Brecht in Film - Thesis

HONORS - ENGLISH UNDERGRADUATE THESIS
Alexandre SIMON
9532508
Advised by Prof. Myrna W. Selkirk
BRECHT and CONTEMPORARY FILM:

Unveiling a Brechtian Film Aesthetic in the Work of Stanley
Kubrick
April 16, 1998

McGill University; Montreal, Quebec.
Bertolt Brecht and his Theatrical Revolution
Copyright 1998, 2001 by Alexandre Simon
The task of sifting through the endless barrage of critical and analytical writings on
the theories and thoughts of Bertolt Brecht is monumental. Common to many such books
and articles are spiraling discussions into examinations of Brechts personal life and
political views, tracing his metamorphosis from a subjectivist-nihilist at the onset of his
work to a supposed more mature objectivist in the final phase of his writing and directing
career. Cumbrous importance is invariably placed on the Marxist flavor of his thought as
well as the historical content of his plays. With this one-sided approach permeating the
massive body of Brecht-related writing, it is not surprising that at a colloquium held in
Frankfurt in 1978 Brechts work was deemed inadequate by theatre directors because he
could not provide them with enough subject-matter in his plays for their own subjectivity
(Wright, p. 8). In other words, or so this statement appears to indicate, directors found
that Brechts express attachment to Marxist political and social theory, as well as to
specific historical references, rendered his plays inflexible to the adaptations,
interpretations, or modernizations which they evidently considered necessary in
productions of his plays. It appears that the main purpose of Brechts radical approach to
the stage has been besmirched through a focus on the scandalous aspects of his personal
life, and an unflinching attachment to the micro-level statements and observations made by
Brecht throughout his career. Somehow, the many progressive forms of theatre which
have arisen from the Brechtian aesthetic and succeeded in spawning change in the society
in which they took place have failed to convince certain skeptics that Brechts ideas might
in some way consist of more than a mere death-wish toward the Western world. Theatre
for Development around the world, Protest Theatre and Theatre of Resistance in South
Africa, Agit-Prop theatre in Germany, Canada, the U.S., France, and elsewhere have all
enjoyed tremendous success even after 1978 and all stem from or, at the very least, echo
2
Brechts principal ideas about how theatre should function. In addition, the existentialist
theatre of Anouilh, Sartre, Camus, Ionesco, and Beckett all borrow from Brechtian theory,
and these are only a few of the self-proclaimed Brechtian playwrights who have enjoyed
critical acclaim in the last century. There must be something to Brechts ideas then which
transcends Marxism and German history and which continues to be relevant to theatre
today.
Brecht and Film: The Birth of a New Aesthetic.
The result of such a narrow appreciation of Brechts ideas as often found in the
literature is a lack of lateral thought. Careful analysis reveals however that not only do
Brechts ideas continue to thrive today in the theatre, but they have also found their way
into several other artistic mediums, including film. Although Brechts influence in the
cinema has never in fact been an issue for debate the Cahiers du Cinma magazine was
for a time dedicated exclusively to examining Brechts influence in film; many filmmakers
such as Jean-Luc Goddard, Lindsay Anderson, Luis Buuel, and Rainer Fassbinder have
overtly professed their debt to Brecht most of the films which are commonly cited
revolve around symbolism and montage, and are usually found to be inaccessible to the
masses. In the twentieth century however, while film replaces the stage as the choice form
of visual entertainment for the masses, the theatre seems to have taken on the stigma of an
art form for the intellectual elite, and critics seem reluctant to acknowledge as Brechtian
anything which does not posses the elitist quality of the stage. What is lost here is the fact
that Brecht did not write for the elite. In fact, the idea of creating dramatic pieces which,
steeped in symbolism and intellectual semiotics, find themselves more concerned with
revolutionary form than revolutionary ideas and calling it Brechtian would probably have
3
the man tossing in his grave. Brecht wrote political works for the masses, in order that the
masses might become able to mobilize themselves against an oppressive force; the one
pre-requisite is that the masses be able to see and decode the messages that are
propagated. Strangely, the one medium today which reaches the largest proportion of what
Brecht would call the masses is the American film, and yet the suggestion of Brechtian
content therein is deemed ridiculous by both the Suvins and Esslins of Brechtian
Puritanism and by the Kolkers and Wrights of a more postmodern Brechtian camp alike
(Kolker, p.157; Wright, p.6; Suvin, p.268; Esslin, 1959, p.137). And yet, Brecht was
fascinated with film throughout his life. Been to the cinema a lot, he noted in his diary
for 6 July 1920. Specially detective dramas. In New York, during an unsuccessful run of
The Mother, Gerhard Eisler recalls:
Then we drove off to 42 nd Street and had a look at the gangster films featuring
that splendid man Jack Cagney, Public Enemy Number One and so on. Those were our
social studies. (Willett, 1984, p.108; Bunge, p.233)
Nevertheless, many of the results which Brecht hoped to see arise from his art,
results which will constitute the basis of the analysis to follow, have indeed taken place as
a result of certain American films, and upon closer inspection many of Brechts ideas are
readily apparent at the core of several filmmakers agendas.
