A Clockwork Orange (1971)
A Clockwork Orange (1971)
“In January 1972 a film
entitled ‘A Clockwork Orange’ appeared in the Warner West End
Cinema in Leicester Square … this would be no ordinary film. It proceeded to
ignite a serious controversy that penetrated all sections of society in a way
that was unprecedented in the history of cinema in Britain … During the
sixty-one weeks that it played to the British public, it preoccupied the
attention of politicians, the media, the church, the so-called protectors of
morality as well as the youth, police and local authorities of towns up and
down the country before its director, Stanley Kubrick, in the face of this
pressure finally banned the film from public exhibition.”
--- Christian Bugge
11. Introduction and plot
This is one of three SF film’s
Directed by the legendary Stanley Kubrick, it’s a Near-Future Dystopian nightmare
that appears on more lists of “Greatest Films Ever Made” than you can shake a
stick at. But I, a Heretic and Blasphemer, think it’s junk. Given its towering
reputation, historical context, and the complex ideas behind it (which I’ll
admit are there even as I hate it), it does require in-depth analysis, so, I
apologize in advance for how long this is.
OK, it’s well-made and in some ways
revolutionary, but it’s also thematically warped and expresses a contempt for Humanity
and all Moral systems in a manner that makes it almost unique in the history of
cinema. One could watch a Nazi propaganda film like “Hitler Youth: Quex, Our
Flag Leads Us Forward” (1933) and come away feeling less unclean than this one,
because though the Nazis hated lots of people, they didn’t hate absolutely
everybody the way this movie does.
Further, the female characterization
is piss-poor and that, a far too typical form of cinematic misogyny, is grotesquely
celebrated, best demonstrated with a then-unprecedentedly visceral torture/gang-rape/murder scene
that shockingly demeaned the Victims. Ken Eastleigh wrote (referring
to not only that one scene, but the tone of the entire film) that it was "unparalleled
in its concentrated parade of violence, viciousness and cruelty."
I should note that though the film is
quite visceral, it is never as graphic as it seems. Released in an era when
Hard-Core Pornography was suddenly semi-legal and hugely profitable, “A
Clockwork Orange’s” most notorious scenes had an impact of explicitness that
went far-beyond what was actually shown on film.
It’s based on Anthony Burgess’ novel
of the same name (first published in 1962) and set in what appears to be a
reasonably economically stable Near-Future (1980, so eight years beyond the
film’s release date) yet everything is falling apart anyway because of some deep,
but ill-defined, moral malaise. This has created an enraged Youth Culture who indulge
in drug-laced milk and meaningless violence for lack of anything better to do.
The main character is the vicious, but
also tremendously charismatic, 15-year-old delinquent named Alex Delarge
(played by Malcom McDowell, who was nearly 30-years-old at the time). He’s leader of a
vile foursome of teenage “Droogs” whose other members are Dim (Warren Clarke), a slow-witted bruiser, Georgie (James Marcus), resentful of his secondary position, and Pete (Michael Tarn, the only actual
teenager playing a teenager), who’s mostly along-for-the-ride
because he wants the protective comradery and to indulge in “Ultra-Violence.”
One night, roughly half-way through
the film, they go too far, pointlessly beating and crippling Frank Alexander (Patrick Magee) and gang-raping and murdering his wife, Mary (Adrienne Corri), while singing a song. Days later, when the police come,
only Alex is captured, in part because his gang has started to turn against
him. He’s sentenced to fourteen years in Prison (that seems a little light to
me, but remember, despite his appearance, Alex is supposed to be 15, so a minor).
A Prison Chaplin (Godfrey Quigley) tries to reform Alex but
is cruelly mocked in Alex’s voice-over (like almost all Kubrick films, it
relies heavily on narration). Two years into his sentence, Alex agrees to
undergo the experimental Ludovico Treatment,
an Aversion
Therapy promising to rehabilitate even the most hardened Criminals
in only two weeks. When Alex says, "I just want to be good,"
he’s lying, he doesn’t think the experiment will work, he just can’t wait for new
opportunities for mayhem and rape. Importantly, his joining the program comes
only moments after a scene wherein he attended Bible study and had a sexualized
fantasy of being a Roman Centurion at Christ’s Crucifixion; he likes the Ultra-Violence
peppered throughout the Bible, but is immune to its Moral instruction.
Chaplain responds, "The question
is whether or not if this technique really makes a man good.
Goodness comes from within. Goodness is chosen. When a man cannot choose, he
ceases to be a man."
As the film mocks the Chaplin for this
naïve morality, so maybe Kubrick was arguing that it is actually a good idea to
have some of the irredeemable re-programed by the awesome power of the State,
that some Droogs deserve Brain-Washing.
Except that Kubrick then mocks that idea
too.
One of the side-effects of the
treatment is that Alex can no longer tolerate the sound of beautiful Classical
music (specifically Symphony No. 9 by Ludwig Beethoven (composed between 1822 -
1824)). This is an absurd notion, but it’s in the book, proves to be an essential plot point, and an
important bridge into how Kubrick was using the film as his explication of the
philosophies of German Philosopher Fredrick
Nietzsche. The Nietzsche part represents the film’s most
important break from the novel, which it’s otherwise surprisingly faithful too
(I’ll address that more fully, later).
Alex is released from prison, but is homeless.
Though the Aversion Therapy has successfully left him incapable of hurting
others, it also left him incapable of defending himself. He’s repeatedly,
viciously, humiliated and beaten. He’s even unjustifiably assaulted by the
Police because their ranks are now filled with ex-gang members, notably Dim and
Georgie.
After these humiliations and attacks,
Alex accidently lands up at back Frank’s house. Frank takes him in, and is kind
to him, but only because he doesn’t immediately recognize that Alex is the
young man who crippled him and raped and murdered his wife. When Frank realizes
who Alex is, he and his friends conspire to drive Alex to suicide by bombarding
him with Classical music.
Alex barely survives. There’s a public
outcry about the cruelties of the Ludovico Treatment, so Alex is re-conditioned. The film ends
triumphantly as Alex is freed from the Brain-Washing to become the same vicious
Predator he was when the film began.
22. Some stuff about the novel: the language
The film does maintain a lot, but not
all, of the Burgess’ novel’s philosophical themes -- present and accounted for
are the arguments about the nature of free will and attacks on the ideas B.F.
Skinner, but the most important thing retained was the novel’s amazing
language. The novel was mostly first-person narrative told in an invented Russian/English Argot called "Nadsat" (taken from the Russian suffix for “teen”). Its words
are both alien and lucid. The opening
lines of the novel were:
“'What's it going to be then, eh?'
“That was me,
that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim, Dim being
really dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar making up our rassoodocks what to
do with the evening, a flip dark chill winter bastard though dry.”
These sentences should make no sense at
all, but magically they do, a perfect demonstration of Burgess’ genius.
Watching the movie, as opposed to
reading the book, is easier on the audience, because Actors give the cold-text
emotional inflection and physical demonstration. Think about reading vs
watching the works of William Shakespeare -- the meanings of many of the words
have changed meaning over the last 400-plus years, so, seeing it, we know it
better than when we read it.
The first version of this story was not
SF, and penned when Burgess was certain his was soon to die of
brain cancer. Surprisingly surviving, and wanting to expand on the story,
Burgess realized that if continued using the then-current slang of his day’s
Delinquent sub-cultures, the Suedeheads, Teddy Boys, Mods, and Rockers, the
work would be dated faster than he could get it published, so he made the tale
SF and invented his now famous, and decades later, still compelling Argot.
The
Russian basis was in part because Burgess was fluent in it, in part because it
was a sly joke to make use of it during the height of the Cold War (the worst
year of the Cold War was 1962, the same year the book was published), but also driven
by personal experience. In 1961 Burgess spent a summer in Soviet Russia where
he observed that the Oppressive Regime was having almost as much trouble
controlling its disenchanted Youth Culture as the more Liberalized England and
USA. The Russian delinquents were known as the “Stilyagi,” or “Style-Boys.”
Burgess later said, “It struck me that it might be a good idea to create a
young kind of hooligan [that] … spoke an argot compounded of the two most
powerful political languages in the world -- Anglo-American and Russian. The
irony of the style would lie in the hero-narrator being totally unpolitical.”
33. Some more stuff about the novel:
Christianity
Burgess
was a lapsed-Catholic who remained obsessed with the self-declared “Universal”
faith for the rest of his life. He saw this story as “a sort of allegory of
Christian free will. Man is defined by his capacity to choose courses of moral
action. If he chooses good, he must have the possibility of choosing evil
instead. I was also saying that it is more acceptable for us to perform evil
acts than to be conditioned into an ability only to perform what is socially
acceptable."
