America the Grotesque

Paper by Veronica Lee Rice. Viewed on DVD.

Stanley Kubrick’s pessimistic view of mankind and society resonates in many of his films, especially in his later films such as A Clockwork Orange (1971) and The Shining (1980). Kubrick is suspicious of the innate goodness of mankind. His worldview is equally critical of America, its society, and its ideals. Characters such as A Clockwork Orange’s Alex and The Shining’s Jack show a hyperbolized vision of how wicked man can be. However, both characters are strongly influenced by their surroundings. In Craig McGregor’s New York Times article, he cites “Kubrick’s vision of society is just as bleak [as his vision of mankind]: it can make man even worse than he naturally is. ‘The idea that social restraints are all bad is based on a utopian and unrealistic vision of man,’ [Kubrick] says.” McGregor’s assertion broaches the idea that man is already naturally bad. Within the right (or wrong) conditions, man’s nature can shift for the worse—creating a society in which no person is safe, neither from himself nor from the societal ideals meant to protect him. As film is a reflection of mass society, it becomes obvious that Kubrick’s films mirror reality: “[I]t is precisely in times of trouble that a good many people look to art for images of their own despair, for flattering reflections of their terror and their interior violence (Burgess). While a general population may agree that their modern world is growing increasingly more dangerous, Kubrick maintains a personal philosophy in each film. Through films such as A Clockwork Orange and The Shining, Stanley Kubrick presents his pessimistic worldview of America and satirizes both man and society with an urgency that still resonates in today’s modern world.

Even though A Clockwork Orange is celebrating its 40^th anniversary, it remains as relevant to today’s American society as it was at the time of its release. Although the film is set in a futuristic Britain, its story and characters are universal. Alex is a bad man. He derives pleasure and excitement from the ultra-violent: rape, physical abuse, and theft. When Alex and his droogs find themselves at the country house, their violent exploits reach a peak. The scene is brutally inhumane: the boys, in phallic masks, torturously beat an old man almost to death and rape his wife before his eyes.  All the while, the act becomes a theatrical production (alluding to high society) with Alex performing “Singin’ in the Rain” as they abuse the couple. Their monstrous acts, while exaggerated, mirror acts of violence that still occur in today’s world. The “grotesque” commonly refers to visual aesthetics but as Naremore points out, “[b]y this account there is no such thing as grotesque music, although when Alex in A Clockwork Orange accompanies an evening of rape and ‘ultraviolence’ with his rendition of ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ one could argue that the conjunction is grotesque.” The dissonance of stark, contrasting sensory imagery is meant to cause the audience to feel uncomfortable. Kubrick wants to disassociate high society with any sense of humanity. Throughout the film, “most of the ultra-violent scenes, which include rape, gang-rape, murder, violence and sexually violent fantasies, are performed to the sound of classical music” (Hanoch-Roe). Kubrick questions the high society typically associated with classical music by setting grotesque imagery to music characteristically linked to order, control, and morality. Hanoch-Roe continues to point out “Culture and aesthetics are not, to Kubrick, a representation of man’s supremacy, delicacy and sophistication, which distinguish him from barbarity and animalism, but rather simply one of the two faces of the human being concealed in the basic character of man, who is allowed a choice.” Alex chooses to evil over good. When that choice is taken away from him through “treatment,” the other characters still maintain their ability to choose to be good, bad, or not choose at all.

Because the other characters in Clockwork are still products of the society in which they live, it is no surprise that Alex’s droogs become the law. Alex and his droogs are the unofficial law, until Alex is sent away to prison, finally having to pay for his wrongdoings. However, his punishment does not teach him to reform, as the law would hope. Instead, he is allowed to walk free after being subjected to experimental, anguish-inflicting “treatment.” Upon his release, Alex finds himself at the mercy of his former companions—they are now cops who rescue him from the first old man the gang beat. The rescue is short-lived, as two of the droogs-turned-cops (“A job for two who are now of job age. The police.”) take him to a secluded area . Alex exclaims that he has already been punished for what he did in the past, but his friends take the chance to exact their own revenge. From an outside perspective, Alex has not been properly chastised. They torture Alex, forcing his head into a metal trough full of water and banging the it with a police stick while Alex is underwater. “The equation is clear and neat: the brutality of the fist differs little from the brutality of ‘law and order’” (Burgess). All of the violence Alex inflicted upon others comes back around to him during the second half of the film. Although he can no longer inflict violence, violence can still be afflicted upon him. It suggests that there will always be violence, in one form or another, in society. Burgess notes that the “implication is that human experience is definable in terms of violence-that the world consists of brutes and their brutalized victims.” Alex went from being the victimizer to the victim; however, it is not entirely by choice. It is the government, the leading political party, which takes away Alex’s free will. At this point, he can no longer be a true product of his society, only a product of societal exploitation. He is mistreated by every aspect of his society to fulfill a need—for revenge from the two old men, for political power from the government, and for kicks from his old friends, looking to cause some ‘legal’ mischief. However, “the proposition that what is done to Alex is ‘worse’ than what he does is nonsense in any ordinary human terms” (Burgess). Just because Alex is ‘reformed’ does not excuse his past violent actions; this is not to say that he should be beaten or abused, but society should find an appropriate means to punish his actions. Once more, the violent actions taken upon a person are a maladaptive product of the dystopian world in which the characters live.