The reasons for this shying-away of several writers and critics (Brecht himself
being no small exception) from qualifying a big-budget studio film as Brechtian in any way
are not entirely unreasonable. One of Brechts principle notions was that reactionary ideas
must be presented in a revolutionary form. The Hollywood film is admittedly quite distinct
from anything reactionary as its very existence fuels the capitalist environment in which it
prospers. One of Brechts plays, The Threepenny Opera, was in fact turned into a film
during Brechts life by G.W. Pabst and writer Leo Lania. The controversial legal battle
4
resulting from this project will be remembered for some time as it even earned itself the
comic title, The Threepenny Lawsuit. Brecht insisted that the original intent of the script
had been glossed over by the sensational and fantastic constituents of the film version,
despite the efforts of Lania to remain as faithful to Brechts original intentions as the film
could permit. Brechts staunch friend and supporter, Herbert Ihering, bitterly attacked the
Threepenny film, declaring that it had such a fairy-tale-like effect and [was] told with
such charm and humor that in the end one completely disregards the intended meaning and
just enjoys the story (Esslin, 1959, p. 44). The theory that the very nature of the film
was itself a barrier to change and revolutionary ideological transaction certainly held true
for the greater part of the century. In 1962, Frankenheimers film The Manchurian
Candidate overtly denounced the capitalist system, unveiling the true nature of our
political system in a light that America had scarcely seen on the big screen. However the
films sensational and romantic undertones succeeded only in undermining any political
effects the piece might otherwise have brought to bear, much like Ihering believed was the
result of the Threepenny film.
Fortunately, what is true of many popular films is certainly not true of all. Between
the artsy, highbrow films of Goddard and the sensational and sentimental drivel of Nora
Ephron, we can begin to discern a middle ground of cinematic style, a style which though
functioning within the popular medium is able to shock and alienate large audiences who
would otherwise never be exposed to the messages these films convey. What Brecht never
lived to witness was the way in which the American film would flourish in its ability to
reach such a large proportion of the lower classes. Surely such a tool of ideological
transaction, however steeped in capitalist values, could not have been completely
disregarded by a man so intent on propagating his ideas. His fear, that change could not
5
result from an art form which itself reinforced the status-quo, would soon have been
quenched. However rarely, the cinema has served in the latter half of the century as an
invaluable tool for raising awareness and inciting change, in ways that the theatre could
never have hoped to achieve. Among the American filmmakers who have become experts
at using the film medium in an intelligent and responsible manner we find the likes of
Stanley Kubrick whose work has aroused a great deal of controversy in the last thirty
years. Most articles on Kubrick refer to him as a rigorously controlling and exacting
director, a perfectionist, and a troublemaker. His film Dr. Strangelove was met with
outcries from government offices as the New York Times exclaimed Moscow could not
have bought better publicity. (Walker, 168) This is not all together dissimilar to the
constant outcry over Brechts own writings earlier in the century. Kubrick among others
has found a way to deal with social and aesthetic issues in a popular and accessible form,
all the while revealing the practices through which they operate. In doing so, he reveals
the mechanics of the film industry itself as well as those of the social environment in which
it flourishes. This is precisely what Brecht himself set out to do with his Gestus and
Verfremdungseffekt, and upon closer inspection we will discover that in fact the techniques
and devices employed by such filmmakers as Kubrick bare a startling resemblance to those
which Brecht designed for the same purpose. Through this examination, we will be able to
formulate a new Brechtian film aesthetic for the latter tier of the century, one which adapts
Brechts methods and aims to a rapidly changing and modernizing medium, and one which
will carry the possibilities of social change through art into the next century.
