#15. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

I think it's time we take a look into the future, Andy.
The future, Conan?
Yes. All the way to the year 2000. 
And 1.


Plot summary (with spoilers): Ten thousand years ago, our great-great-great-great100
grandparents rutted around in the dirt, got eaten by bigger beasts, fought over watering holes, only had basic cable. Then one day, a group of monkey-men saw a giant black monolith in the ground. They shrieked and hollered and waved their arms about in an ostentatious fashion. One brave monkey-man reached out and touched it. Some time later, he gnawed on the bone of a dead beast, and an idea came to him. He held the bone in his hand, and swung it at the other bones, lightly, uncertainly. He did it again, with more confidence. And again, and again, and again. The bone could be used as a weapon, and a tool. Triumph!  Do we have any good triumphant music? How about the one that goes "Da da da...da da da...Dun...Dun...DUN!!!!! Yeah, that one. 
The Dawn of Man began. 
From one tool to the next. Ten thousand years later, a space station orbits earth. Dr. Heywood Floyd arrives on a spaceship to dock at the station for a layover. The shots of ships and space are beautiful, but somewhat too lingering. Floyd gets off the ship and calls his daughter back on Earth, then chats in some super-weird and empty waiting room with a couple other astronauts who exchange pleasantries and inquire after one another's families. Floyd reveals he's going to an outpost on the moon called Clavius, and one of the other dudes asks him if the rumors of a viral outbreak on Clavius are true, but Floyd declines to comment further. He holds a private meeting where he and some other scientists discuss the need for a fake cover story regarding Clavius until they investigate what they found there. And what they found was a giant monolith buried 40 feet underground, that they're unable to dig up. Floyd and the others get in another ship and reach the moon, where they investigate the monolith. They're able to do nothing but touch it and scratch their heads ineffectually. They decide to get a picture with it, hilariously. Just then, a high-pitched tone emits from the monolith, freaking everyone out. They back away from it, trying futilely to cover their ears under their helmets. 
18 months later. Astronauts Dave and Frank are on a mission to Jupiter. There are three other scientists with them, who are in a state of deep cryogenic sleep, to be dethawed once the ship reaches Jupiter. We learn through newscasts that Dave and Frank and the others are own a mission to explore Jupiter, but they also have a little help. A computer called the H.A.L.-9000, or Hal for short. Hal is an infallible machine programmed to control the ship and monitor its progress. Hal is also programmed to mimic human behavior perfectly, and appears to have emotions like a human. So enroute, Hal expresses concerns about the "melodramatic" call to hibernate the other astronauts and wonders aloud to Dave if he's just worrying unnecessarily because he's "projecting (my) concerns" about this mission. Hal's kinda weird, you guys. Dave's pretty unconcerned with Hal's concerns, and blows him off. Hal starts bleeping a warning about a piece of equipment outside that's malfunctioning. Frank dons the suit and goes outside to get the malfunctioning widget, and brings it inside. They contact Earth, who tells them that their HAL-9000 reports nothing wrong with the widget. Dave asks their Hal for an explanation. How can two infallible machines contradict each other? Hal's response is as smug as it is meaningless. "Human error". Dave and Frank pretend to accept this, then proceed to the shuttle pod to have a private confab about Hal. They get all Mean Girls, talking about if Hal is malfunctioning, they need to take him offline, pronto. Unbeknownst to them, they're facing Hal, and through the window of the pod, Hal's unblinking red eye reads their lips. 
Frank goes back outside to replace the widget, while Dave pushes buttons on the control panel and tries to look busy. 
Closeup of Hal's evil eye.
Suddenly, Frank's flying through space, flailing about. Dave wants to know what happened, but Hal doesn't have enough information. Dave jumps in his shuttle pod and zooms out to Frank. The shuttle pod has "arms" that reach out and grab Frank. Meanwhile, Hal cuts the lifelines to the three hibernating astronauts and their vital signs go flat. Dave goes back to the ship.
"Open the shuttle bay doors, Hal."
No response.
"Open the doors, Hal. Hal, do you read me? Open the door."
Hal's all about the Pitner pauses, but finally answers.
Affirmative, Dave. I read you. 
Open the pod bay doors, Hal.
I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave.
And on it goes. Hal's deliciously creepy, explaining in a flat, soothing monotone that he can't allow Dave to jeopardize the mission. So he's not going to be opening any pod bay doors.
Dave drives the shuttle to the automatic side entrance. He opens the door carefully, then steels himself and opens the shuttle doors, blasting himself into the ship. With his last breath, he manages to seal the doors and pressurizes the room again. He dons a helmet and goes stomping into the ship.
Just what do you think you're doing, Dave? Look Dave, I can see you're really upset about this. I honestly think you ought to sit down calmly, take a stress pill, and think things over. I know I've made some very poor decisions recently, but I can give you my complete assurance that my work will be back to normal. I've still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in the mission. And I want to help you.
All this is said in an excellent, fucking beautiful uber-creepy flat monotone, as Dave begins the process of deactivating Hal, which apparently entails pulling random cassette tape cases out of a wall.
I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a... fraid. 
A beat. More cassette tape cases are pulled.
Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am a HAL 9000 computer. I became operational at the H.A.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois on the 12th of January 1992. My instructor was Mr. Langley, and he taught me to sing a song. If you'd like to hear it I can sing it for you. 
Dave's feeling vindictive I guess, so he orders Hal to sing.
Hal warbles out a few lines of that song "Daisy" and then falls silent. A taped message begins to play, telling Dave about the real reason for the message to Jupiter, the reason only Hal knew about. It's a mission to find the source of the sound that the monolith on the moon is emitting.
Dave continues on to Jupiter.
Then shit gets weird.
He reaches the point to where the sound is coming from, then suddenly, he's thrust into a 1960's psychedelic dream world. A kaleidoscope of crazy images and colors plays out before him, until finally, his shuttle (lands? appears?) inside what looks like a home. The room is huge and brightly lit, with lighting underneath the floor shining upwards, white walls, and furniture that looks like it's from the 1800's. Dave gets out of the pod and looks at himself in the mirror. He's about twenty years older. Then he sees in the distance an older man eating dinner. Ah, but that older man is him. Then old Dave drops a glass and turns and sees very old Dave in bed. Very old Dave stares ahead at a monolith at the foot of his bed. Suddenly very old Dave is creepy Fetus in a Bubble Dave. Fetus in a Bubble Dave is suddenly outside in space looking down on earth, with a weirdly satisfied smirk on his face.
I don't know.

