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 Crime
statistics indicate that the overwhelming majority of violent crime
is committed by career criminals, repeat offenders, and recidivists.
In response, society vacillates between liberal and conservative
solutions. Most recently we've seen the imposition of more severe
minimum sentencing guidelines, overcrowded prisons, and a philosophy
of warehousing society's failures. How far should a government go
to protect its citizens? How much risk should its citizens take
in giving up some of its freedoms without starting the slippery
slid to totalitarianism? Those weighty issues are at the core of
Anthony Burgess' novel, set in England's not-too-distant future,
and director and screenwriter Stanley Kubrick's brilliantly sardonic
film, A Clockwork Orange.
The film opens with a close-up of the smirking face of a young
punk. He sports a bowler hat and false eyelashes on one eye. His
cufflinks and suspenders are decorated with reproductions of bloody,
ripped-out eyeballs. He is Alex de Large (Malcolm McDowell), the
leader of a small band of three droogs (a term from the remarkably
understandable Nadsat, the hybrid language of the Burgess novel
that borrows words from Russian and slang). As the camera pulls
back, we see Georgie (James Marcus), Dim (Warren Clarke), and Pete
(Michael Tarn), similarly dressed. The voice of the narrator is
Alex's, for this is his story. The gang is fortifying itself before
embarking on a night of terror and depravity in which they intend
to randomly select victims to molest and violate. Kubrick forces
us to become uncomfortable voyeurs as we watch Alex and his droogs
beat a homeless alcoholic senseless, interrupt a rival gang's gang-rape
to attack and maim their fellow brutes, and invade a home to thrash
a man into submission and force him to watch the sadistic rape of
his wife.
After further nights of carnage, eventually Alex is arrested and
sentenced to fourteen years at a maximum-security prison. But ever
the con artist, he works his way up to trustee and gains the friendship
of the prison chaplain (Godfrey Quigley). Alex asks about a new
rehabilitation process he's heard about in which violent offenders
are "cured" and released early. During a visit by the Minister of
the Interior (Anthony Sharp), he manages to draw attention to himself
and becomes a volunteer for the Ludovico Technique. He's transferred
to an experimental facility, where he's to undergo treatment. Alex
will soon learn that the cure is a form of brainwashing, a reprogramming
technique dependent upon aversion therapy. He's routinely given
an injection, then placed in a straight jacket and strapped to a
chair in a large theater. Clamps force his eyelids open, forcing
him to watch the images projected on the movie screen. He's shown
scenes of barbarous behavior, beatings, rape, murder, and war. He
has an unexpected reaction. The injection causes nausea, feelings
of suffocation, the sensation of dying. Each time he's shown violent
and antisocial behavior, he has the same reaction, a psychological
torture almost too terrible to bear. And too terrible it becomes
when, during scenes of Nazi atrocities, he hears his beloved Beethoven's
Ninth used to underscore the onscreen mayhem. Alex realizes that
he'll loose one of the only true pleasures in his life and pleads
to have the music stopped. His doctors refuse.
 Alex's
graduation is a humiliating demonstration. He's brought on stage
by the Minister of the Interior who offers some political pontification.
A man is then brought out. He proceeds to provoke Alex in the most
aggressive way possible. Alex responds as we would expect, but as
soon as his thoughts turn to violence, he's immediately overcome
with a debilitating dread. He begins to dry-heave and falls to the
floor. Only after Alex is forced to lick the soles of his protagonist's
shoes is he left to recover, prostrate on the stage. The curtain
parts, and out steps a beautiful young woman wearing only bikini
underpants. She glides toward Alex and stands before him. He's transfixed,
lust rising. He reaches up to her erect nipples, and is again overcome.
Each time he tries to touch her, the dread returns, until he's a
pitiful, quivering, powerless wretch. He's passed the test. He's
graduated. He's freed.