Revolution From Within: Using Film to Examine the World
Brecht, Kubrick, Alienation, and Contemporary Film.
6
In an 1987 issue of Rolling Stone, Stanley Kubrick told interviewer Tim Cahill,
The stories we do on film are basically rooted in the theatre. Even Woody Allens movies,
which are wonderful, are very traditional in their structure. A moments reflection, and
this seemingly bold statement becomes quite obvious. While the stories have remained the
same, what has evolved is the manner in which they are recounted. The reluctance of
critics to assign significant artistic and political merit to popular films as is normally
accorded to art forms of a more elitist nature is rooted in the very same issue which so
disgruntled Brecht when his Threepenny Opera was adapted to the screen. Kubrick
attacks the same Hollywood sentimentality. Are people behaving the way we all really
behave, or are they behaving the way we would like them to behave? [] People love
[Frank Capra films] which are beautifully made but I wouldnt describe them as a true
picture of life. (Cahill, 369-76) Brecht certainly felt, we can assume, the same way about
the plays of Racine or Mrime which propel us into the sentimental, emotion and desire-
driven lives of fantastic characters. Truly the stories have not changed, the task is not to
find new stories but new ways of telling them.
Pabsts failure to escape this same sentimentality in his attempt to transfer
Threepenny Opera to the big screen, in a way which satisfied Brechts sensibilities, is in no
way an indication of the screens ability to perform the same tasks as Brechts theatre.
Brechts plays were effective in raising consciousness and awareness in audiences because
they came under the guise that had succeeded in blinding and sedating audiences to begin
with: the theatre. The Threepenny Opera, Mother Courage and Her Children, The Life of
Galileo are all plays which are effective in that they take situations common to realist and
romantic plays, and coerce the spectator through alienating techniques into giving a
second thought to those situations which have begun to seem commonplace. A mother,
7
struggling to feed her two sons and her daughter during an unending and economically
draining war, eventually loses her children and is forced nonetheless to carry a cart of used
goods around in order to stay alive. The plot to Mother Courage seems to have all the
makings of a Movie-of-the-Week. And, therefore, its no wonder that Pabst fell into a trap
when adapting Threepenny to the screen. However, it is much less the story than the
approach Brecht uses to examine these commonplace situations which is responsible for
the tremendous impact of his plays. And the effects of Brechts works are identical to
those of Kubricks in their ability to provoke and often demand a critical assessment of the
ideas of the piece and their impact on the lives of the audience. The mainstream cinema
has so often sedated audiences in an identical fashion to the Phaedras and Carmens of
the romantic and realist movements in theatre. Film is therefore in an ideal place to do
what Brechts plays have done in revealing to audiences exactly how the medium is used
to mask social realities. This is where Kubricks films are quintessentially Brechtian.
Depictions of sex, family, and violence in A Clockwork Orange.
A Clockwork Orange is a perfect example of bringing to bare the issue of sex and
violence in cinema. While Brecht fought to expose the ways in which the theatre of his
time succeeded in desensitizing audiences to the horrors of their social and political
environments, Kubrick uses this film to bring into question all of our sensibilities toward
depictions of sex, family, and violence in the media. In discussing his Epic theatre, Brecht
commented,
The production took the subject-matter and the incidents shown and put
them through a process of alienation that is necessary to all understanding. When
something seems the most obvious thing in the world it means that any attempt to
understand the world has been given up.
What is natural must have the force of what is startling . This is the only way
to expose the laws of cause and effect. Peoples activity must simultaneously be so and be
capable of being different (Willett, 1957, p.71)
8
According to Brecht, when everything in a story seems natural, no one will pause
and go through it thoroughly. You dont normally examine your own house or your own
feeding habits, do you? he asks. The A-effect consists in turning the object of which one
is to be made aware from something ordinary, familiar, immediately accessible into
something peculiar, striking and unexpected. (Mitter, p.44) This is precisely what Kubrick
sets out to with this film. The ordinary movie-violence which began to permeate North
American movie theaters, was no longer something to be laughed at or shied-away from.
It became something to examine, study and criticize.
Despite the abundance of violent acts in the first part of A Clockwork Orange (the
beating of a homeless drunk, the rape of Mrs. Alexander and beating of her husband, the
murder of the Cat Lady) it should be pointed out that actually there is very little real
violence in the sense of explicit detail (something which has become so common in many
contemporary films, along with explicit sexual acts). The film achieves a distancing effect
through the use of various artistic devices such as language, music, lighting, camera
angles, costuming and choreography. In clip-1, a rape and inter-gang skirmish is
transformed by a picturesque setting, and inappropriate soundtrack and choreography.
