Singin' in the Rain

Rating: 10/10 (15 October 2006)

I saw this film recently. "Legendary", "cult classic", "extreme violence", "agonizingly crude scenes"; all these were but a few terms used in reference to it. I was quite uneasy before seeing it, worrying that I might not appreciate it enough. Or maybe I wouldn't "get it". I had heard that this film contained very important social messages which viewers were not allowed not to grasp. So with all this hype, I rented A Clockwork Orange and learned what classics are all about.
The first thing that people who approach classics warily must learn is that these films are deemed so because they are highly accessible and let you go filled with ideas you did not have going in. Classics are not work, they impress you with their looks and their styles, their stories and the innovative ways in which they are told.
One could interpret Kubrick's classic anyhow desired. One could say the film's message is you cannot "cure" someone from what is inherent, in this case, a sociopath. Or, one could say the message of the film is you reap what you sow; you can never escape the mistakes of your past because they will end up coming back at you in any way, shape or form. Of course, there are a plethora of other social messages in this film.
Independent of the derived messages of the story, the film is brilliantly constructed. First and foremost, the main character's evolution throughout the film is admirably conveyed by both Malcolm McDowell and Kubrick. McDowell presents us with an absolutely ruthless Alex Delarge whom everybody fears, regardless of his stature; for all we know, he's eighty feet tall with that demonic look in his eyes. The actor shows, through his character, all the signs of a true sociopath, as seen when Alex gives us his first rendition of "Singin' in the Rain". In this early scene, we literally witness our main character (or as he deems himself, "your narrator") break into a married couple's residence, beat the man and rape the woman, all this while singing the aforementioned song. In stark contrast, after the controversial treatment he undergoes sets him free, he is not at all the same person, and only a great actor can genuinely convey that. In addition, what really got to me was when they put him in that restraining chair and they forced his eyes open. There was no cinema magic involved there, they were actually doing that to McDowell, yet he remained totally in character, albeit the physical discomfort.
Now with regards to what Kubrick does in order to bring life to Alex's evolution throughout the film. There's a certain quality great directors have when making their great films and I believe it is that they immerse themselves so completely, heart and soul, into their works that all throughout them, there is a reigning atmosphere which screams that they are creations of artists. A Clockwork Orange bears these qualities. Unlike bad directors (whomever they may be), great ones do not dissociate themselves from their films, undertaking the shooting as a purely technical process riddled with time constraints and budget concerns. The first part of ACO (that is, until Alex is captured) is dominated by the classical music that Alex loves. Even during the beatings and the rapes, the background music is always happy, feel-good music. This is a means Kubrick uses to show what a sociopathic monster Alex is. Killing is fun, rape is a blast. This is Kubrick's message for the first part of the film. Consider this: Kubrick could just as easily have played heavy, dramatic music, or nothing at all, through all this. But he didn't. The reigning atmosphere here is surreal: the attacks are surreal, the homes are surreal and the characters are surreal. It is as if Kubrick is Alex during the film.
A classic comes down to these pretty basic components: great acting, great directing, a score that improves the action instead of hindering it, great writing and all the offshoots of these. Don't break your heads over what we call classics. They are just damn good films.