students
like me. Most of all I remembered Lisa.
Lisa
went to art school and for a time was the only female employee at the store,
although she later got a few of her friends hired. There was a power structure.
Video stores were a boy’s club, dudes endlessly debating the virtues and vices
of American cinema. It wasn't like the 20-something cinephiles of today who
proudly compare their Criterion Collections of Ozu and Bergman, Manhunter was
considered the pinnacle of cinema in Mid-Eighties Ohio. There were many
characters. A few I remember: Monroe made his own little films with Super 8 and
blustered on all day about his favorite cult classics like Bring Me the
Head of Alfredo Garcia and The Mack. Travis majored in
film studies, a sort of self-appointed cultural board of authority.
While
Monroe and Travis clashed all the time, Lisa often jumped into the fray,
pouring cold water on their egotistical rants. I typically stood clear when a
fracas between the three of them broke out, but they are lodged in my
memory.
If
Monroe and Travis had anything in common, it was their endless fascination with
Kubrick. Travis preferred the earlier New York City guerilla filmmaker fare
like Killer's Kiss and The Killing, both progressing
to the formalist precision of Paths of Glory and Dr. Strangelove.
Monroe argued A Clockwork Orange was the true masterpiece, a
dark and spectral vison of the future influencing all the arts from punk music
to comics.
On
that particular day, a customer was renting out The Shining,
providing Travis with the opportunity to recommend Kubrick's earlier work. A
trigger for Monroe, he butted in with his opinion, "Don't listen to
him, The Shining is great. You'll love it, almost as good
as A Clockwork Orange."
As
the customer walked out, Travis was pissed at Monroe, "Stop
interrupting me in front of customers!”
Monroe
cackled, "With all of your horrible recommendations I cannot remain
silent. Last week you recommended Balthazar to a five-year-old
child.”
Travis, always ready to for a sparring match, "The Shining is an overlong exercise for anyone's patience. Nicholson is in self-parody mode, and
Shelley Duvall cannot act."
Lisa
jumped into the fray, "Nothing's more obnoxious than a guy critiquing a female performance. What do you know of acting Travis?"
Travis in his most condescending tone sounding like a cardiologist
proclaiming a diagnosis, "Kubrick only cast her because of that helpless
look in her eyes. She was skilled at looking terrified - that's all."
Fed
up, Lisa threw a rhetorical wrench at them, "Besides, Kubrick is the most
overrated director of all time anyway."
They
both snickered with wry amusement.
Lisa
continued, "All of his movies are about male obsessions. Women are pretty
much absent."
Travis jumped in, "My point exactly. Shelley Duvall has nothing to
do but look terrified in The Shining. That sums up Kubrick's view
of women."
As
per usual, the discussion gave Monroe a chance to deliver a rant, "I don't
disagree with you Lisa. Most of his movies are fixated on men. Kubrick movies
are a rite of passage. The pointlessness of war and bureaucracy in Paths
of Glory and Dr. Strangelove. Spartacus and Lolita have
their moments, but they're minor. 2001 expanded the
possibilities of cinema, A Clockwork Orange made screen
violence electric, disturbing, and thought provoking. Barry Lyndon is
a beautiful, haunting film. The Shining is a masterpiece of
modern horror. We're obsessed with his movies for reasons that are difficult to articulate, but they hit something primal within us."
With
a fierce look in her eyes indicating she was about to strangle Monroe, "You're
full of shit. So full of shit."
Monroe cackled, "You know I'm right."
Lisa
demurred, "Nope. You do know it was a 15-year-old
girl who decoded 2001, way before all those male critics jumped in
with their own interpretations. Look, his films provide insights into the male psychology as you just went to great lengths to point out. They're all about
self-destruction. My takeaway from Kubrick: If the patriarchy isn't shattered
like right now, before the year 2000 at least, humanity is doomed."
Travis droned on about the humanistic messages embedded in Kubrick movies
and I tuned out. When Full Metal Jacket came out a year later,
I thought it paradoxically confirmed both Lisa and Monroe's points. The film acted as a warped recruiting
tool for the Marine Corps, perhaps even more successful than Top
Gun in the war propaganda department.
*
*
*
Robby
had decided to go with the Power Rangers video. On our way out
there was clerk, a dude, naturally, droning on about Kubrick and what a loss it
was for cinema. I got the sentiment, but his need to display expertise was
grating - and predictable. That’s it, one day people are wondering what your next project will
be, the next you shuffle off the mortal coil, and the trajectory of
conversations change. Stanley Kubrick was dead.