2001 and the Culture of Youth
Robert Rohrbaugh: Concerning the effect that a movie has on
one's life, I saw 2001 for the first time in Cinerama 27 years ago
today (Aug 31, 1968). I was 12 years old at the time, had no idea of what
to expect when I entered the theatre, but when I left that night I was
"altered" for good. I was so overwhelmed with the experience that
2001 became my obsession for the next few years. When I started
college in 1974, I remember having my roomate drive me to a theatre that
was running 2001, where I sat through four showings at a time,
every weekend. As a result, I determined that I would do something
technology related (I am now an electronics engineer in the advanced
signal processing branch of the Navy's submarine acoustics lab). I still
watch 2001 occasionally, just for the sense of mystery that it
imparts to me - to acknowledge that there really are areas of
knowledge that we haven't begun to explore, and also in our everyday
experiences we totally ignore forces that aremuch more important and
enduring than our little day-to-day existence. It is difficult to think of
what might be a more important theme than the universe....
Tony Austin: 2001 had a similar life effect on me. I
was in college at the time and had taken a Cinema course where I wrote a
paper on Dr Strangelove. I knew nothing about Stanley Kubrick before, but
in researching this paper I came to realize he was a great director. Then,
2001 came out and I saw it in Cinerama. It blew me away and I saw
it several more times. Over the years I have seen it about 50 times, I
guess, and it is always inspiring. It remains my favorite film (nothing
else is even a close second) and Kubrick my favorite director (nobody else
is even a close second). In 1993, as close to April 1st as I could (the
date the film premiered 25 years earlier) I rented a print of the film and
rented a screening room and invited about 50 friends to come see it. I
plan to do it again in 2001. You're all invited.
Geoffrey Alexander: I'd just turned 9; in fact, it was as a
present for my birthday that my dad took me to see it. I was the
proverbial whiz-kid at science & the space program and knew all the
astronauts families' names & all the parts of a Saturn V, etc. ... The
River Hills Cinerama in Des Moines was across from my dad's office, and he
thought I'd like the movie, so he took me for my ninth birthday on August
1, 1968....
While I've never lost interest in science, I knew after that my focus
in life would really be more on those mysteries Robert speaks of... that
my favorite studies would become art, religion, philosophy, and (of
course) poetry, literature, and film...and that, whatever the medium or
form, I would be an artist. Here, after all, was a reality (or a
depiction of one) bigger, deeper, and broader than any I had ever seen,
especially when looking at the 'adult' world with it's ordinary, everyday
pathologies. Here, laid out, were all the 'deep mysteries' a young person
could want (and young people, it should be noted, have very real resons
for being enamoured of such things...). In any case, I wouldn't be who
I am without this film. And, of course, neither it (nor any Kubrick
film) has ever played anywhere within a literal 100 miles of me I didn't
attend....
John Morgan: 2001 was undoubtedly the first great
intellectual influence on my life, and perhaps the greatest. It also
affected me emotionally in a very powerful way. I saw it on TV
(unfortunately) when I was 9, mainly because I'd heard it mentioned in
connection with "Star Wars." (I remember my mother warning me that "It's
not like 'Star Wars.'") It immediately overwhelmed me. I became obsessed
with understanding the film. I read everything I could get my hands on
that was associated with it: Clarke's novel (and then Clarke's other
stuff), 2010, Agel's Making of 2001, books on space and science. I wrote
my first essays that were not for school, trying to figure everything out.
It led, over time, to so many of my other interests: first science and
science fiction, then later in my life to music, film, philosophy,
literature, history, psychology, writing. In essence, everything that is
important to me today. Years have gone by where I haven't seen it, but
whenever I'm about to go through a major change in my life, either
intellectually or otherwise, it seems like I go back to that film as a
sort of guide post, or perhaps as a reminder. Maybe I've lived my whole
life since the age of 9 trying to figure that damn thing out! ("I don't
suppose you know what the damn thing is?" "Wish to hell we did.") But
even when I see it now, it feels like the universe. It conveys such
a sense of enormity and vastness, of universality, that it was only
relatively recently in my life that I could look on it as something
produced by a human being. Even when I first saw it, before I could have
any idea of what the "meaning" of the film might be, it seemed so TRUE to
me. It conveys a sense of extreme urgency and importance, as though the
quest of humanity in the film is also your quest.
I wonder how many people had this experience? The film director Keith
Gordon (Midnight Clear) claims that he was inspired to go into
movies at the age of 8 when he saw 2001. Many other people have
told similar tales. Maybe 2001 has some strange, mind-expanding
effect on the young?
Of course, the best story is in The Making of 2001, in which
Agel recounts the story of a young boy who had to be dragged out of a
theater when he jumped up and started shouting, "This is God! This is
God!" at the screen during the Stargate sequence.
J.B.Summer: I have seen the film probably fifty times and
always learn something else new about me or the film when I see it.
