The Task: Watch and write about every movie on my shelf, in order (Blu-rays are sorted after DVDs), by June 10, 2015. Remaining movies: 101 Days to go: 67
Movie #339: A Clockwork Orange
Sometimes there’s a reason I haven’t gotten around to seeing a movie. A Clockwork Orange came out before my time, but I’ve heard it discussed over the years. Most of that discussion centered around Alex (Malcolm McDowell) and the brutal violence he and his friends perpetrate. I’m not a fan of brutal violence, nor am I a huge fan of director Stanley Kubrick, so I opted out. Until now.
A Clockwork Orange isn’t as hard to watch as I feared. Despite a disturbingly cavalier attitude toward rape and sexual violence, most of the brutality happens off-screen or is given a cheeky veneer. It doesn’t make it less awful — it almost makes it conceptually more awful, actually — but the depictions on screen aren’t especially graphic. So while I was put off by the film, at least I wasn’t grossed out by it.
Rather than being hard to watch, actually, A Clockwork Orange is instead hard to listen to and comprehend. I estimate about 60% of the words spoken are complete nonsense, and even with the closed captioning on, it could be incredibly hard to follow. (My apologies if these words are legitimate British jargon, but somehow I doubt it. It’s crazily exaggerated jibber-jabber, like if Tom Haverford was a new-age hooligan.) The film is clearly making a statement about youth culture, along with violence and psychiatry and politics and the legal system and juvenile delinquency and probably a slew of other things, but I confess I’m not sure what that statement is. “We’re all fucked,” maybe? It’s Kubrick, so, entirely possible.
One thing I’m fairly certain of, though, based on the ever-changing hair color of Alex’s mom (Sheila Raynor), is that she’s likely the great-aunt of Effie Trinket, meaning the dystopian near-future of A Clockwork Orange is simply a precursor to the dystopian future of Panem. It tracks, too, because all the psychological experimentation, cruel prison system, and raging eccentricities of the populace could easily morph into those of the Capitol.
A Clockwork Orange was released in 1971, based on the book of the same name that came out in the previous decade, and around that time, treatises on government, free will and totalitarianism were at the forefront of the cultural landscape, so I guess you could say the film is a product of its time, tapping into the social unrest and revolutionary attitudes of entire movements. That landscape has changed drastically in the last forty years, however, so I’m not sure it makes the same impact as it once did. Then again, with certain factions of our society excusing the use of torture and police brutality in certain instances, perhaps the film is more timely than its era and setting might suggest.
The thing is, I could see people reacting to the movie in any number of ways, with a broad spectrum of emotions and insights. Whether positively or negatively, A Clockwork Orange sparks a reaction. It generates discussion and debate. In truth, that might be the most successful thing about it, and what makes it such a classically noteworthy film. Whatever else it does, it definitely makes one think.
Viable Option 