Burgess
was born of a minority Religion in a country, England, that had a long history
of oppressing his Church, though that was not so much an issue by the 20th
c. His awareness of past oppressions remained keen though, and this might seem
to make him more likely to conform to the Papacy than rebel, but somehow the
lessons of oppression he learned from England’s older, darker, days hurt his
personal relationship with the Church that dominated him. Over-simplifying, I’d
suggest that the guy who should’ve become more Catholic because of stories
about evils of Henry VIII, became less Catholic because his local Priest
reminded him of Henry VIII. From his essay, “The God I Want” (1967):
“The God my religious upbringing forced
upon me was a God wholly dedicated to doing me harm. That’s pretty much what my
elders said — priests and nuns and relatives, as well as the penny catechism. A
big vindictive invisibility.”
Elsewhere he stated, “As an English schoolboy brought up on the history of
the Reformation, I came to reject a good deal of Roman Catholicism, but
instinct, emotion, loyalty, fear, tugged away.”
Breaking
with Catholicism, he flirted with both Islam and Manichaeism (a dualistic, and
almost extinct, religious community that never-the-less continues to evoke
fascination among many dissatisfied with the faith they were brought up with).
Surprisingly, the Liberalizing Vatican II reforms (issued in 1962, the same
year the novel was published) didn’t impress him, but he was also unimpressed
with the various Protestant doctrines, so he was ever-circling the faith of his
birth, never embracing, never letting go. Burgess, himself, remarked, “I want
to be one of them, but wanting is not enough”
In 1989, Burgess stated, “Christ used the term ‘the
kingdom of heaven’ — it is a metaphor. I don’t think it refers to a real
location. I think it is a state of being in which one has become aware of the
nature of choice, and one is choosing the good because one knows what good is.”
This is reflected in much of his fiction, and
specific to this novel, was this observation, “The novel is an unredeemabley
profane form, and that saints can’t belong there [except maybe they] can, so
long as they are willing to be sinners first.” Apparently, Burgess’ favorite
Catholic Philosopher was Augustine of Hippo, who was a bit of a party-animal when he was
young, but lived a life of austere spiritualism later. Augustine’s most famous,
funniest, and most disingenuous, line was, "Grant me chastity
and continence, but not yet."
Probably important
was Burgess’ attraction to the 5th c. Pelagian Heresy, which, ironically,
Augustine spent a good part of his Church career railing against. The Heresy denied
the concept of Original Sin and therefore the necessity of Baptism, and stated
were we born essentially good, our corruption and redemption are self-created, so
it stressed Free Will more than most other expressions of Christianity. It’s
founder, Pelagius, found most Christians morally slack because they were
blindly obedient, and so argued that obedience wasn’t the source of true Grace
or Morality, though instruction could be a good guide to harnessing the power
of Free Will for the Good. Augustine
counter-argued the man was dependent on God’s Grace and Doctrinal Rigor to be
redeemed, and without Divine Intervention, man was largely helpless against the
allure of sin. Augustine ultimately won the argument and Pelagius was excommunicated in 418.
This suggests
that the novel was a secularized version of a running argument between
Augustine and Pelagius. Kubrick’s statements seem to reflect this, but without
any hint of Christianity, “I think that when [Jean-Jacques]
Rousseau transferred the concept of original sin from man to society, he was
responsible for a lot of misguided social thinking which followed. I don't
think that man is what he is because of an imperfectly structured society, but
rather that society is imperfectly structured because of the nature of man. No
philosophy based on an incorrect view of the nature of man is likely to produce
social good.”
Vital here
is the novel’s legendary “lost chapter,” chapter Twenty-One (a symbolic number), that was initially missing only from the USA editions, but restored decades
ago in every edition published now-a-days.
Kubrick’s mostly-faithful adaptation chose to exclude it, so we
never get to see the
Monstrously Evil Alex tire of his own Violence and begin to ponder integrating more
responsibly into Society, despite his earlier triumphs over all attempts of both
Reform and Control, so Alex’s consideration of Redemption was rebellion against,
not any System, but his current Self.
Georgie, unlike in the film, wasn’t one of Alex’s later tormentors,
but dead after a pointless fight. And Pete proved to be a self-reformed man.
Contrasting his life to Pete’s, Alex fears his own future children will prove
to be as bad, or worse, than he. Alex even allows a tender fantasy to intrude:
“There was Your Humble
Narrator Alex coming home from work to a good hot plate of dinner, and there
was this ptitsa [girl] all welcoming and greeting like loving. . . . I had this
sudden very strong idea that if I walked into the room next to this room where
the fire was burning away and my hot dinner laid on the table, there I should
find what I really wanted. . . . For in that other room in a cot was laying
gurgling goo goo goo my son. . . . I knew what was happening, O my brothers. I
was like growing up.”
It's actually pretty sad, because I
think most readers will not believe Alex can Reform, but that’s not really the
point -- Alex is thinking about Reforming, and whether he succeeds or not, he
wants it, and he reached that want on his own.
Though USA publishers had deleted that
chapter (it is still a matter of debate of how hard Burgess objected to this),
Kubrick lived in England at the time, so it’s improbable that he was unaware of
it. Kubrick’s explanation sounds self-serving, but was perhaps sincere, “I had not read
this version until I had virtually finished the screenplay … as far as I am
concerned, unconvincing and inconsistent with the style and intent of the book.
I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the publisher had somehow prevailed upon
Burgess to tack on the extra chapter against his better judgment, so the book
would end on a more positive note. I certainly never gave any serious
consideration to using it.”
So, this is a film with one of the
rawest rape scenes in cinema history, made worse because there’s no sympathy
for the victims, and the Droogs are engaging in the cruelty in a manner they
perceive as comical; it totally ignores Burgess’ themes of Moral consideration,
and equally demeans the Spiritual impulse to Reform and the Authoritarian
impulse to Control. The film’s ultimate message seems to be that nothing can be
done with Alex because he’s just a demonstration of “boys will be boys,” and, in
fact, celebrates that.
44. Some more stuff about the novel: B.F.
Skinner’s mommy wears army boots.
Burgess
argued that Free Will must exist, and if it doesn’t, we are a false biology,
more a robot, “A Clockwork Orange.” Humans really need to have to have more to
say for themselves than Pavlov’s dogs, that famous experiment from the 1890s
wherein Psychologist Ivan Pavlov demonstrated
he could manipulate certain biological functions through outside conditioning.
The demonstration was that if you ran a bell before feeding the dog, eventually
the bell ringing would trigger the dog to salivate even if it couldn’t see or
smell the food. This would become the
basis of all Therapies that emphasize Route-Conditioning. The fact that this
foundational research is so much older than the novel has some baring on the
next few paragraphs.
Importantly, Burgess wasn’t raging against Pavlov, as the
novel implicitly supports some mannerisms of the Conditioning Pavlov’s research
demonstrated -- the story is explicit that the out-of-control Youth Culture is dangerous because, well, Youth Culture
was out-of-control. Alex viewed Authority Figures (specifically Prison staff)
as idiots, but they didn’t come off as idiots to the reader.
Criminologists have long observed that the worst crimes are generally
committed by people younger than 35-years-old (usually male). In the novel has
Alex is reconsidering his idiot violence at (presumably) the age of 21.
Burgess simultaneously distrusted State-established
Moralities and saw Punishment, or at least Discipline (both forms of Conditioning),
as necessary for keeping kids from becoming Monsters in those three-long-decades
before their own biology kicks in to make them (usually) less Monstrous
(almost) automatically. (I should note that Burgess was nearing 50 when he
wrote the book). So, Burgess wasn’t attacking Pavlov, but instead, another guy influenced
by Pavlov, namely B.F. Skinner.
Skinner
was another Psychologist, born in 1904 so almost the exact moment Pavlov’s
research became well-known. Pavlov was a Russian whose major work was under the
last two Czars, so just barely before Communism became a
Civilization-redefining Political force. Skinner, on the other hand, was from
the USA, raised with all the benefits of Liberal Democracy, but saw little
value in it:
“When Milton's Satan falls
from heaven, he ends in hell. And what does he say to reassure himself? 'Here,
at least, we shall be free.' And that, I think, is the fate of the old-fashioned
liberal. He's going to be free, but he's going to find himself in hell.”
Skinner
believed in the perfectibility of man, and committed his professional life to
figuring out how to do it. Not
believing in Free Will even on the conceptual level, he saw all choice as
dependent on consequences of previous actions, an obvious idea called the “Principle
of Reinforcement” but could also be summarized as “once
burnt, twice shy.” If the consequences to an action are bad, there is a high
chance it will not be repeated; if the consequences are good, the probability is
that the action will be repeated is high. Turning that into a practical Therapy
is called “Radical Behaviorism.”
In fairness to Skinner, up to a point, his ideas
work, just as, up to a point, everything obvious works. As Burgess was
attacking Skinner, the question begs, was Skinner really that much of an
over-the-top radical? Well, Skinner’s most important work was “Beyond Freedom
and Dignity” (1971, the same year the film was released, I’ll get back to that).