This may be compared to Brechts alienation effect (or A-effect). Joan Ada Benedict
characterizes Brechts idea of alienation as a distancing device which makes it possible to
experience socially-conditioned phenomena (everyday situations, emotions and
problems) in an objectively comprehensible manner, normally impossible because
familiarity and overexposure tend to produce clich reactions (Benedict, 87). Brecht
himself states,
A representation that alienates is one which allows us to recognize its subject,

but at the same time makes it seem unfamiliar. The classical and medieval theatre
alienated its characters by making them wear human or animal masks (one immediately
recalls the masks worn by Alex and his gang during the rape scene); the Asiatic theatre
even today uses musical and pantomimic A-effects (found throughout all of Kubricks
9
films). Such devices were certainly a barrier to empathy, and yet this technique owed
more, not less, to hypnotic suggestion than do those by which empathy is achieved.
(Willett, 57, p.192)
Even though Brecht is talking about the theatre, says Benedict, the use of such
devices can easily be transferred to film; in fact, filmic devices such as camera angles,
lighting and focus can intensify effective distancing or alienation. Kubrick does not
consider the violence in Clockwork Orange to be objectionable in the sense of being
dangerous to the audience. The kind of violence in films that he does find potentially
dangerous is what he calls the fun kind of violence unrealistic violence, sanitized
violence, violence presented as a joke, the kind found in James Bond movies and the
Itchy and Scratchy show on the Simpsons. This is the only kind of violence he can imagine
anyone wanting to copy because it is mixed up with other ingredients that might make it
attractive to imitation. In effect, Kubrick does not believe in a relationship between screen
presentation of violence and social acts of violence, except that the former presents a
fictitious version of the latter (Strick and Houston, p. 63). The violence of the first section
of the film which turns the audience against Alex, and in extreme cases against the film
itself, is transformed in the later sections of the film into a criticism of the social and
political system: Pee and Ems abandonment of Alex, the use of former gang members as
police officers, the hypocrisy of the politician with respect to violence all contribute to
the making and un-making of Alex through society. Through an alienating portrayal of
violence and society, the audience is left to question both their own sensibilities towards
violence in an non-sensational form , and their view of a social order which reinforces the
images which have so effectively disturbed them. Several of Kubricks other works, Paths
of Glory and Full Metal Jacket in particular, draw interesting parallels between violence in
society and ambivalence toward it on behalf of both the political elite as well as the
10
spectator. With a Brechtian alienating approach toward the social issues in his films
Kubrick succeeds in forcing audiences to reconsider what they believe to be the most
obvious thing in the world and exposes the destructive results of an uncritical acceptance
of violence as entertainment, and of political corruption as inescapable.
Epic Characters in Epic Conditions:

The Relationship Between Person and Place.
The Function of Characters and Settings in Kubrick.
The starting point of Brechtian alienation is invariably nested in the characters of
his plays. The extremely unique and distinctive acting methods prescribed by Brecht and
the twisted and complex nature of his characters are the principal force behind the
thought-provoking and enlightening effects of his pieces. These Epic characters succeed in
generating in the audience a spirit of scrutiny toward the issues discussed in the plays.
They achieve this both through their inability to prevail over the forces which govern
them, and through the critical stance that Brecht insists each actor must adopt toward his
or her own character. He says in a description of his Epic theatre:
The actor does not have to be the man he portrays. He has to describe his
character just as it would be described in a book
The artists object is to appear strange and even surprising to the audience. He
achieves this by looking strangely at himself and his work. As a result everything put
forward by him has a touch of the amazing. Everyday things are thereby raised above
the level of the obvious and automatic
What I mean is: if I choose to see Richard III I dont want to feel myself to be
Richard III, but to glimpse this phenomenon in all its strangeness and
incomprehensibility. (Willett, 1957, pp.27, 68, 92)
The reaction Brecht describes here is largely a product of the unique nature of the
characters. In his attempts to create a critical division between actor and character, Brecht
went so far, in a production of Galileo, as to have his actor smoke a cigar during his non-
speaking moments, forcing him immediately to adopt a separate attitude toward his role as
11
that which possessed him while enacting it. With his revolutionary characters Brecht
hoped to disrupt the associations and expectations audiences had come to build toward the
social determinism prevalent in most other forms of theatre. Things are not normal,
seems to sum up his view, a view that advocates the same idea Kubrick expresses toward
Frank Capra: everything seems normal, the happiness as well as the suffering, but it most
certainly is not.