While A Clockwork Orange focuses on present societal issues, The Shining delves more into America’s past. It reminds the audience that the past influences the present, and warns against the cliché of the past repeating itself if proper precaution is not taken. It is important to note the different worlds Kubrick presents: “In A Clockwork Orange, he gave us one totally violent society; in The Shining, he gives us still another” (Leibowitz). The Shining is much more supernatural, set in an empty, isolated (perhaps haunted) hotel with a mysterious, murderous history. Jack is given some of the history of the hotel—from the murder of a prior caretaker’s wife and twin daughters to the illustrious past of lodging movie stars, presidents, and royalty. In a way, the Overlook symbolizes the American Dream: “At one very important level it is a symbol of America, haunted by a murderous past that made it what it is: a showy display of affluence and excess, built at the expense of innocent victims” (Leibowitz).  Native American imagery controls the mise-en-scene of the film: from the hotel being built on Native American burial grounds (and the attacks as the hotel was being built) to the carpet designs to Wendy’s dress, Kubrick comments on American society’s murderous past, which has in many ways been swept under the proverbial rug.

The murders do not stop in the past, however. Murder is a staple of American history, and continues to happen, even today. As Jack grows increasingly frustrated with his inability to write, he channels that negative energy toward his wife, who Jack would rather be the problem than himself. In a case of history repeating itself, Jack (“You’ve always been the caretaker.”) has a nightmare in which, he describes to Wendy, “I dreamed that I, that I killed you and Danny. But I didn’t just kill ya. I cut you up in little pieces. Oh my God. I must be losing my mind.” Shortly thereafter, Danny walks, zombielike, into the room with red strangulation marks around his neck. As Wendy comforts her son, Jack stares at them, as if recalling his dream and acting it out in his head again.  Accusing Jack of the act, Wendy and Danny flee the scene, leaving Jack to dwell on his thoughts, with his hatred of his wife developing evermore steady. What some critics, Leibowitz included, fails to realize is that Wendy is right—Jack did hurt Danny. Jack is choosing to hurt his own son (and it plotting to murder both his son and wife). While Leibowitz claims “the ball which rolls onto the rug where Danny is playing appears to be merely a device to lead him to his attacker,” he does not explain how it might have appeared; he dismisses it saying, “whether it was Jack or the woman in 237 who rolled the ball, and who it was that actually attacked Danny, are not ultimately significant issues for the film.” Danny’s attacker is significant though, especially to understanding Jack as a product of his society. Jack can shine too. He rolls the ball (that he bounces off of the walls for so much of the film) to his son, luring him into room 237. Jack is not taking orders from Grady or anyone else (all of whom are in his head, not apparitions); he is telling himself what to do.  His innate evil reincarnates, allowing him the opportunity to relive his gruesome act over and over through the years. The idea that Danny is injured while Jack is having his dream in indicative that he is somehow the cause of the marks.  It is also important to note that Jack’s madness begins once he starts feeling like his manhood is being stripped from him—once he realized he cannot get over his writer’s block, he loses his manliness, and therefore dismisses his family values. The justification for killing his family comes out of the idea that to continue to be an authoritative male figure, he must “deal with this matter in the harshest possible way” and “correct” them.

It is crucial for contemporary filmmakers to continue to mirror and critique modern society and mankind’s current state of being. Whether the policies or quality of life are good or bad, it is filmmakers’ responsibility to share their (and the major populace’s) perspective on the current situation to spark change and for future generations to study past civilizations. Both A Clockwork Orange and The Shining view American society with less-than-kind eyes. Furthermore, both films critique the idea of man’s innate goodness, which becomes more questionable each day.  Without artistic insight, the world may be doomed to blindly follow a path that will not be beneficial for future generations. From A Clockwork Orange, one learns that man must choose for himself to be good, and society’s choices are not always the best choices. From The Shining, one learns again that man must choose to be good, and that it takes a careful consideration of the past not to repeat the same mistakes in the present and future.

Works Cited

Burgess, Jackson. “Review: [untitled].” Film Quarterly 25.3 Spring 1976. 33-36. JSTOR. Web. 6 Jul 2011. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/1211519>.

Hanoch-Roe, Galia. “Beethoven’s “Ninth”: An ‘Ode to Choice’ as Presented in Stanley Kubrick’s “A Clockwork Orange”.” nternational Review of the Aesthetics and Sociology of Music 33.2 Dec 2002. 171-179. JSTOR. Web. 6 Jul 2011. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/4149775>.

Leibowitz, Flo and Lynn Jeffress. “Review: [untitled].” Film Quarterly 34.3 Spring 1981. 45-51. JSTOR. Web. 6 Jul 2011. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/1212038>.

McGregor, Craig. “Nice Boy From the Bronx?.” New York Times Jan 30, 1972. Web. 2 Jul 2011. <http://partners.nytimes.com/library/film/013072kubrick-profile.html>.
Naremore, James. “Stanley Kubrick and the Aesthetics of the Grotesque.” Film Quarterly 60.1 Fall 2006. 4-14. JSTOR. Web. 6 Jul 2011. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1525/fq.2006.60.1.4>.