In it he stated:
“What we need is a technology of behavior… [and that
is] already well advanced, and it may prove commensurate with our problems …
scientific analysis shifts the credit as well as the blame [for behavior] to
the environment … [and doing so makes consideration of the] mind … an
explanatory fiction.”
Skinner’s Political Ideology was a little hard to
pigeon-hole as Left- or Right-leaning because, though a lot od it is Authoritarian, the concept itself could lean either way. I favor Stephen Foster’s
interpretation, suggesting Skinner was closest to the Marxists:
“I will take B. F. Skinner to be the
principal representative of behaviorism. It is my contention that both Marxism
and behaviorism as complete views of man (which they both claim to be) are
forms of dogmatic ideology. … I would emphasize the term ‘visionary’ in this
definition and apply it to both Marxism and behaviorism to emphasize the fact
that both systems extend their visions into
political programs, that is, both envisage their systems as potential social
systems which vastly improve human conditions.”
As far as I know, Skinner never explicitly, publicly, embraced Communist Re-Education Camps, but I find it impossible to conclude he hated the idea behind them, because the idea was sorta his.
“A Clockwork …” was one of
only a handful of SF novels Burgess published during a career that spanned more
than fifty books, including at least twenty-two book-length fictions. Here, he
tapped into ideas common in Dystopian SF that were as old as the Genre itself,
but the best of the early articulations was probably Aldous Huxley’s novel “Brave New World” (1932), a Dystopian vison of Radical
Behaviorism that included the masses being forced through Route-Conditioning to reinforce a caste system and Pharmaceutical manipulation of emotions, and it came out before any of Skinner’s
major publications.
Skinner, himself, started getting broadly known with the
publication of his own SF novel, “Walden
Two” (1948), a Utopian vision based on
his ideology. His ideas were strengthened and further radicalized in his
non-fiction, “Verbal Behavior” (1958). The latter inspired a savagely critical
analysis by the famously Left-leaning Linguist Noam Chomsky, which would
eventually have equal impact on practical Therapies as Skinner, and today,
probably more.
One would think that the traumatic experience of both Hitler and
Stalin should’ve made the West more resistant to these Tyrannical ideas, but
the terror that Hitler and Stalin somehow perversely made them more attractive,
like a love of Tyranny that dare not speak its name. On both the Left and Right
many who gave lip-service to rejecting Tyranny quickly turned around and did
the exact same thing that they condemned. Skinner, himself, seemed influenced
by fear of Nuclear Armageddon, believing that only Radical Behaviorism could
save mankind from destroying itself.
So, Skinner’s ideas evolved from ideas
that pre-date him, and were known as his ideas even before his most famous book
came out in 1971. Much of SF prose and film expressed a profound hatred of
these ideas even in cases where it is unlikely the Writers and Directors were
aware of who this guy actually was; the films “Invasion of the Body Snatchers”
and “It Conquered the World” were both released the same year, 1956, and both
were centrally concerned with Ideological denigration of Free Will and loss of Individuality and Emotion
in service of some Utopian abstract; both were obviously
politically-minded films, but one would be hard-pressed to definitively establish if either were
Left- or Right-leaning. Seemingly Leftist Skinner’s most effective critic was
Leftist Chomsky. Burgess, whose stated politics was a highly-exotic form of
Conservativism that sometimes flirted with Anarchism, had a Right-wing
government applying Skinner’s ideas in its reaction to their fears of
out-of-control Youth Culture.
All this underlines the meaningless-ness of
Right/Left arguments in this context. Ideologies seem to be a caboose
attached to Realpolitik (“politics or diplomacy based primarily on considerations of
given circumstances and factors, rather than explicit ideological notions or
moral and ethical premises”), and the foundation of everything, Left or
Right, seems to be we’re all fundamentally afraid of the same things.
If fairness to Kubrick, the Skinner-hatred is part of the novel that he totally nailed. Kubrick himself said, “It is a story of the
dubious redemption of a teenage delinquent by condition-reflex therapy. It is,
at the same time, a running lecture on free-will.”
Death Penalty politics
play into all this even though the Death Penalty is not an issue in either
novel or film (again, because, no matter how old he looked in the film, Alex was only
15). The Death Penalty was still legitimate in England when the novel was
published, but abolished by the time the film came out. The last two men
executed legally in England were Gwynne Evans and Peter Allen in 1964, they
were guilty of a pointless murder during a petty robbery that reflected the
same idiot savagery of the novel’s Droogs. Evans and Allen died the same year
of their crime, suggesting there was political pressure to get the executions
over-with fast, because the Death-Penalty was increasingly, politically, unpopular.
Since the executions, Evans has received the most attention because of evidence
of severe mental illness -- had that been argued at his trial, he likely wouldn’t
have been hung.
Kubrick was clearly conscious of the
Death-Penalty debate, but didn’t view his fictional Alex and a stand-in for the
Real-World Evans. “It
must be clear that it is wrong to turn even unforgivably vicious criminals into
vegetables, otherwise the story would fall into the same logical trap as did
the old, anti-lynching Hollywood westerns which always nullified their theme by
lynching an innocent person. Of course, no one will disagree that you shouldn't
lynch an innocent person -- but will they agree that it's just as bad to lynch
a guilty person, perhaps even someone guilty of a horrible crime? And so, it is
with conditioning Alex.”
This brings up how little SF is actually in the
novel or the film, most of the story was bleakly of-the-moment. The SF seems
restricted to the visualization of this exceptionally convincing Near-Future
(Production Design by John Barry, Costumes by Milena
Canonero). Also the idea of recruiting Police from Criminal Gangs, which
was not a policy in England at the time, had been repeatedly employed in the
past (those who know Irish History realize the Easter Rebellion of 1916 would’ve
impossible if the Radical Republicans hadn’t been able to win over those who
would’ve been satisfied with Home Rule, and the radicalization of the Home Rule
guys was largely because the English had recruited their vilest enforcers, the
Black and Tans, straight out of prison and unleased those thugs on the
innocent). As for the Ludovico Treatment, it’s an exaggeration, but only barely --
extremely cruel Aversion Therapies were already in common use, they just
weren’t as effective as the film’s SF version.
Alex being tortured by the State is as famous a scene as the
torture/gang-rape/murder that he committed earlier in the film. He’s injected with a
drug that induces nausea and must then watch films of the kind of violence he
was guilty of, his head immobilized and eyelids held open so he can’t look away
(Actor McDowell’s eye was injured while filming that scene). Classical music is
played during this display. Before long, any thought of violence or hearing the
music caused him to collapse and vomit even without the drug.
Even before the novel was published, Doctors were trying to “cure”
Homosexuals by injecting them with Apomorphine, a nausea-inducing drug, while
showing them pictures of male nudes.
Aversion Therapies were applied to other
conditions as well. One of the films early defenders was Peter Thompson,
Chairman of the “Festival of Lights,” part of a campaign against permissiveness
in media that allowed films like “A Clockwork …” to exist. He seemed an odd
defender, especially since he led the crusade against Director Ken
Russell’s film, “The Devils,” the same year, but with “A Clockwork …” he
was influenced by personal experience -- he’d been a patient in Broadmoor's Special
Hospital from 1965-69:
“To someone who has committed violent acts of and who
has been mentally ill, this film has a lot to say to society. It is my honest
opinion that this is the best film I have ever seen. I felt like I was reliving
my own experiences. In Broadmoor they have drugs that bring you out in rashes ...
Alex's aversion therapy seems to me to be the exact equivalent to 900mg of
Largatil.”
The cruel applications of Skinner’s ideas are not
really in dispute anymore, but an important thing to remember is that cruel
treatments of the mentally ill are still treatments for illness. Nothing in the
novel or film suggest Alex is mentally ill (not even having a presumed illness
that’s not actually an illness, like Homosexuality), he’s just a bad kid. Law
tries (imperfectly) to make that distinction, and in our own lives, I think we
all do, being more tolerant of the confused than the vicious. Skinner’s ideas
led to bad treatments for bad diseases, but when applied to a man who is not diseased, but simply morally bad, like Alex, it is pure Totalitarianism.
"Being
the adventures of a young man whose principal interests are rape,
ultra-violence and Beethoven"
n From the original movie poster
Subtly, but significantly, the novel’s Alex is different from
the film’s. Both are more intelligent and charismatic than their fellow Droogs,
but the novel’s Alex is more given to self-pity as a mechanism for Moral Evasion
than the film version. He’s also worse a Predator in the book, committing more Murders and Rapes (including two 10-year-old girls) and is cruel to animals. In
a way, this makes McDowell’s tremendously powerful performance perversely one
of the reasons why the film went so wrong: In the novel’s Alex likes to feel
like a God, but he’s really a loser (and a child), while the film’s Alex is
always smiling, never a hypocrite during his voice-overs, and is convincingly beyond
concerns of Good and Evil (and appears as a full-grown man). Worse still, when
the Treatment is reversed and he gets his pseudo-God-hood back, the film ends
right then-and-there, triumphantly, or, as the Alex’s narration tells us, “I was cured all right.”
