Ludwig Van Kubrick – A Clockwork Orange Review

The basic crux of the whole matter – the new good Christian is suicidal, dreads Beethoven’s 9th and has the inability to make the moral choice – though the empire, the structure dismisses that as a mere “subtlety of course!”

What does A Clockwork Orange talk about? Nothing and everything really! That is the whole darned beauty of it. And it does so with an odd panache, an acute sense of drama – so typically Beethoven. The movements rise and fall, they mingle, they deafen, they soothe and they cause an overwhelming catharsis – that, my friends, is the beauty of it all.

Is it a tribute to Beethoven also, by the by? Not a tribute, an inspirational drive perhaps, a reinforcement of the great master, in the way he did it the best. In style!

It pulls together everything from society – the swaying politician, well-meaning, yet twisted; the crazed mental scientists, proper intent at heart, but drowned in their own self-belief; cruel police officers, both good and the very bad; holy ministers, who scare people to raise belief in the Almighty, and yet demand that everyone deserves a choice; even fragile parents, torn between parental affection and societal implications of certain actions ruled by the mind rather than the heart – and the new Christian, the new human being, Alex (Malcolm McDowell).

Before Alex the demon breaks into the old lady’s house at the start of it all, he tells her, “I understand ma’am, with so many scoundrels going about, you never know whom to trust and whom not to” – something that we all understand and appreciate more often than not. And yet, when the ‘repaired’ Alex gets back, he sees the new lodger in his room in his parent’s house declare how he would never leave them to the hands of a sycophant. Now, does he want the room, or does he really care? Alex’s earlier quote comes ringing back and we see the same aspect from two different corners of the room. If the sun sets at one point, it also rises at the other. Cruel, evil world!

And this is a story that cannot be told. Actually it can be told, but it is Alex’s narration that has to be seen. Exactly, just not heard, but also seen. That is where Stanley Kubrick comes in. And he is a director that can never be spoken about; he only has to be seen. His vision is all that there ever is to anything that he makes. Be it 2001: A Space Odyssey or The Shining to name a few, it is what he does from behind the camera that is awe-inspiring. A piece of advice though – if you intent to watch this film, then either do it with the subtitles on, or if that irritates you, plug on your headphones to your computer. The dialogues may sell themselves off once in a while, due to the intermingled use of the Cockney accent. Not the director’s problem – we just have to get used to it.

But look at it in today’s context – petty thieves have now given way to dastardly terrorists. That is now the new word for evil on the streets. Therefore, if the sciences can come out with some method of completely altering someone’s criminal reflex at the cost of his moral decision making power, would that really be of much concern to the world at large? And even so, how would we know when it is being used for justice and when for petty ego gains?

Truly, such a complicated film of the 70s becomes so simplistic today.

Music to the eyes and inspiration for the ears – it all works like Clockwork!