“Goodness is something to be chosen. When a man cannot choose he ceases to be a man.”

The term ‘Kubrickian’ is one to describe a filmmaker or film that reflects the works of the late Stanley Kubrick. But what does it really mean? There is a sense one develops in almost every single Kubrick film (usually considered those starting in 1957 with Paths of Glory (except for Spartacus). It is almost impossible to decipher. But Kubrick knew what he was doing. The atmosphere that develops in his films, and especially in A Clockwork Orange, is a sense that blurs the line between comedy and cruelty; between good and evil; and between discomfort and a soothing sensation. Its impossible to describe this feeling, this sense of perfection in every decision, but by simply watching A Clockwork Orange, it is possible to see how Kubrick makes films. I consider A Clockwork Orange either the or close to the greatest directed film of all time.

The film is based off the brilliant and complicated novel by Anthony Burgesses. Burgessess text is written in somewhat of a made up English slang (combined with some Russian slang), which became the first challenge for Kubrick. Some of the dialogue that makes up the first person narration is almost impossible to understand, but on screen, Kubrick has translated words into images.

The story follows one of an anti-hero, Alexander DeLarge, as played by the young Malcolm McDowell. Alex, as he is usually called, enjoys the usual stuff of his dystopic British future: ultra-violence, rape, and Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. He along with his “droogs” visit the Korova Milk Bar every night, drinking milk (that’s probably laced with drugs) before heading off to mug, beat, and commit the “ol’ in-out, in-out.” These earlier sequences begin the harsh reality of Kubrick’s vision. It is obvious from the first shot of the film (a strange close up of Alex’s head staring into the camera- a shot known as the Kubrick Stare) that Kubrick has decided that he does not care for the sympathy for the audience. They must submit to the power of his film.

In another powerful sequence, Alex and his droogs attack an old man and his wife. While preparing to rape her, Alex sings the title song from Singing in the Rain, which completely ruins that song for anyone whose seen the film. But in that sequence, it shows something. These kids have no idea what they are doing. They do what they think is cool. They have no other balance to tell them otherwise that they are doing wrong. The few parents and guardians that appear seem to have no clue about the understanding of authority. This film is full of disturbing images (you may recall when Alex first listens to Beehtoven he has a montage of history’s horrific events play through his mind) and one must understand instead of be horrified by them.

But as every person may guess, a bad child must be reformed. Alex is caught red handed in the murder of a woman (by a hilarious and inappropriate sculpture) and sent to prison. When he discovers a new technique that will free him immediately, Alex goes for it. The Ludovico technique is a painful process that submits Alex to watch horrific deeds similar to his own for hours everyday. The goal is to force Alex to make the right choice. But at this point, A Clockwork Orange goes from being a strange and sadistic dream and into a brilliant moral tale. As one man points out after seeing the “reformed” Alex, “Choice! The boy has not a real choice, has he? Self-interest, the fear of physical pain drove him to that grotesque act of self-abasement. The insincerity was clear to be seen. He ceases to be a wrongdoer. He ceases also to be a creature capable of moral choice.”

And what are we if we do not have choice? Is it our free will that defines us? Our ability to consider morality when committing deeds of either good or evil? As Kubrick and Burgesses suggested, without choice we lose our souls, our spirit, and our selves.

What makes A Clockwork Orange so sublimely strange is how subtly it plays the line between satire and a grind house flick. Despite the horrific events, there is a strange amount of humor within A Clockwork Orange. Besides Alex, almost every character is played up for laughs in both their descriptive look and their awfully cheesy dialogue. Consider the scene where Alex returns to the home of Mr. Alexander (Patrick Magee). Magee is so convicted into his absurd and upfront dialogue that it comes off as comedy instead of fearfulness. Yet we still fear his character. Many scenes play it up for laughs (at one point Alex imagines himself in the Bible as a Roman whipping Jesus). Kubrick always had another trick up his sleeve.

Another unforgettable part of this masterpiece is simply the images. This is a colorful film. And by colorful, I mean primary colors abound. Everything seems to be giving off a strange glow through its color scheme. The images are so perfect and haunting that its ultimately the images that will frighten you beyond belief. Kubrick was a perfectionist, sometimes asking for over a hundred takes of a single shot, and it shows. Every shot looks carefully planned out for the maximum artistic flow. Kubrick also had a sense of masochism on the set. He gave Alex a pet snake after learning that McDowell had a fear of them and recast the actress of one of the rape scenes when she had such a difficult time with it. But despite some of these ideas, this was Kubrick’s quickest film to be shot, edited, and finished in under a year.

One of the most controversial choices remains at the end of A Clockwork Orange. Kubrick deliberately left out the infamous Chapter 21 (which was originally published in England but not in America). That ending gives a somewhat epilogue to Alex’s adventures, but to Kubrick, undermines the brilliant idea of what makes moral choices. In the film’s ending, the viewer is left with the question of who can regulate such actions while the book simply gives an entirely different, and not as compelling answer to that idea. The final shot, a curious image of Alex copulating with a woman wearing only black stockings while a Victorian audience applauds, completes Alex’s transformation. As the titled suggests, A Clockwork Orange (Orange representing man), Alex has gone all the way around in his adventures, losing his moral compass, and then regaining it, even if it was not simply for the greater good. As he suggests, “I was cured all right.”

The response to the 1971 release of A Clockwork Orange was a divided one to say the least. It received an X-rating in the States for its brutal and horrific scenes of violence and rape. But it still garnered a nomination for Best Picture at the Academy Awards (losing to The French Connection). In Britain, the response was extremely negative, saying to influence young boys to commit the same atrocities. After too much negative response and many death threats, Kubrick pulled A Clockwork Orange from theaters, not to be available in any form until after Kubrick’s death in 1999. As for my own response, I was first completely confused. I understood exactly what Kubrick was trying to do, I just didn’t like that way. But after multiple viewing, the desensitization of the violence provided me with the intellect and almost a Brechtian distancing, which allowed me to truly understand this work.

A Clockwork Orange is an absolutely genius film. It pushed boundaries when released, taking such a difficult novel in both language and themes and turning it into a complicated tale of morals and dangers within society. The film is debated to this day after either genius or sadism. But it remains Kubrick’s most thorough and greatest work. By creating such a harsh borderline between satire and horror; between right and wrong; and between art and pornography, Kubrick created a unrivaled masterpiece.