Critic Roger Ebert, who
hated the film, nailed the distinction between the two Alex’s perfectly, “Yet I
don't pin the rap on Burgess. Kubrick has used visuals to alter the book's
point of view and to nudge us toward a kind of grudging pal-ship with Alex.”
Before
the film is over, Kubrick was attacking the Left and Right almost equally. The
Conservative Minister of the Interior, Fredrick (Anthony Sharp), is a Villain
because he embraces the Ludovico
Treatment as a short-cut to a more perfect Social Order, while Victim,
Frank, becomes a Villain because he extracts Revenge on Alex for the opposite
ideological reasons; he and his friends are all saying that what they are doing
was to end:
“Recruiting brutal young roughs into
the police; proposing debilitating and will-sapping techniques of conditioning.
Oh, we've seen it all before in other countries; the thin end of the wedge!
Before we know where we are, we shall have the full apparatus of totalitarianism.”
That’s
supposed to mean that their reason for driving Alex to Suicide will bring down
the corrupt Government.
Screw what Frank says, he wants personal
Revenge, the lowest of our Moralities, born of unbearable pain. But as Kubrick treats Frank with no compassion, it is as if
Kubrick actually thinks what Frank says is his actual motivation. Frank
is less likable than Alex, but then, everyone is less likable than Alex, not any
Victim, not any Reformer, not any Authoritarian, only the pure Predator is
appealing.
Kubrick said Alex, "[H]e has winning qualities: his
total candour, his wit, his intelligence and his energy; these are attractive
qualities and ones, which I might add, which he shares with Richard III … You should feel nothing but dislike
towards Richard, and yet when the role is well played, with a bit of humour and
charm, you find yourself gradually making a similar kind of identification with
him. Not because you sympathize with Richard's ambition or his actions, or that
you like him or think people should behave like him but, as you watch the play,
because he gradually works himself into your unconscious, and recognition
occurs in the recesses of the mind.”
Umm
… but in “Richard III” (play written
c. 1592–1594) William
Shakespeare didn’t display disdain for every other character except for wicked Richard.
Burgess’
novel was Christian parable (though in a very weird way), while Kubrick’s film
was pure Nietzschean.
66. Kubrick’s love of Nietzsche
The Nietzschean idea (or
ideal) seems to have its origins in
Charles Darwin's Theory of Evolution
(“On the Origin of Species by Means of
Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for
Life” 1959). Fredrick Nietzsche saw life as
"a struggle for existence in which the fittest survive, strength is the
only virtue, and weakness the only fault." This is often called
“Social Darwinism,” though Darwin himself found the idea despicable.
Nietzsche,
though an Atheist, used the Divine as a metaphor, arguing that the
spirit of man is best expressed in the contrast between two
Classical Greek gods: Dionysus and Apollo.
Dionysus was
"the god of wine and revelry, of ascending life, of joy in action, of
ecstatic emotion and inspiration, of instinct and adventure and dauntless
suffering, the god of song and music and dance and drama."
Apollo, on
the other hand, was "the god of peace and leisure and repose, of
aesthetic emotion and intellectual contemplation, of logical order and
philosophic calm, the god of painting and sculpture and epic poetry."
In Nietzsche's eyes,
primitive man is Dionysian in spirit, led by
instinct and living in the moment, but lacking intellectual abilities. Modern
man artificially made himself Apolloniean,
conquered by Democracy, Socialism, Judeo-Christianity
and Buddhism. There was a threat that the last vestiges of instinct could
be extinguished
by the Apolloniean. Though Nietzsche, himself, was raised in
comfort, and in a Christian house-hold, he seemed obsessed with the inner-Barbarian that, in Real Life, he seemed to never express outside his writings.
Nietzsche
maybe the greatest writer to explore Ecstatic Nihilism, he clearly wanted to
burn it all down, then dance in the ashes, believing that purity could only
emerge after all hypocrisy was washed away. He rejected Reform and wanted
something even more dramatic than Revolution, which was why the Nazis were
attracted to him, even he didn’t hate Jews and held Nationalism in contempt, so
one must wonder if his Nazi fans ever actually read him.
Importantly, Nietzsche
believed in the idea of an “Übermensch,”
or Superman, a Dionysian,
“return to nature, although it is not really a going
back but an ascent - up into the high, free, even terrible nature and
naturalness." The Übermensch
would regain man's lost
instinct, be Beyond Good and Evil, and entitled to anything and everything
simply because of his superiority.
But, to Nietzsche,
the Übermensch wasn’t the final fulfillment of
mankind’s destiny, but a step along the way to a kind of mortal God-hood, and
maybe not-so-nasty when the day was done -- but the not-so-nasty could only be
achieved after a Transcendence that required the whole corrupt world burn down
first. Weirdly, in this Post-Apocalyptic landscape, sounding so much like a “Max
Max” movie (first film 1979), Nietzsche
seemed to think we’d all become monks.
Kubrick referred
Alex as "natural man
in the state in which he is born, unlimited, unrepressed." The
film included that in the dialogue, "Thinking was
for the gloppy [stupid] ones. The oomny [intellectual]
ones used, like, inspiration..." Alex existed in a weird
plane between the stupid and the intellectual. As inspiration was
supposed to be Dionysian, while contemplative thought is Apollonian,
and Alex chooses the stupid, and Kubrick made a clear choice by elevating Alex
to Übermensch which clearly wasn’t in the novel.
Kubrick
wrote this script with less input from others than was the case in most of his
other films. Alex
is this movie’s only well-developed character, and because of that, McDowell offers
the film’s only really compelling performance. Kubrick’s world, even more than Burgess’,
it’s Alex, and only Alex, all the way through.
Alex's love of music is
not sophisticated, purely emotional, and in Alex’s head, it was the inspiration
for murder and rape, which is the most anti-Apollonian response to Beethoven
that one could imagine. It also helped encourage cinema’s increasingly frequent
use familiar songs ironically in violent sequences, like how Lynyrd Skynyrd’s
song “Free Bird” (1973) was used in the climax of the film “The Devil’s
Rejects” (2005). Kubrick was decades ahead of Director Rob Zombie, and I think
we can safely associate Alex’s love of Beethoven with Real-World Nazis
well-documented love of Classic Music.
Kubrick, defending
his film, said something that suggests maybe what we saw wasn’t what he
intended. “Although he is partially concealed behind a satirical disguise, the
prison chaplain, played by Godfrey Quigley, is the moral voice of the film. He
challenges the ruthless opportunism of the State in pursuing its programme to
reform criminals through psychological conditioning. A very delicate balance
had to be achieved in Godfrey's performance between his somewhat comical image
and the important ideas he is called upon to express.”
I saw no delicate
balance, and nor did anyone else. Going over contemporary reviews, I saw not
one, not even the film’s many champions, that singled out the Chaplain
character as being even remotely like what Kubrick claimed he was.
77. Critical response
Oddly, the critics mostly seemed to havelove
it. From the “Newsweek” review,
“At its most profound level, ‘A Clockwork Orange’
is an odyssey of the human personality, a statement of what it is to be truly
human.”
Vincent Canby
in the ‘New York Times’ praised McDowell and the film’s mannerisms especially:
“McDowell is splendid as
tomorrow's child, but it is always Mr. Kubrick's picture, which is even
technically more interesting than ‘2001.’ Among other devices, Mr.
Kubrick constantly uses what I assume to be a wide-angle lens to distort space
relationships within scenes, so that the disconnection between lives, and
between people and environment, becomes an actual, literal fact.”
John E. Fitzgerald, writing in (of all
places) "The Catholic News”:
“The film seems
to say that to take away a man's choice is not to redeem him but merely to
restrain him. Otherwise we have a society of oranges, organic but working like
clock-work. Such brainwashing organic and psychological, is a weapon, that to
totalitarians in state, church or society might wish for an easier good even at
the cost of individual rights and dignity. Redemption is a complicated thing
and change must be motivated from within rather than imposed from without if
moral values are to be upheld. But Kubrick is an artist rather than a moralist
and he leaves it to us to figure what's wrong and why, what should be done and
how it should be accomplished.”
There
were even scientific professionals endorsing the film. Psychiatrist Aaron
Stern, the former head of the USA’s Motion Picture Association ratings board, believed
that Alex represents man in his natural state, the unconscious mind. Alex
becomes "civilised" after receiving his Ludovico "cure" and
the sickness it caused him was a "neurosis imposed by society."