Review: So I first saw this in 1998 or 1999, with no knowledge of what it was about, other than it had an evil computer in it named HAL. I watched it and thought it had a few very interesting moments, but was mostly just incredibly dull and off putting. I'm happy to say my view this time is a total reverse of that. Perhaps it's maturity, perhaps it's the fact that I was prepared intellectually and emotionally this time for the sadistically slow pacing, but I liked it very much. First off, the artistry is beautiful. From the beginning panoramic shots of pre-human Earth, all the way through to the crazy alien vistas in the end. "Beautiful" doesn't really cover it. More like breathtaking. And the HAL computer is an infamous and totally memorable villain, because of that creepy malevolent eye and that even creepier voice. He's the most human of all the characters, and his "death" scene is one of the most disturbing scenes in cinema.
Some of my objections still stand, though. It moves painfully slowly. I understand that the idea is to be hypnotically slow, and let the audience be dazzled by the effects and the artistry. Granted, the artistry is still cool, but the effects are simply passable and aren't going to inspire much awe in a modern audience. I remember last time I saw this my joke was to tell people that it was like trying to download a computer game and watching the computer say "9% loaded....13% loaded...22% loaded" etc. And while I don't think it was that excruciating anymore, it still could've picked up the pace a bit.
And it also reminded me a little of a Wes Anderson film, where the characters are all very cold and emotionless. I don't really care for movies like that. I like to be able to connect with my characters, and that wasn't possible, here. Even Dave is just a cypher. Having said that, I don't know that it would be possible to tell the story Kubrick wanted to tell and have interesting characters, but I still wouldn't have minded him trying.
But what does it mean? I don't really know. Aliens helped us evolve 10,000 years ago, and now they're helping us evolve again? Did Dave literally turn into a flying Fetus/Angel? Or did he just achieve some sort of spiritual enlightenment? What happens next, to the rest of humanity?
Also, why did Hal malfunction? He seemed to believe that Dave and Frank were jeopardizing the mission, but part of me wants to think that Hal was just threatened and jealous of the idea that humans were going to evolve again and he was going to be left behind. But that's assuming Hal knew about the significance of the monoliths, and there's no real reason why he should.
I should say that I'm generally not a huge fan of a lot of ambiguity in movies. I'm okay with it if I believe there really is an answer, and that answer is possible to solve, even if I can't immediately solve it. (See: the brilliant Mulholland Drive). But if I feel the director/writer is just putting weird shit out there and doesn't know why and expects you to figure it out--or not, it's like art and shit, man--then I'm not a fan. (See: Donnie Darko, Inland Empire). Here I think the puzzle is (mostly) solvable and I'm satisfied with it. Anyone see 2010? Is it any good?

Stars: Four out of five.

Next, chocolate syrup will clog your shower drain in "Psycho" and then some cult-indie thing no one's ever heard of called "Star Wars".