Alex may no longer be a threat to society, but he's been stripped
of all his defenses. Burgess and Kubrick cleverly have Alex revisit
the scenes of his former abuses. He's punished at each, the victim
of brutalities like the kind he used to dispense without a twinge
of conscience. Ultimately circumstances bring him battered and bleeding
to a home he doesn't yet recognize, the site of the pummeling of
a man and the rape of his wife. Alex is recognized, and is to become
a political pawn between the Right and the Left. The film eventually
eventually leads to its most cynical sequence. The Minister of the
Interior, desperately working to save his Prime Minister's government,
bribes Alex and pledges to help him recover from the terrible injustice
perpetrated upon him. Perhaps it was the extreme psychological torture
at the hands of one of his victims, perhaps it was his near-death
experience, perhaps the Minister authorized a therapy to reverse
Alex's conditioning, but it becomes clear, as Alex sits back in
his hospital bed, mouth open to receive the morsels of food the
Minister offers, that the sociopath is back...
When first released in 1971, this film earned an X rating by the
MPAA (before X became associated with hardcore). Extreme violence,
full frontal nudity, and simulated sex pushed the rating. The film
was trimmed by Kubrick to reduce the rating to R, then restored
again in 1996 after ratings became a bit more liberal. I can't be
sure which version is on this DVD, but it seems to be intact based
on my memories of the original X-rated theatrical run. A Clockwork
Orange is a powerful and disturbing film that provokes questions
relevant to contemporary society. The story is brought to the screen
with great skill by both the director and the cast. A fascinating
portrait of this society, richly created from subtle detail, emerges
in which there seems to have been a widening of the gap between
the have and the have-nots, exasperating the context. Clockwork
Orange received many nominations and awards (see the supplement
section) and deservedly so. The film remains one of my personal
favorites, and should provoke a healthy debate over the direction
of criminal justice and the impact our desire for safety may have
on our freedoms. Highly recommended.
 (Trivia
buffs will want to notice of the soundtrack to Kubrick's 2001: a
space odyssey highly visible in a scene that takes place in a record
store. And a very young body builder named David Prowse (to become
the personification of Darth Vader) is playing Julian, the bodyguard
and companion to the man who was beaten and whose wife was raped.)
Video: How Does The Disc Look?
Presented in Kubrick's intended aspect ratio of 1:66 (although
the image measures closer to 1.54), this non-anamorphic widescreen
remaster of A Clockwork Orange represents a substantial improvement
over the disappointing previous Warner release. Clarity and a rich,
smooth appearance are the most noticeable characteristics of this
new effort. There is still film grain visible in the image, but
it isn't exacerbated by excessive edge enhancement that plagued
the previous disc. Colors are strong, only occasionally appearing
dated, and don't succumb to oversaturation or smearing. The rendered
natural looking fleshtones while blacks were almost always excellent
and well defined. The print used for the transfer has been completely
restored and is impressively devoid of defects for the most part.
(I won't get into the whole anamorphic/aspect ratio debate and you
can make your own decision. But check out Miles Long's review
of Barry Lyndon for a rational opinion against the chosen method
of transferring these discs.)
For a closer look at the quality of the transfer, click
here for some screen shots.
Audio: How Does The Disc Sound?
Remixed from the original theatrical mono track, A Clockwork Orange
contains a brand new English Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack. While
the track sounds very good (especially the music), there less going
on here in the surround than in later Kubrick films such as The
Shining or Full Metal Jacket. The focus of the mix is primarily
on the front three channels, with only quiet rear reinforcement
during the musical selections. Dialog and effects remain predominantly
mono and assigned to the center channel with a more expansive stereo
spread provided by the film's songs. Fidelity is dated, but better
than expected, while the track is fortunately lacking in distracting
background hiss or anomalies. Of all the remixed Kubrick titles,
this is one of the most satisfying simply because it appears to
have the least done to it.
 A
French 5.1 track is also included with English, French, Spanish
and Portuguese subtitles and English Closed Captioning.
Supplements: What Goodies Are There?
The film's original theatrical trailer is presented in full-screen
with mono sound, and also included is a text screen with a list
of notable awards A Clockwork Orange received.
Parting Thoughts
A noticeable improvement over the previous DVD release, the lack
of anamorphic still might rankle some. But the transfer looks very
good, though the 5.1 remix is only fair and the supplements remain
sparse. Still, with Kubrick it is all about the movie, and on that
level, this disc offers the best presentation yet available on home
video.
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