The film received
an “X” rating in England, but back then that meant something a little different
than what it would only a few years later. The “X” was applied by John
Trevelyan, Chairman of The British Board of Film Classification (BBFC), but he also
said that the film was "an important social document of outstanding
brilliance and quality," just not appropriate for children.
Before too long, Kubrick would be attacked because of
the film (that’s the focus of the section on Censorship) but before then, he
received extraordinary accolades, which he, himself, was more than happy to
list when challenged, “‘A
Clockwork Orange’ has
received world-wide acclaim as an important work of art. It was chosen by the
New York Film Critics as the Best Film of the year, and I received the Best
Director award. It won the Italian David Donatello award. The Belgian film
critics gave it their award. It won the German Spotlight award. It received
four USA Oscar nominations and seven British Academy Award nominations. It won
the Hugo award for the Best Science-Fiction movie.
“It
was highly praised by Fellini, Bunuel and Kurosawa. It has also received
favourable comment from educational, scientific, political, religious and even
law-enforcement groups. I could go on.”
Why did it get such praise?
This is hard to fathom except in historical context – the same year saw the
more explicit (but also more heavily censored) “The Devils” from Ken Russell,
and “Straw Dogs” from Sam Peckinpah,
which was equally explicit, and also a much better film. Only four years later, Pier Paolo Pasolini’s last film was released, “Salò, or the 120 Days of
Sodom” (1975) which was far more explicitly Sadistic and Pornographic, almost as
contemptuous of the human part of human beings, and far more poorly plotted,
but also garnered substantial praise.
It’s also important to
remember, none of these were straightforwardly titillating sex-romps like the more
normal Porno films “Deep Throat” or “Behind the Green Door” (both released in 1972).
Instead, they were screaming at the top of their lungs “I am ART!” Weirdly,
none of these Art Films made their explicit sexual content look especially
pleasurable.
Even given that, the praise
is still a bit hard to fathom given that Kubrick’s immediately-prior film,
“2001: A Space Odyssey” (1968), a bold exploration of human Aspiration and Transcendence,
devoid of either Sex or Violence, was savaged by most critics early on. Of
course, “2001 …” quickly proved to be one of the greatest financial and
artistic triumphs in the history of cinema, so maybe the Critics embarrassed by
getting “2001 …” so wrong somehow felt compelled to rubber-stamp anything the
enfant terrible Kubrick did after that.
There’s a bond between these
two films, as they represent Kubrick’s most explicit explorations of his
fascination with Nietzsche. “2001 …” explored Nietzsche’s ideas of Transcendence
(spelled out in the book, “Thus Spoke Zarathustra: A Book for All and None”
(1885)), while “A Clockwork …” explored Nietzsche’s contempt for the whole of Society
and what he viewed as the “Slave Moralities” of the Judeo-Christian world
(spelled out in the book “Beyond Good and Evil” (1886)). In the former film, Nietzsche’s more
unpleasant notions are tempered by Kubrick’s collaboration with the Humanist SF
Autor Arthur C. Clarke, who wasn’t a Christian but whose work was often
influenced by Christian metaphysics. Here, there was no script-collaboration
with Author Burgess, and ultimately, the film proved smugly contemptuous of
Burgess’ struggling Christian faith.
I’ve been
recently watching reruns of “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” (TV show, first aired
in 1968) and one of the recurrent skits is a fashionable cocktail party where
everyone pretends to be intellectual, but repeatedly prove themselves to be nothing
but dumb drunks. Given that this film, attacking Skinner, came out the same
year as Skinner’s most famous book (a summation of his already
pretty-well-known ideas), made me think of the Real-World cocktail parties of
the day (I never attended any, I only was five years old). The film’s attack on
Skinner was its best perseveration of the ideas of the novel, so I think the
cocktail-party circuit (what Author Tom Wolfe had already named the “Radical
Chic” in 1970) may have been driving some of the film’s irrational praise among
the pseudo- Intelligentsia of
the “Smart Set.” All would’ve been aware of the novel, most would’ve read it,
everyone would’ve seen the movie, and if they hadn’t gotten around to reading
“Beyond Freedom and Dignity” yet, they would’ve at least read articles based on
it.
Interestingly,
one of the critics not sucked in was Roger Ebert, who, only a couple years
earlier, had been an early champion of the Kubrick film most others initially hated,
“2001 …”:
“‘A Clockwork Orange’ is an ideological mess, a paranoid right-wing
fantasy masquerading as an Orwellian warning. It pretends to oppose the police
state and forced mind control, but all it really does is celebrate the
nastiness of its hero, Alex…
“Now Alex isn't the kind
of sat-upon, working-class anti-hero we got in the angry British movies of the
early 1960s. No effort is made to explain his inner workings or take apart his
society. Indeed, there's not much to take apart; both Alex and his society are
smart-nose pop-art abstractions ... If we fall for the Kubrick line and say
Alex is violent because ‘society offers him no alternative,’ weep, sob, we're
just making excuses…”
Perceptively, Ebert attacked the exact same cinematic mannerisms
that Canby praised:
“Kubrick's most obvious photographic device this time is the
wide-angle lens. Used on objects that are fairly close to the camera, this lens
tends to distort the sides of the image. The objects in the center of the
screen look normal, but those on the edges tend to slant upward and outward,
becoming bizarrely elongated. Kubrick uses the wide-angle lens almost all the
time when he is showing events from Alex's point of view; this encourages us to
see the world as Alex does, as a crazy-house of weird people out to get him.
“When Kubrick shows us
Alex … he either places him in the center of a wide-angle shot (so Alex alone
has normal human dimensions,) or uses a standard lens that does not distort. So,
a visual impression is built up during the movie that Alex, and only Alex, is
normal”
Other
notable devises are in the lighting and sound. Though essentially a Crime film,
there are few scenes with dark shadows. Kubrick came out of Film Noir, but
mostly rejected those mannerisms here, featuring many scenes that were
deliberately lit just a little-bit too harshly, and with that, most of the
dialogue is just a little bit too loud. Kubrick, from the USA but living in
England, especially defied the mannerisms of English cinema in this, but to say
the film is more USA-like than English misses the point, as he went far beyond
what even most USA film-makers would in terms of harsh lighting and exaggerated
audio. Also, as was his habit, he only personally operated the camera for
hand-held shots, but this movie has more hand-held shots than any other Kubrick
I can think of. So, in this film, with a script he wrote more alone than usual,
he was also largely his own Cinematographer. My main objections to this film
are its treatment of content and characterization, but I got to admit,
Kubrick’s bold mannerisms also annoyed my eyes and ears.
Ebert again, “In a world
where society is criminal, of course, a good man must live outside the law. But
that isn't what Kubrick is saying, he actually seems to be implying something
simpler and more frightening: that in a world where society is criminal, the
citizen might as well be a criminal, too.”
88. The
novel and film’s relationship with Youth Culture
Even
before the novel was written the Youth were running wild in the streets. Demographics
played a role, there was a post-WWII baby-boom, and by then the young seemed to
out-number the old -- mathematically, they didn’t, but in cultural influence,
they certainly did. The excitement that the novel created reflected this, as Burgess
observed, "Rock-groups called ‘Clockwork Orange’ began to
spring up." In 1965 the Rock-group the Rolling Stones explored making a Musical
film of the book. That never materialized, but the same year, Andy Warhol made
the first film adaption, “Vinyl,” which received almost no distribution and was
unwatchabley incompetent in its execution; it’s mostly notable because it
didn’t even try to retain the novel’s language, perhaps because Warhol’s
non-actors couldn’t handle it.
Burgess’
novel, according to Theodore Dalrymple, “intuited with almost prophetic acuity
both the nature and characteristics of youth culture when left to its own
devices, and the kind of society that might result when that culture became
predominant. For example, adults grow afraid of the young and defer to them,
something that has certainly come to pass in Britain, where adults now
routinely look away as youngsters commit antisocial acts in public, for fear of
being knifed if they do otherwise, and mothers anxiously and deferentially ask
their petulant five-year-old children what they would like to eat, in the hope
of averting tantrums.”
This
is directly addressed in the novel, wherein Alex’s father is meek before his
15-year-old son, unable to even try and stop Alex’s late-night romps. When Alex
offers his father some (stolen) money to go to a pub, his father says: “Thanks,
son … But we don’t go out much now. We daren’t go out much, the streets being
what they are. Young hooligans and so on. Still, thanks.”
The Youths who were fans of the novel
and/or film back-in-the-day had interesting things to say about its impact on
them years later.