I used to teach TV Production and Film Studies in college (five years
ago). I used to love to show the film to my class and observe their
reactions. I made it clear that I consider it ~The Greatest Film Ever
Made~. One student's honesty will never leave me..."With all due respect
to your taste in film, I think that's the worst film I've ever seen..."
HA! It would really get them thinking!! On their final exams, I used to
ask them what they considered to be the greatest film ever made.
They had to justify their answer. A significant number would always write
"2001, because you like it"...
If I could ever make a film, I would hope it would be as powerful.
If Kubrick had never shot another thing, it wouldn't make any
difference to me...
Joey Trum: John Lennon said it best when he said, "The movie
should be shown in a temple 24 hours a day." This is so true because
basically it is nothing short of a religious experience. The type of
awe-inspiring work of art that comes along once in a lifetime. When I
first saw the scene with the monkey cracking the bone down on the skull, I
felt unbelievable chills streak right down the back of my spine. When Hal
sang "Daisy, Daisy" before he was shut down, I literally wept in sorrow.
And as far as the end goes, take your guess? Right now I'm a senior in
high school and next year I'm going to NYU film school. 2001 was
without a doubt my chief influence in going into films. This film, among
others (most notably Fellini's 8 & 1/2) is one that I always have
in mind for any reference or visual I need. I consider Kubrick a genius
and the greatest director ever. He seems to have a knack for creating
breathtaking, awe-inspiring scenes. Like Slim Pickens riding the bomb in
DR. Strangelove.
Bill Markwick: I went to see 2001 nine times when it
first came out. It ran at the Glendale Cinerama (I think that was the
name) on Toronto's Avenue Road. If you have a copy of the Guinness Book of
World Records and you look up the longest theatrical run for a movie,
you'll find that theatre and "2001". I used to come out of the
theatre with my head spinning, and I've watched my poor little videotape
many a time. I only wish I had a way to explain to non-likers what it is
that we love about that movie.
S.D.Ryder: I understand your sentiment. I've probably shown
2001 to everyone I know hoping to find another who sees in the film
what I do, but to everyone I show it to, I get the same response : "So
what's that mean?" I think that their responses come from the fact that
I've told them that this film is incredible, etc. and when they watch it
with me they want me to tell them why it's incredible instead of allowing
the movie to envelop them the way it does me. Perhaps I should let them
watch it alone...
Ted Alexander: As a teenager the only other thing that left
me in as much awe as 2001, A Space Odyssey was the total eclipse of
the sun I witnessed in 1972. Now if there was a total eclipse somewhere in
2001 and a decent theatre nearby somewhere and ......well, anyway, it's a
neat idea to me.
N.Sinisi: The most dramatic "life effect" for me was the
ride home from the theatre after the first of many viewings. I was 11, and
totally awestruck by the film. I'd dragged my father to see it
(after all, he had the car!) and we talked about what we had seen
all the way home. We'd never before actually discussed a film
afterward, and we'd seen many together (and many afterward).
Randy Walters: I first saw 2001 in early 1969, a
month or two after it was released. I begged my father to take me to the
downtown Seattle Cinerama (yes, it really was in the amazing curved-screen
Cinerama format) and nearly 30 years later, it remains one of the core
experiences of my life.
I had been fascinated by the visions of the future that I had seen in the
photographs Life magazine published before the release, but I could not
have predicted the effect the film would have on me.
How can I describe an earthquake? Though the majority of 2001's
content can be described as coldly rational - HAL's actions, of course,
ultimately so - the "Beyond the Infinite" sequence was the first
intimation my 13-year-old brain had that *non-rational* forms of
consciousness and communication were possible.
Here were astonishing images, sounds, feelings I couldn't reduce to words
- and they still *meant* something, something unspeakably profound. My
words still can't come close to actually describing the experience;
imagine suddenly having the doors to a lifetime's prison of logic and
rationality sudden flung wide open by a flood of brilliant light and
overwhelming revelation... those few fleeting moments had (and continue to
have) more of an impact on my consciousness than any other single artifact
of Western art.
The second, and just as significant effect, was the tremendously
inspiring message that what I had seen was the vision of an individual -
that it was possible for one person's thought to reach out across time and
distance and profoundly affect an utter stranger. (Yes, I realize that SK
didn't do it all himself; but I hope we can agree that the final product
does indeed represent his individual vision.)
This impression has affected all my creative efforts since...well, I
haven't produced a 2001 yet... but I'm still working at
self-expression, and in a world that does it's damnedest to round off all
the sharp corners, there's something to be said for not giving up.
Tom Stern: Although not much different than the other accounts
printed there, does have an interesting turn- I actually became a film
maker. I have made one feature film (co-written and co-directed) called
Freaked. It was given a terribly small release by 20th Century Fox
(there's a long and horrible Hollywood story about that), but it has shown
quite a bit on HBO and is available in your better video stores (often in
the "cult movies" section).