This notion, that things are not as they should be, is the backbone of Kubricks
filmmaking career, and his characters are often the vehicle for unmasking the veritable
abnormality of a world many of us have begun to assume is unchangeable. British film
analyst Alexander Walker describes the typical Kubrick character as entangled and
destroyed in systems of his own creation, systems that turn upon him and take him over.
(Walker, p.55-66) We learn more about the characters from the way in which they occupy
a particular space than from the words they use. As Robert Phillip Kolker states,
Kubricks is a cinema of habitations and rituals, of overwhelming spaces and intricate
maneuvers, of the loss of human control, of defeat. Kubrick sets out to expose the so-
called normalities of our world and our social environment, by leaving them the task of
defining his characters. With the responsibility firmly on the shoulders of the environment
of his films, the spectator gradually turns to society for an explanation of the characters
actions and failures. This marks a complete departure from the psychologically-driven
characters which permeate realist theatre and film, which prevent the spectator from
looking any further than the characters and their emotions for explanations. She did it
cause her father abused her, or He did it cause hes a bastard, are typical mainstream-
film reactions which become impossible toward characters in Kubricks works. With
critical eyes cast firmly on the worlds of Kubricks characters, the audience is now
12
prepared to discover just how abnormal these worlds really are, and how, as we will
examine further, it is man who has created them and made them inescapable.
The shaping of the characters by their environment begins with Kubricks
relationship to the spaces and the characters with whom he fills them. He distances himself
from the space, observes it, peoples it often with wretched human beings, but refuses to
become involved with their wretchedness. (Kolker, p.82-86) There is never any attempt on
Kubricks behalf to generate in the spectator any kind of feeling toward his characters, be
it sympathy or disgust. His characters are neither good nor bad. More specifically, the
characters who show a desire to help the world are all ultimately impotent and left to seem
ludicrous for having even attempted to do good in a world which has no definition for the
term. The ones who show complete contempt for the world become more of a reflection
of the environment which they have created than of their own psychological makeup. With
such a collection of figures, it is easy to see how the audience, like Kubrick, is able to
refrain from becoming involved with the psychology of the characters. The result is often
two-pronged. First, and this reaction is common to all of Kubricks films, the expectations
of the audience are invariably foiled. When the characters attempt to act in the normal
confines of the typical cinematic narrative, they find that they cannot. Audiences are
surprised by the failures and shortcomings of the heroes. When the characters are unable
to function in the normal fashion expected of them, the world around them ceases to seem
normal after all. Second, and this underlines Brechts hope for Epic theatre, the audience
is now left unable to feel for the characters, and is left no choice therefore but to think
about the environment which has doomed them.
Characters Determined by Space in Paths of Glory.
13
A perfect example of creating character from environment is Paths of Glory, more
specifically with regard to its hero, Colonel Dax. Their are two worlds in Paths of Glory,
two worlds which never collide, and are shown, with sharp transitions in lighting and
camera angles, to be entirely distinct and unrelated throughout the film. Ironically these
two worlds are the trenches and the castles of the French military. What happens in these
two completely dissimilar worlds is fascinating given the inexorable way in which they
depend on each other. As Walker, Kolker and several authors have pointed out, the
essential struggle in the film is between classes something Brecht was all too familiar
with the aristocratic leaders of the French World War I army on one side and the
proletarian troops, the scum, or the children as the general staff calls them, on the other
(Kolker, p.92; Walker, p.84; Kagan, p.65). The first sequence in the Chateau, with all its
accouterments, is itself an image of elegance and rigid formal structures. By emphasizing
the spaces of the chateau, Kubrick demands the viewer understand and account for its
associations and connotations, particularly within the given context. (Kolker, p.92) It is in
this cold and elegant, inhumanly scaled habitation, that the generals play a brutal and
elegant game. I wish I had your taste in carpets and pictures, says General Broulard to
General Mireau when he first greets him, intending to cajole him and bribe him to lead his
troops to disaster. The other world is comprised of the soldiers trenches, battlefields and
taverns. Clearly an undesirable world to live in, its inhabitants are completely controlled by
a force they are incapable of seeing. And there is no sense that anywhere else in the world
exists. There is no indication of any physical connection between the front and the
chateau, or between both places and anywhere else. Kubrick is creating a closed world, or
rather closed worlds since they are isolated from each other. Where the notion of
14
environmentally created characters comes in is through the interesting way in which the
characters change from space to space.