Tony Parsons: "‘A Clockwork
Orange’ was like seeing your little life blown up and put on the big
screen. It took all the consolations of being a teenager in the early 70s ...
and made them mythical, monumental, glorious … [W]e saw the film and then we
read the book and then we saw the film again. And even the lads who never read
books - the thickos, the hard-core thugs, the dims made flesh, blood and bone -
all read Burgess' black masterpiece…
"It was a violent film for violent
days ... I saw truncheons coming down on number two crops, away fans invading
the home fans' end and trying to take it, bodies tumbling down terraces, feet
and fists flying as one of those sickening gaps appeared in the crowd to give
violence some room ... the football grounds of England in the early 70s played
host to weekly riots. So, the highly ritualised violence in 'A Clockwork
Orange' did not shock us. We could get all that at home…
“‘A Clockwork Orange’ was
about our Britain. Not the country of someone else's mythology -- The Blitz
spirit of World War II, the saucy charm of the swinging 60s -- but the way we
were. Fishfingers and football pools and furniture that was a fire hazard.
Parents that were losing their grip and politicians that couldn't get you to
turn up. Authority was crumbling on every side and teenage rebellion was turning
nasty.”
During his defense of the film, Parson admitted
that the idea that “A Clockwork…” was a morality tale was lost on the Youth.
“[W]e brooded in Ted Heath's Britain [Conservative Prime Minister of England,
1970 - 1975], we didn't feel we had any choices. A morality tale? Perhaps, but
'A Clockwork Orange’ … was a subversive tribute to the glory of
youth."
Mic Martin was asked about the film
inspiring violence among his cadre and he answered, "No, definitely not.
Maybe it was a validation of our lifestyles, but we were not about to rape or
kill anyone. We had seen our fair share of violence both on the giving and
receiving end, but it wasn't about beating people up, it was about fighting
other groups, allegiance to your football team or protecting your friends,
whether or not ‘A Clockwork Orange’ had been made, this would
have gone on regardless. The film was just a stylised version of the lives we
were leading."
Football
thugs were, and still are, an issue in England, but there were none in “A
Clockwork …” The sport the film referenced was, ironically, Cricket, and only in
Canonero’s iconic costumes.
Those were inspired by Actor McDowell’s choice of wearing a Cricket uniform to
one of his rehearsals.
Theodore Dalrymple wrote, “When, as a medical student, I
emerged from the cinema having watched Stanley Kubrick’s controversial film
of ‘A Clockwork Orange,’ I was astonished
and horrified to see a group of young men outside dressed up as droogs, the
story’s adolescent thugs who delighted in what they called ‘ultra-violence’ … of
course it is one thing to imitate a form of dress and quite another to imitate
behavior. Still, even a merely sartorial identification with psychopathic
violence shocked me, for it implied an imaginative sympathy with such violence”
This was in the context of Violent Crime in England skyrocketing,
which was true even before the book was published, and worsened afterwards, so
“astonished and horrified” was not an uncalled-for reaction.
99. The Censorship Debate
Despite
the Critical Acclaim, the Censorship Debate that followed was hot-and-heavy,
and way more intense in England than the USA.
I should make it clear, hating a film, and wanting it Censored,
are two different things. “Care Bears Movie II: A New
Generation” (1986) is a contemptable, and deeply cynical, sorry excuse for cinema
intended only subversively market a toy-line, but I would not recommend Censoring
it unless you could show me scientific proof that its syrupy sentimentally
actually induced diabetic shock on unsuspecting viewers.
My view is that censorship,
a form of force, should be evaluated a bit like killing people. Killing is a
sin, but not so if done in defense of yourself or another; if you start with
the idea that it’s a sin, that should remind you that that killing must be
applied with maximum restraint. Censorship is similarly (but not equally)
sinful, and should be viewed similarly when considering applying it. I support Censoring
Terrorist Threats, Child Pornography and explicit lies that encourage violence
and/or protect the violent, like Holocaust Denialism. (Note: Though many
Liberal Democracies have State-mandated Censorship of Holocaust Denialism, England
and the USA do not. We rely on Social Pressure and Editorial Integrity to crush
those lies). Unlike killing, the sin of Censorship allows some room for
contemplation before pulling the trigger, but despite the extra-room to think, we
seem happier to Censor each other than kill each other, maybe because we
believe that if we Censor well, we’d kill each other less.
Both
the USA and England had a long history of cinema Censorship, but England seemed
fonder of it than the USA. England was once the most important foreign market
for USA films, so England’s rules often dictated USA film-making. The USA’s Universal
Pictures essentially owned the Horror market starting in 1923 with “The
Hunchback of Norte Dame” and held on to that title with the remarkable consistency
of the quality of its films up to “The Wolfman” in 1941. The quality of Universal’s
Horror movies declined quickly after that, and there are many reasons why, but
an important contributor was increasing English Censorship, and Universal’s response
was to make the films increasingly infantile, and therefore less potentially
offensive.
England, or at least the
British Isles, gave us the three most foundational novels of the Horror genre, “Frankenstein;
or, The Modern Prometheus” (1818), “Strange
Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde” (1886) and “Dracula” (1887), yet
it essentially Banned all Horror cinema for almost a decade. The BBFC were
revised in 1951 to deal with movies that were not "merely sordid films
dealing with unpleasant subjects, but films which while, not being suitable for
children, are good adult entertainment films which appeal to an intelligent
public," or, the original “X” rating.
The
response by the newly liberated film-makers was immediate. “The Quartermass
Xperiment” (1955), whose title mocked its “X” rating, was one of the finest
SF/Horror films of the 1950s and saved its studio, Hammer Film Productions,
from bankruptcy. This increased the international market for Horror dramatically
and made the stogy old English, specifically Hammer, the World Leaders in most
Horror up to about 1968.
More
things, outside of cinema, soon followed, and maybe the non-film stuff was more
important to the Censorship Debate than what was actually unfolding in the cinema.
The
novel was published in the context of a quickly transforming England, while the
film was released into an England already transformed. In 1961, the
contraceptive pill was legalized for married women only, but those rights
were expanded in 1967. That same year saw the "Sexual Offences Act" which
finally stripped Homosexual behavior of the Criminal stain, the "Abortion
Act," legalized a woman’s right to choose with only minimal restrictions,
and the “Divorce Reform Act," brought England’s restrictive Divorce Laws
in-line with most of the more Liberal USA (a little late for Anne Boleyn though, executed on trumped-up charges in 1536
by Henry VIII because she only bore him a girl-child, so poor, sweet, Henry had
few other options than kill her). Finally, in 1969, Home Secretary James Callaghan made the
abolition of the Death Penalty permanent. To all this one must add
non-legislative actions, like the Counter-Culture, the Drug-Culture, the Sexual
Revolution, a nastier attitude in Rock Music, mini-skits, and most horrifying
of them all, polyester leisure suits.
Most of this
is not shocking now (well, except for the polyester), but for many who’d passed
their 35th birthday at the time, it must have been as dizzying and nausea-inducing
as a dose of Apomorphine.
Despite my contempt for this film, I’m
easily swayed to opposing to Censoring it, not only because of my long-standing,
and thoughtfully considered, philosophical stands, but because of one name:
Mary Whitehouse.
For any life-long fan of SF,F&H,
that woman is like the Wicked Witch of the West (though technically, she was
somewhat east of my home in New York City). She not only targeted this film, and
cinema in general, but also TV, and had more success against pretty inoffensive
TV than obviously offensive cinema. She threw the production of my favorite TV
show, “Doctor Who” (first aired in 1963), into chaos by managing to get the
show repeatedly argued on the floor of Parliament over its alleged "teatime brutality for tots" (that
phrase specifically concerned the serial “Genesis
of the Daleks” (1975) which is
now remembered as one on the strongest anti-War statements in the history of TV
in any country).
Whitehouse,
predictably, hated this film, calling it, "sickening and disgusting ... I
had to come out after twenty minutes." Which, of course, meant she missed
the really nasty stuff.
In
another interview she stated, "Since it has been shown we have witnessed
muggings and the start of the dreadful gang bang syndrome. One gets tired of
the irrational, pretentious arguments film makers use to defend their
works."
She
certainly wasn’t alone, Member of Parliament (MP) Maurice Edelman saw “A
Clockwork …” as an incitement to violent crime, “the adventures of the
psychotic Alix[sic] rampaging to music, are likely to have a more sinister
effect on those who see for the first time see a fantasy realised on the
screen. -- a fantasy of exciting violence."
Though
Whitehouse was a Conservative, Edelman represented the more Liberal
Labor Party.
Reverend John Lambert, former chaplain to Pinewood Studios, which
Kubrick was associated with, was even more harsh, "I am utterly convinced
in my own mind -- and from talking to many young people -- that this celluloid
cesspool has done damage to more young people than just the boy who beat out a
meths drinkers brains with a brick … Old people tremble to go out of doors and
young girls are abused by bands of louts imitating your bizarre world.”
