Plot summary (with spoilers): I'll begin at the beginning. Me, your humble narrator Alex Delarge, and my droogs were relaxing and 'aving a bit of the ol' milkplus with the rest of 'em when I decided it was time for some ultraviolence.
We beat a drunken old ded that was singing to himself and rolling around in his filth. I hate those old deds. Then we saw Billyboy and his droogs having a bit of fun playing the old in-out in-out with a pretty dama who was only struggling a little bit. So we attacked Billyboy and his droogs, beat 'em real good. That was just enough to get me charged up, so we had a bit more milkplus and drove outside of town to look for a home to have fun with. Sure enough, we found a home marked "Home" in the front, and I knocked on the door and went into it.
"Excuse me, ma'am, there's been an emergency! My friend is lying bleeding in the middle of the road!" That usually works, and it did this time, too. The dama let us in after her ded told her to. And then your humble narrator grabbed her quick, while my droogs Dim and George threw the old ded around the house for fun. And up and on the floor again, and up and back down on the floor again. Old Pete grabbed the dama and I had a bit of fun with the old in-out-in-out whilst singing a song.
I'm singing in the rain,
Just singing in the rain,
What a glorious feeling,
I'm happy again!
All the while singing, I kept beating the ded and cutting off the dama's dress whilst my droogs held them down. It was the best in-out-in-out I've had in awhile.
Then we went back to the hideout and my droog Dim got a bit mouthy, so I had to wallop him on with me baton. My droogs need discipline.
The next day, my Em tried to get me to go to skooliwol, but I told her like always that I was sick and she believed it like always. Later, the truant copper Deltoid showed up and told me I was missing too much skooliwool. He held me on the bed and grabbed my sharries again, the dirty perv. He's another one that needs some walloping, but he knows who I am and he'll report me if he finds out what your humble narrator is up to.
Then, later I saw some damas at the record store and we did in-out-in-out all afternoon whilst I played some of me favorite songs by Luddy Von. The 9th is me absolute favorite. After I finished with the damas, my droogs showed up and George and Dim tried to question my leadership. They told me the ultraviolence against Dim had to stop and that we needed to move on to bigger and better robberies. I pretended to take in what they had to say, and later when we went for a stroll, I walloped them both and sliced up Dim's hand with me knife. I told them I was in charge and no one else, and they had to eat it. They knew this was true and went along with it. But your humble narrator knows that sometimes you have to make the little ones happy, and so I asked George what his plan was for a bigger robbery. He suggested going after a rich dama who lives with a bunch of cats. We decided to go that night.
I gave the lady the old "my friend is bleeding in the middle of the road!", but she didn't believe me. Your humble narrator then decided to climb in a window while my droogs waited outside for me to unlock the door. The old bitch was pissed and she screamed at me to get out. I didn't know that she had already called the coppers. I had some fun with her, playing with a big statue she had of a cock and yarbles, She tried to go after me with a potted plant, so I had to defend meself with the cock and yarbles. I bashed her one good, then ran out. At the front door, Dim had a bottle of milkplus, and bashed me with it. I was blinded and the coppers showed up and scooped me up.
Oh brothers, your humble narrator is here to tell you it was bad. The old bitch died and they sentenced me to 14 years. They stripped me and searched me and made me call them all "sir". I did as I was told, and stayed mostly in the library, reading the bible and singing the hymns and making sure the Charlie who ran the church liked me. I had heard about the Ludovico Technique, which makes sure ultraviolent droogs like your humble narrator never commit violence again. Let them poke and prod me with their sticks, I could get out of jail in two weeks! The Charlie said I shouldn't do it, that it was against the will of Bog, and that morality was contingent upon free will, which was a whole bunch of shit. I wanted to get out and be free.
So they took me to the hospital, and put loads of drugs in me. Then they strapped me in a chair and clamped open me glazzes so I couldn't even blink, and then they showed me film after film of ultraviolence. I got sicker and sicker each time they played a film. They played music, too. It was always me favorite, Luddy Von's 9th. I complained to the doctors that the music was making me sick too, not just the ultraviolence, but they did not care.
After two weeks, they did a demonstration. The warden, the Charlie, and the doctors put on a little show. They had a man slap me and throw me on the ground, and I had to lick his shoe. I couldn't fight back because every time I did, the sickness would grow and grow. Then a naked dama came out and tried to play some in-out-in-out, but that got me sick too. Everyone was pleased except the Charlie. He said it was immoral, but the warden said he didn't care about that, and they let me go free,.
I went back home to me Em and Pa, but they had a renter in my room. He told me I was a bad son, so without thinking, I tried to pop him one, but got sick again right away. Me Em cried and cried, but Pa said I had to leave, so I did.
