2001: A Space Odyssey

2001 still strikes me as a great movie, though no watch compares to the first, terrified teenager as I was. I thought it was just a sequence of ideas without explanation; Kubrick supported this; but Clarke, at least via 2010, explains much. Now I understand my old favorite movie far better than when it was just thrilling images to me. I wish I could get the sensory and conceptual thrill in one go. I never will, for this movie, but I'm mature enough now to find that in future frontiers. As an early high-schooler I missed much.

Objectively since 1968, and subjectively since my first viewing, it holds up in many ways -- a huge achievement for a genre that dates itself so fast. The technical effects are impressive. The story and ideas are of course provocative. More than anything, though, the artistry is subtle. This is what I need out of more movies, especially sci-fi -- the touch of a true artist who is operating on sensibilities the average viewer can't analyze or predict. I mean that's art, yet it's so uncommon. I developed this idea for myself when I read Sylvia Plath in college. I could predict her angle, see her thought process in trying to sound stylish. If I can see the artist through the art -- I don't mean the soul but the effort of the artist to be artistic -- then it's not really artistic. Kubrick does what I haven't really seen before in sci-fi -- hides his effort in his art, hides his context in his art, creates nearly timeless art. Said art isn't the highest art I've seen in movies, but paired with an exciting premise, it's plenty for his objective: "the proverbial good science fiction movie."

2001 was a contender for my favorite movie for a bit in high school. By college Kaufman and PTA dominated that conversation; I was disenchanted by Kubrick's darkness, hedonism, and shallow characters. Kaufman and PTA characters cut so deep back then. I always admired 2001 but it drifted out of mind for at least a decade. Kubrick isn't a character guy; he stages horrible or comical situations (or both at once). There's a limit to how deep that can cut. He also emphasizes the terrible over the lovable, again limiting his effect. Who could call something rooted in fear their favorite compared to something rooted in love? Such is my status between 2001 and LotR. LotR is fearsome and lovable, and sad. Kubrick is generally fearsome. Synecdoche is primarily sad. Fear just isn't a key motivator for me. Some people love horror. Kubrick isn't precisely horror, but fear is one of his biggest strengths. Since early high school, melancholy was more my style. A maj7 or a min7 over a harmonic minor. This difference has diminished over the years -- as melancholy doesn't hit me like it used to, and I need more thrill out of life -- but 2001 wasn't timed quite right. I mean the first watch was perfect -- just what I needed at the time, when I was still edgy and philosophical (Blonde on Blonde), but it (with BoB) waned as I needed more love in life -- hence Synecdoche and sentimental Bob. I think that was the chronology? Now as I seek thrill again (I'm full of love) 2001 isn't new. The thrill was exhausted in high school. Where do I find thrill now? It's harder than it used to be.

I think that chronology was right. It sounds right: Kubrick and amphetamine Bob, then Kaufman / PTA / sentimental Bob, now... I don't know? Nothing has struck me nearly as those did in high school, other than LotR, which seems exceptional, for various reasons. Actually, Harry Potter was a bit of a revelation -- I don't ultra love it but it tapped something deep. Tarkovsky was nice but I'm not confident how much I enjoyed it. I've enjoyed other poppy music/movies/TV... but I'm not sure what really gets me anymore. My favorite movie list especially is so rusty.