Rebels
within the BBFC issued this statement, "Up to the last war the Board
clearly considered itself the guardian of public morality, allowing no
departure from the acceptable code of conduct and behavior, the protector of
the and image of the Britain in the other countries and the protector of cinema
audiences from such dangerous themes as those involving controversial politics
… the success of the cinematograph had been obtained by the fact that it was
clean and healthy to which ladies and children could go in safety."
Perhaps the most absurd expression of the
hysertia the film evoked came from the Scientific (or pseudo-Scientific) field.
Dr. Malcolm Carruthers, Senior Lecture in Chemical Pathology at St. Mary's
Hospital Medical School, and Dr. Peter Taggart, Lecturer in Medicine at
Middlesex Hospital, ran an experiment wherein 34 people, many of whom were
Medical Professionals, who watched the film while hooked up to heart monitors.
The very next day (so before the experiment could be peer-reviewed) the
newspaper headline was "Viewers' Hearts Slowed by ‘A Clockwork
Orange’."
Ummm
… slowed heart-rates aren’t associated with impulsive violence, they are
associated with falling asleep.
This hysteria didn’t suddenly appear in
1971, the limits of permissiveness proved a major political issue the year
prior, with the surprise victory of Conservatives in June 1970, and the
election of the above-mentioned Heath. (Heath, dogged by rumors of being a
Homosexual for the whole of his career, became the subject of 42 complaints of
child sexual abuse ten years after his 2005 death. All of the allegations
concern the time before his Political elevation, but were unknown to the public
until 2015. A few of these allegations were proved to be hoaxes and none were
ever substantiated.)
Related to this, ‘70 saw the underground
magazine "International Times” indicted for containing advertisements that
were alleged "to induce readers to resort to the said advertisers for the
purpose of homosexual practices and thereby to debauch and corrupt public
morals [and] conspired to outrage public decency by inserting advertisements
containing lewd, disgusting and offensive matter." A series of lithographs
by Musician John Lennon were seized during a raid of a London Art Gallery.
BBFC’s Trevelyan, who attempted to defend this specific film, went after a
Warhol movie; not his adaptation of “A Clockwork …” but the Homosexual-friendly
"Flesh" (1962), and that raid involved 32 Policeman.
Once making it to
court, most, or all, of these cases fell apart, but they generated enough
publicity that on March 12th, 1970, Home Secretary James Callaghan, announced to the
House of Commons:
“There is a great deal of pornography about that is
causing a great deal of concern to many people in this country ... Broadly
speaking, I want the House to know that I shall support the police … in
investigating these matters. It may be that, On, occasions, they will make
mistakes of judgement, but I know perfectly well that the country as a whole is
extremely alarmed at what is going on in this field.”
It kept getting crazier. On April
21st, 1971, Victor
Noel-Paton, or Lord Ferrier,
gave a speech in which he assured the House of Lords that, “Some time
ago, a definite link between International Communism and the distribution to
adolescents of certain pornographic material was established by a specific case
in Scotland of which I can give the noble Earl details, if he wishes.”
One should
note that the word “Homosexuality” has come up a lot in the previous paragraphs.
There’s actually no Homosexuality in the book or film. The Moral Panic was really
about everything happening, all at the same time. Of course, Homosexuals got
blamed, but they always do.
According to Christian Bugge (and much of
what you read in this section comes from his writing), before 1969, the BBFC
had actually been more Liberal than ’69 to ’71, the period that most effected
“A Clockwork …” (though I personally suspect that the BBFC’s greater, earlier,
Liberalism might be because before ’69, the film-makers simply weren’t pushing
their luck so much). Even given that Administration using more enforcement
power, the outrage was increasing even faster, fueled in part because England’s
censorship laws were full of incoherencies and loop-holes. It was a broken
system, and everyone knew it had to be revised, so the only question was, who
got to revise it, and what was their underlying agenda.
The forementioned "The Festival of
Light," launched in 1971, and intended to warn the populace of the
"moral pollution" that was besieging their cinemas. It was a
Christian coalition, including Catholics, Mainstream Protestants, and
Evangelicals (notably, USA Evangelicals were prominent). Their literature
called on the English nation to recover, "the pure idealism of Christ,
the Light of world, who taught that real love always wants what is best for
others and defends the weak against exploitation by the corrupt."
Things got off to a bad start for them in
September ’71 when
their initial rally at the Westminster Central
Hall was invaded by the Gay Liberation Front, dressed in drag, releasing mice, sounding horns, and turning off all
the lights. Things seemed to improve after that, journalists noting that even
with the frequent hecklers, the crowds were large, mostly positive towards the
Festival’s goals, and the percentage of young people was far higher than
expected. Despite this, the Festival proved a short-lived movement, though it
did not entirely disappear, eventually morphing into what is now known as the Christian
Action Research and Education movement.
Author Burgess, himself, was notoriously
uncomfortable with the film, and more so as the decades unfolded. Early on, though,
he was a defender of the film, but maybe more because he defending it from Censorship,
as he novels could easily have faced the Whitehouse rage just as much as
Kubrick movie. He joined Actor McDowell on the publicity tour, while the
increasingly reclusive Kubrick chose to stay home (though he did give of
interviews). Burgess made the following statements over the course of several interviews:
"It was the dawn of the age of
candid photography that enabled Kubrick to exploit, to a serious end, those
elements of the story which were meant to shock morally rather than merely
titillate."
Then, explaining why the movie was more
of a "shocker" than the book, "to tolchock a chelloveck in the
kishkas does not sound so bad as booting an old man in the guts...But in a film
little can be implied; [in film] everything has … to be shown. Language ceases
to be an opaque protection against being appalled and takes a very secondary
place."
Finally, "The sheer power and
brilliance of Kubrick's ‘A Clockwork Orange’ undoubtedly
contributed to the outrage at the film. The images were so effective that many
viewers were led to believe that the film was more explicitly violent than it
was."
Moreover,
there were mounting reports of copy-cat crimes. Many of the claims were
dubious, just tabloid sensationalism with little basis in fact. Journalist
Edward Laxton wrote, “The terrifying violence of the film ‘A Clockwork
Orange’ fascinated a quiet boy from a Grammar School...And it turned
him into a brutal murderer … The boy viciously battered to death a harmless old
tramp as he acted out in real life a scene straight from the movie …” Only
problem was that it turned out that the 16-year-old Perp, James Palmer, had
never seen the film.
In another heavily sensationalized case,
the film was linked to the murder of a 79-year-old woman, killed while
"praying at her friend's grave side." But this Perp’s confession
seems to belie any connection, "Sometimes I think I am Jack the Ripper, a
vampire, or something like that."
The Criminal Court system got sucked into this. A
Psychiatrist testified before Oxford Crown Court, "It seems as if,
momentarily, the devil had been planted in the boys' subconscious ... planted
there was ... the violence of ‘A Clockwork Orange’." During a minor assault case regarding a
15-year-old boy beating a 16-year-old, the Judge, Desmond Bailey, stated the “A
Clockwork …” presented "an unassailable argument for a return to
censorship." And the Police themselves would state to the press that they
were seeking a "Clockwork Orange Gang" in the context of crimes not
unlike the murder that led to Evans’ and Allen’s execution in 1964 (meaning
before the film was even made).
Opportunistic Defense Attorneys also jumped
on the band-wagon. Mike Purdy, who had worked for the Metropolitan Police
Solicitors, observed, and complained, that:
“[W]e kept seeing people on assault charges who had
seen the film [claim to have] been impelled to go out and beat someone up. Most
of us who worked at the court thought this a load of rubbish but unfortunately
such cases got a lot of publicity and many judges would impose lesser sentences
in these cases. It got to the stage when we referred to these cases as
'Clockwork Orange defenses' and it came almost boring as one after another
tried using this excuse.”
There was some Official Censorship of the film, but
only on the local level, and often mandated by people who hadn’t even seen the
film before Banning it.
Burgess,
again defending against censorship, "No evidence has ever been adduced in
a court of law to prove beyond a doubt that a work of art can stimulate
anti-social behavior … The notorious murderer [John] Haig who killed and drank
their blood said he was inspired by the sacrament of the Eucharist - Does that
mean we should ban the Bible?"
Kubrick responded
even more forcibly, “No one is corrupted watching ‘A Clockwork Orange’ any
more than they are by watching ‘Richard III.’ … [T]the point I want to make is that the film
has been accepted as a work of art, and no work of art has ever done social
harm, though a great deal of social harm has been done by those who have sought
to protect society against works of art which they regarded as dangerous …
“The simplistic
notion that films and TV can transform an otherwise innocent and good person
into a criminal has strong overtones of the Salem witch trials. This notion is
further encouraged by the criminals and their lawyers who hope for mitigation
through this excuse. I am also surprised at the extremely illogical distinction
that is so often drawn between harmful violence and the
so-called harmless violence of, say, ‘Tom and Jerry’ cartoons
or James Bond movies, where often sadistic violence is presented as unadulterated
fun.