I'm 31 and I think I first saw 2001 around 1972, when I was
seven. It was a truly wonderous, awe inspiring experience. I remember it
as an intellectual turning point in my life. I came out of the theater in
a heady euphoria, feeling as if I'd just been let in on the great cosmic
mysteries of all eternity. The best word to describe the new experience I
had on that day at the cruddy little Rome Theater in Pleasantville New
York is profound. I suddenly had a deep appreciation of the profundity of
life (and art) that I'd never considered before. No big answers, of
course. But 2001 somehow conveyed the questions in a way that a
seven year old could grasp on a deep intellectual/emotional level.
Profound. 2001 made me understand the meaning of the word.
In that way I agree it was a "religious" or quasi-religious experience.
My family was aethiest and I had no religion as a child. The realm of
ideas was given a somewhat exalted status as I grew up around dinner table
discussions of philosophy, astro-physics (layman level), and the universe.
But certainly there's a great human capacity, perhaps need, for wonder and
awe, and in that way 2001 filled the gap for my "Godless"
upbringing. I wonder how many who consider it a religious experience were
also believers in God.
I never got truly obsessed with the film. I've probably seen it less
than 10 times. And it wasn't until recently that I realized how important
seeing 2001 was in my ultimate decision to become a film maker.
Indeed, for many years I couldn't answer the question "who's your favorite
film maker?" because I didn't want to elevate any one of them to a unique,
special status. Now, however, I think I would answer Kubrick without much
problem. I love the films of Scorcese, Lynch, Bunuel, Cronenberg, early
Woody Allen, Terry Gilliam and others, but I do owe a special debt to
Kubrick for opening that inital door- for showing me the power of movies
to create wonder.
I went to NYU film school and fairly quickly began concentrating on
comedy, since it's always been a personal strength. Freaked is an
experiment in absurd comedy, and in fact fails on many levels, but hey, I
hear Fear and Desire ain't so hot either. As much as I love comedy,
I've always known that another ambition of mine is to make films that
inspire wonder, and I owe much of that to Kubrick's influence (a tiny
personal connection -- my uncle went to High School in the Bronx with the
great man. He says they called him "little Stanley Kubrick", thought he
was a total geek, and teased him all the time cause he had no friends and
would walk around the halls with his still camera. Uncle Artie became a
podiatrist).
After the financial failure of my first feature film (I made it at age
26 for 10 million -- same budget as 2001, minus 500% inflation),
I've been climbing back slowly to a position where I can convince money
people to invest in me. I get most of my income writing for film and
television. I wrote An American Werewolf in Paris, a sequel to
An American Werewolf in London, and it will be coming out next fall
from Disney (yikes!). Recently I've been reading some of Kubrick's
interviews; I've been fascinated by some of the things Kubrick has said.
Mainly I was intrigued to hear he doesn't do storyboards or plan lots of
camera-movements before he sees a rehearsal with actors. This is extremely
important. I had been coming around to that point of view slowly, through
experience, but it was 180 degree turn around for me. I used to
meticulously plan shots, but looking back, I can see how that cramped the
performances in my feature. Live and learn.
Geoffrey Alexander: I think this all more than adequately
demonstrates why 2001 has become an almost transcendent classic
(pun intended) -- there's a sense among most everyone who has been deeply
affected by the film that matters of great importance were impressed upon
the viewer, very powerfully and immediately -- not specific ideas perhaps,
but the 'significance' of issues which normally do not occupy our
immediate experience.
2001 puts the universe and what's behind it (or at least an
inference or intimation of same) right in our laps. Suffice to say that
for most average people -- and young people generally -- to encounter the
vastness of the universe not merely in regards to its spatial dimensions
but to its philosophical or even spiritual dimensions so immediately [that
word again...] has a lasting effect -- if one is lucky....
In this regard, I think a film is really no different than a book or
painting or symphony -- what a work is capable of doing is partly a
function of its inherent qualities, and partly a function of how it is
received -- which, in turn, is dependent very much on >who< receives it.
You'll note that many of the people who have been most deeply affected
first saw 2001 a) when they were young, and/or b) before they had
ever seen other big-budget scifi or effects-based films.
I'm not saying that the effect of 2001 is based purely in its
comparative visual richness -- but to those who came upon it back in the
mid-sixties -- having seen absolutely nothing like the realities
(real or imagined) it depicts -- the mythical and metaphorical implications
(which aren't shallow to begin with) were even more powerfully
communicated. Especially to young people who, unlike many adults, are not
burdened with assimilating the experience into some complex of
preconceptions.
Perhaps 2001 is truly, and most significantly, a film about
youth -- on an archetypical, indeed mythical level -- and
age, and it's destiny (certainly the way in which the film portrays the
'maturity' of the species is cautionary). That's all quite emblematic of the
Sixties....and how suitably ironic it is that this film about 'the future'
should arguably be the most significant and represenative film of its
particular era.