On the street, an old ded asked me for some change. I have him some, but then he recognized me. He was the ded I had beaten before. He and his ded friends starting spitting on me and beating me, and your humble narrator could do nothing to fight back. Finally, some coppers showed up and they rescued me. But when I looked up at their faces...it was Dim and George! They grabbed me and put me in their car and drove me out of town. They beat me silly and almost drowned me, and then left me for dead. I stumbled along the road, looking for a home, and I found a home marked "Home". I didn't know it was the home I had gone to before, I was in such a state, my brothers! I knocked on the door, and a large ded with big muscles scooped me up like a little boy. He carried me inside, where the ded from defore was sitting. He was in a wheelchair now. But I knew I'd be okay. Before my droogs and I were wearing masks, so he didn't know it was me what put him in that chair. But then he said he knew who I was! I got scared for a bit, until he said that he recognized me from the paper. I told him coppers had beaten me, and he said what the government had done to me was wrong. He told me to take a bath and his man would cook me some dinner. In the bathtub, I was so relaxed. I got so relaxed, I sang a bit. I got louder and louder, singing "Singing in the Rain" at the top of me lungs. I had forgotten that the old ded had heard me sing that song before. I didn't hear him outside, calling his friends.
I had dinner afterwards, then the ded and his servant sat next to me. The ded told me about how "someone" broke into his house two years ago and played in-out-in-out with his wife and broke him so bad and put him in a chair. His wife died soon after. I kept eating, even though he looked plenty mad. He gave me wine, which I drank up fast. His friends came and started interviewing me about me experiment, and I told them about how Luddy Van's 9th makes me sick. Then I passed out.
I woke up locked in a room upstairs. Luddy Van was playing on the speakers all throughout the room and I kept getting sicker and sicker. I couldn't escape the room. Finally, my brothers, your humble narrator was so sick and so scared I decided to rub meself out. I climbed over to the window, opened it, and jumped down three stories, hoping to splat.
But I didn't splat, I woke up in the hospital in a hundred casts. A hospital shrink did a test on me. She said they had been messing around with me brain, and wanted to make sure I was better. The test she gave me made me think of ultraviolence and how much fun it was. Then the government minister showed up and fed me and told me that the government was being criticized because of my experiment going so badly and that the Prime Minister didn't want to get thrown out in the next election. So, he offered me a job if I said I was all cured now. The press came in, and started taking our pictures, whilst they brought in some music for me. They played Luddy Von's 9th and it didn't get me sick at all. In fact, it made me think of having fun with some ultraviolence just as soon as I got out of here. I was cured, all right!
Review: Such an audacious and crazy movie made me think I needed to respond in kind, so that was that attempt. Anyways. This movie is great. Malcom McDowell is amazing, the writing is perfect, the direction is appropriately creepy. It's obviously set in some dytopian future, but usually when a movie does that, it still winds up looking quite dated a short time later. But A Clockwork Orange doesn't do that. There's nothing that sets this movie in the 70's, or in any other identifiable time. The fashion is totally random and off the wall, from the droogs crazy white outfits and bowler hats, to Alex's mom's purple wig and black leather skirt that are apparently her casual ware. There's great surreal touches all over, like the fact that the old man and wife wife live in a home that has "HOME" lit up in neon, or all the drawings of naked men in Alex's lobby. The people don't really act "normal", not as we'd expect them to, and that's another way the movie becomes timeless. (Even things like "Star Wars" and "Star Trek" come off very 60's/70's in their attitude). And obviously the made up slang, which will never become dated is a brilliant stroke as well. The surreal tone also helps gloss over some of the less realistic plot points, like Alex just happening to run into everybody's he'd wronged in the course of one afternoon.
The movie has a hard task. In the beginning, what Alex does to that couple is so horrific and is presented so horribly (with him singing a jaunty fun tune) that later when the movie asks us to feel sorry for him, they're asking a lot. But I think they succeed. Or at least if we don't feel sorry for him, we feel...something for him. Something like pity, if not actual pity. Maybe it's more like "these things shouldn't be done to a human, any human, no matter what he's done". Not sure how I feel about the ending, though. It's incredibly cynical, which normally I love, but it winds up making the whole film seem kind of pointless. What exactly is the message, here? I mean, the chaplain (Charlie, heh) spells it out pretty clearly, "if there is no free will, then there's no morality" and that's fine and all, but how do we help people like Alex? Is there any way at all? Is that the movie's message? Fuck it? Or perhaps the message is that the government has no business attempting to modify or "perfect" people's brains or behavior, because going down that road leads to places like Nazi Germany. All these things are great themes, and I guess I need to read more about the movie, and probably the book too.
Stars: Five out of five.
Next, "Tootsie" and then "Unforgiven". I've heard a lot of good things about "Unforgiven". Maybe it will finally be that elusive first Western I've ever liked.
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