Review of A Clockwork Orange (1971) by Maxwell B — 21 Apr 2015

Nearly three years ago, a high school freshman with an aversion to film sat down and watched A Clockwork Orange with a friend.

And what a mind-bending journey that was.

A Clockwork Orange is my favorite film for a myriad of reasons - it's not just limited to the immaculate editing or meticulous framing of the scenes (courtesy of the one and only Stanley Kubrick). To its benefit, A Clockwork Orange works on a technically sound level; the production design, music, cinematography, acting, and writing work in tandem to produce a truly perennial experience. That's one of the most beautiful things about film; the way all its constituents work together and create a transcendental experience.

Every single actor in this film does a fine job. You have the alluringly twisted Malcolm McDowell as one of cinema's most beloved and vilified characters, of course; but even then, you're forgetting some of the most idiosyncratic and bizarre characters to grace the big screen. Aubrey Morris as Mr. Deltoid is suitably creepy yet surprisingly funny; Michael Bates as the wide-eyed chief guard does comedic wonders for the film; and Patrick Magee delivers an unexpected turn as the traumatized writer Mr. Alexander.

One of the things that goes unmentioned a lot when this movie is talked about is how brilliant the script really is. We as an audience go from loathing Alex to wanting him to be "cured" and even feeling sorry for him. The emotional manipulation of this movie is fantastic. If you didn't think about it, chances are you wouldn't question why you were identifying with a complete sociopath. Because of the subtle writing in this film, it works on a variety of levels; as mere entertainment, as a parable concerning morality, and even as an experience. The characters in the film speak in "Nadsat" slang for the most part, a mostly-fictional language accredited to the novel's writer, Anthony Burgess. Upon first viewing, the language may be jarring and nearly incomprehensible, but the more you try to decipher what the characters are saying, the better the experiences gets (Alex substitutes "balls" for "yarbles" at one point; case closed). The plot, as is the case with most of Kubrick's films, seems simple at first but the yarn eventually unravels to reveal a whole different beast altogether.

Both production design and costume design in this film are excellent. It's a conglomeration of 60's psychedelia and retro-futurism that looks slightly dated by today's standards; but I don't think that detracts from the film so much as it does amplifies it. It's intoxicating. It's as if someone went down to a costume store, gathered as many random items they deemed necessary and threw them into the movie. The result is creatively stimulating and eye-pleasing.

And I can't leave the music unaddressed in this review. A Clockwork Orange hands down has the best use of music I've seen in almost any movie in my life - think the "Ride of the Valkyries" beach landing from Apocalypse Now multiplied by a hundred, and you essentially have the feeling of this movie. The music - mostly an amalgamation of Wendy Carlos's chilly synthesizers and off-putting classical music - creates these odd juxtapositions where you're watching a scene and violence is occurring, perhaps even rape, and the jovial strings of Rossini's "The Thieving Magpie" are playing in the background with seemingly no regard for the kind of consummate black comedy it is creating. These sort of juxtapositions - most notably the "Singin' in the Rain" one - seem to be evoking a different mood altogether, and detach you from what is transpiring on screen. One of the most brilliant moments in the film is when Alex is given "The Ludovico Technique" and is repulsed by the use of Beethoven's music in conjunction with such abhorrently violent images; a sort of parallel with how the audience is feeling. I could recommend this film to you based on the use of music alone. It's that good.

But it's not as if this is a whole set of differing vignettes, strung together by a loose narrative in an attempt to make a good film. Rather, the questions regarding humanity and free-will, two of the most distinct topics of the human condition, are what make this film come full circle. The moral of the story is there in A Clockwork Orange, it just isn't in plain sight. One of my favorite lines comes from the prison chaplain during Alex's imprisonment: "When a man cannot choose, he ceases to be a man".

And that, my fellow droogies, is the crux of A Clockwork Orange. Is it better to choose bad or be forced to be good? Are there human beings like Alex in our society, concealed in the crowd? Who knows. Lucky for us, however, Stanley Kubrick left us with an infinitely entertaining and mordantly funny film concerning the issue. Real horror-show.