“I hasten to say,
I don't think that they contribute to violence either. Films and TV are also
convenient whipping boys for politicians because they allow them to look away
from the social and economic causes of crime, about which they are either
unwilling or unable to do anything.
“I think this
suggests the failure of culture to have any morally refining effect on society.
Hitler loved good music and many top Nazis were cultured and sophisticated men
but it didn't do them, or anyone else, much good.”
But these statements fell short in the context of 1972, with violent
crime still rising. It was also the worst year in Northern Island with orgies
of Assassination and Terrorism that seemed more like reciprocal Gang-Warfare
than acts serving a purposeful Ideology. Finally, a group of young men raped a
17-year-old girl in Britain as they sang “Singing in the Rain,” (lyrics by Arthur Freed and music by Nacio Herb Brown, from 1929) the same song
sung by Alex in the film’s notorious torture/rape/murder scene (interestingly,
an improvisational moment by Actor McDowell). That was copycat crime beyond
question.
Following there were Death Threats were directed at Kubrick’s
family. As Kubrick’s wife Christiane reported, “The final straw came when the
police said we were in real danger. There were many moralists and religious
groups and Mary Whitehouse, etcetera, who wanted us dead. I had my head in the
sand — I didn’t think it was that bad — but when the police came I did get scared.
We all did. So Stanley phoned Warner Bros [the studio behind the movie] and
said please, could they pull the film. Those who had written to us had won.”
So, it wasn’t the English government, but Kubrick himself, who
pulled the movie out of the theaters, but only England and Ireland. That
self-imposed ban would remain in place until after Kubrick’s death in 1999, but
Kubrick was also pulling a film that had already been in theaters for about
two-years, so only the most serious film buffs even noticed.
I should note: While I was writing this essay, I also watched the
movie, uncut, on Basic Cable. Oh, how times have changed.
In the decades that followed, “A
Clockwork’s …” reputation continued to rise, though it remained unavailable
legally in England or Ireland. Censorship rules kept going back and forth, like
an empty bag held aloft by the winds, but the general tendency was towards
toughly rules that proved increasingly difficult to enforce.
Censorship tightened after 1971
Stephen Murphy took over the
BBCC. He was replaced by James Ferman in 1975, who was initially condemned for
being too Liberal, until he was later accused of being too Conservative, most
famous for stopping long-approved films, like the fore-mentioned “Straw Dogs,”
from being released on VHS after the “Video Recordings Act 1984” (this became
known as the “Video Nasties Controversy.”
Which brings us to 1993, so six-years
before Kubrick’s ban was lifted, but it suddenly in the news again because of a
horrific crime and Burgess’ public statements.
James Bulger was a 3-year-old boy who was
kidnapped from a shopping mall while his mother was momentarily distracted. His
abductors were two 10-year-olds and complete strangers to their victim, Robert
Thompson and Jon Venables. They tortured, sexually abused, mutilated,
and then murdered him. It was not only a scandal in England, it was an
international news story. The duo would prove to be the youngest persons
convicted of murder in England in a century-or-more. Both boys were released,
with conditions, in 2002, at age 17. Since then, Venables has been repeatedly
re-incarcerated, mostly related to Child Pornography possession.
This crime was connected to the Horror film “Child’s Play 3”
(1991), even though it was uncertain if one of the boys had even seen the film
and the Police flatly denying the connection. This, of course, led to calls for
even greater tightening of the Censorship laws.
This had an impression on Burgess, who was nearing
90-years-old. Six months before his death and already
known to be uncomfortable with both his novel and the film version of it, made
his boldest condemnation of it in a public forum. He decried the "cult of
violence" in our media:
“It must be considered a kind of grace in my old age
to abandon a conviction that the arts were sacrosanct, and that included the
sub-arts, that they would never be accused of exerting either a moral or
immoral influence, that they were incorrupt, incorruptive, incorruptible. I
have quite recently changed my mind...I begin to accept that as a novelist, I
belong to the ranks of the menacing.”
The Censorship pendulum swung back in the favor of
more Liberalization in 1998, with “Straw Dogs” and film band from VHS, “The
Exorcist” (1971) finally being permitted in that format. Freman retired from
the BBCC the next year, the same year Kubrick died. This led to greater
Liberalization still, and “A Clockwork …” returned to England in 2000.
That same year, England’s Channel 4, premiered a
jaw-dropping, Horror-themed, extremely Dark, Skit-Comedy called “Jam.” The
media’s Liberalization was brand know, and “Jam” explicitness and deliberate
offensiveness, seem like a challenge for the BBCC to intervene.
And the BBCC did, and the show only ran six episodes,
but it doesn’t seem like many were watching it anyway.
10.
And now, just to make the Censorship controversy even more
complicated, let me introduce you to Andrew
Vachs
Andrew Vachs was raised in
New York City and someone I’ve met twice, but if I told you I know him, I’d be
lying. I do know a couple of people who knew him well and hold him in high
regard. Before explaining how he fits into all of this, let me describe him
first.
Average height, slim and obviously
wiry-strong, he would strut into rooms like one of the Rockers of old that
helped inspire Burgess’ novel. He’d be adorned in motorcycle boots, tight and apparently
tailored blue-jeans, a black-leather jacket, his hair was a tight pompadour,
and best of all, he had a pirate’s eye-patch (he’d lost an eye, and apparently
preferred the sinister patch over a more socially-acceptable glass prosthetic).
This is how he dressed at literary events wherein he sat next to British Baroness
and Crime Novelist P.D. James.
Vachs is also a
Human-Rights activist, working over-seas in Biafra, then as a Social Services
Case Worker in New York City, and finally becoming an Attorney dealing exclusively
with minors either abused by their guardians or the system. He’s also works on
the integration and employment of young, violent, offenders returning to our
larger society after their incarcerations.
But he’s best known as a Crime Novelist and says, probably not
insincerely, that he turned to fiction because his non-fiction books on the
same subjects had virtually no readership. But Vachs’ work, which is hugely
entertaining, does not have the autopsy-specific dissection of our systems’
failures that he seems to have intended -- they are Revenge Fantasies, especially
the Burke series (first novel published in 1985), concerning an ex-Con and unlicensed
Private Eye who deals out savage Vigilante Justice towards those who abuse
children and defenseless sex-workers with a Sadistic indulgence that none of us
should support, but all of us secretly do. Yes, Revenge is the Lowest of our
Moralities, but it still is a Morality.
I bring up Vachs because of the Censorship Debate. With their Sexual
and Violent explicitness, the Burke novels would encourage the wrath of
Whitehouse (though there was an ocean between them), but on the subject of
Censorship, he was often surprising.
Above I quoted Kubrick, ““No one is corrupted watching ‘A
Clockwork Orange’ any more than they are by watching ‘Richard
III.’”
Is that really true? If the
media can’t corrupt you, then why we the Nazis so devoted to propaganda? Near
the top of this essay, I brought up the Nazi film, “Hitler Youth …” which was
(dishonestly) based on the life and death of Real-World Herbert Norkus, a devoted Nazi who died at age 15
(same age as the fictional Alex) in a stupid street fight with Communists -- the
Nazis and Communists were often clashing in the streets in 1932, acting much
like “A Clockwork’s …” Droogs, or the Northern Irish IRA and Orangmen in 1972.
“Hitler
Youth …” is not, by any stretch of the imagination, the most contemptable of
Nazi propaganda films, that dubious honor falls on the (dishonest) documentary
“The Eternal Jew” (1940) which was shown to encourage the staff at Nazi Death
Camps.
Kubrick very
effectively propagandized against B.F. Skinner in this film, and it may have had
an impact. Given that, I have to ask, what else did Kubrick propagandized for?
Back
to Vachs, because he, an obvious target of Censorship, spoke about Censorship in an interview decades ago. I apologize, I’ve long lost the
interview, so you are stuck with my paraphrase:
“They say that art can
elevate us, but then they say art can’t corrupt us. I don’t think you can’t
have it both ways.”
Trailer:
A Clockwork
Orange (1975) Official Trailer - Stanley Kubrick Movie - YouTube
Great analysis, Bob. I admit that I was captivated by A Clockwork Orange when it came out. It was just so tight and visually striking. And Malcolm McDowell is a charismatic amoral narcissist, way better than our Previous President. Bye the way, it's Andrew Vaachs. Two "A"s.
ReplyDeleteThat's probably right, but not how the internet spells it.
DeleteAt what point does a short essay/blog post become the first few chapters of a book? Halfway through Army Boots I went from impressed and loving this piece and already having learned a ton of stuff I never knew....to sudden brain fatigue.
ReplyDeleteI thought I had a lot to cover, that's why I broke it down into chapters. The other essays will be shorter, but the other films had less philosophy behind them, and less historical importance.
DeleteAlso, eventually, these essay will be a book. But that's a real long-term project.
Delete