As Hollywood got past the shock that Kubrick hadn’t made an intergalactic How The West Was Won, the rising pitch of youthful enthusiasm became apparent. Every college campus in America was alive with debate about the depths of this masterpiece; midnight showings were selling out to students returning for repeat viewings. The demand was such that, on its first run, 2001 played in theatres for 18 months and became one of the most successful films in MGM’s history. Eminent film scholars like Pauline Kael and Andrew Sarris had found themselves immersed in the white heat of a flashpoint in the development of cinema, and like so many, they came down hard on the wrong side, unable to process its full force at first sight. As 2001 continued to thrive, the establishment returned. Dozens of critics printed retractions.
It was an epochal moment for film, and for sci-fi’s place within it. Cinema had already captured the knockabout thrills of pulp SF novels with success but nothing had come close to the heady sweep of technology, philosophy, and ideas that categorised the genre’s finest literature. 2001 went beyond. Arthur C Clarke’s novel and Kubrick’s film were created in parallel, and released the same year – two geniuses in full embrace of their chosen fields, pooling their ideas to the benefit of both projects, a perfect storm of creativity.
Kubrick’s vision feels light years away from a literary adaptation. There are only 43 minutes of dialogue scenes in a nearly 3 hours of incident. It explores the dehumanising effect of technology, the evolution of man’s intellect, his place in the universe and greater destiny through sound, image, music and editing. This is a work of pure cinema, and its importance to science fiction cannot be underestimated. 2001 forever altered the public view of the genre – what it could be and what it could say. No other work of science-fiction cinema is so broadly admired. Nothing even comes close.
As much they excite us, and however much we love them, films like Star Wars, The Terminator, and, to an extent, The Matrix can make it seem like greatness is inextricably tied to accessibility. 2001 offers no such comfort. Kubrick’s film provides no simple answers, never meets the audience more than halfway, and uses the tools of filmmaking with such invention that it changed the very language of the process. Whether it takes two, three, or twenty viewings – and it might – the reward, when it arrives, transcends virtually everything else in cinema.
At the time of 2001’s release, Kubrick received a letter from a student. “My pupils are dilated, and my breathing sounds like your soundtrack. I don’t know if this poor brain will survive another work of the magnitude of 2001, but it will die happily (or perhaps go super nova) if given the opportunity.” It is sad to say, but another “work of that magnitude” has yet to arrive. More than 40 years later, 2001 stands alone.
To find out more about this exciting phase in SciFiNow’s forum feature, hit the link and check out the other movies that made our shortlist.
Don’t forget to log on to our forums to discuss the films on our shortlist, and to read any of the other articles in this series as they are written, click on the title below.
Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Blade Runner
Planet Of The Apes
Forbidden Planet
ET The Extra-Terrestrial
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
Alien
The Matrix
2001: A Space Odyssey
Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back
This article originally appeared in the print edition of SciFiNow issue 40 by Matthew Handrahan. To buy a copy of the magazine or subscribe, go to www.imagineshop.com, or call our subscriptions hotline on +44 (0) 844 844 0245.