Both Mireau and Dax take turns attempting to enter each others realm, but each is
out of place when he arrives. During the first chateau scene, the two generals are seen as
comfortable and evil. As illustrated by clip-2, the camera moves with them, circling around
the room with rhythms of deceit and death: camera angles from the ground up held at
length, slow paced movement around large vacant spaces, calculated shots following the
generals in their God-playing games. But when Mireau enters the trenches, as seen in clip-
3, he is completely out of his environment. During his brutal inspection of the troops the
camera jumps ahead of him, making dynamic, as Kolker accurately describes, the viewers
revulsion at his mechanical Hello there, soldier, ready to kill more Germans? Conversely,
Daxs walk through the trenches is comfortable and assured; the camera, as shown in clip-
4 not only precedes him, but shares his point of view. In the chateau, however, he is either
isolated or enclosed in the discomfort of its spaces (Kolker, p.93). As we will examine
further, one cannot truly call Dax a champion for the poor soldiers. He is constantly being
isolated, both by the camera and the space, as well as by the Generals. He is being
pressured to join the world of the Chateau, a world of individual achievements and glory,
and part of him even desires such ascension. His heart however belongs with his troops.
With his character split by these two worlds, none of which suits him completely, he
ultimately finds himself incapable of succeeding in either. The two worlds make a strong
and impacting statement that is echoed in many of Brechts plays: There are those who are
in control and those who are being controlled, and it is impossible to exist between the
two. When someone attempts to move from one world to the other, they find that they
cannot. These worlds come with rules necessary for functioning within them. And
15
ironically, the result is that man creates environments only to find himself controlled by his
own creation. This issue is compounded in Kubricks next film, Dr. Strangelove, or How I
Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.
Space, Communication and Character in Dr. Strangelove.
With this film, arguably Kubricks most successful, the notion of separate, isolated,
yet completely interdependent spaces is taken a step further. In the place of the chateau
and trenches, we are presented with three extremely frightening settings: The War Room,
where the Government heads ponder the imminent destruction of the world, Burpleson
Military Control Base (specifically the office of General Jack D. Ripper), and the inside of
the Bomber, home to Major Kong and his crew. In addition to similar drastic and isolating
changes from one space to the next as seen in Paths of Glory, Kubricks narrative adds a
second form of isolation. The base cuts off all communication with the outside as part of
the ominous Plan R, and this after ensuring that the same conditions will apply to the
bomber. As a result, communication between the spaces is not only absent, it is impossible.
In fact, all attempts at communication are stifled in the film, whether with regard to
President Muffleys attempt at conversation with the Russian Prime Minister or
Mandrakes attempt to contact and notify the President about the recall code. The result is
a compounded isolation of three very different spaces outside of which, it is suggested,
there is nothing else.
The spaces also help enable Kubrick to define his characters. As Thomas Allen
Nelson points out, each setting becomes a dark cave or womb, where characters are
16
surrounded by machines that once served as tools of communication and progress, but
now function as weapons of destruction and descent (Nelson, p.96). The office of General
Ripper is dark, confined, and reeking of paranoia and insanity. After issuing the order to
proceed with Plan R, Ripper rises and closes the venetian blinds that cover the wall of
windows in his office. As shown in clip-5, he wraps himself in the artificial illumination of
fluorescent lights and the psychic darkness of a primitive mentality. He cannot see outside,
and is quite literally living inside the twisted delusions of his own sick mind. His office, an
extension of this mind, is equally deluded. The room is strewn with antique guns and
model airplanes, an aerial photo of Burpleson air base and photographs of bombers frozen
in space, and a sign reading Peace is our Profession.
The inside of the B-52 Bomber also determines the makeup of the figures
inhabiting it. To start, Kubrick and his lighting photographer, Gil Taylor, use only first
available light and achieve an effect that is spectral and nightmarish, yet as solidly realistic
as a piece of photo-reportage (Walker, p.179) The realism pushes Kubricks point even
further. The men inside this device are completely governed by it. Every movement in this
plane is executed according to some standard procedure. The camera stops and focuses on
every label, every switch, every dial, and every piece of paper or machinery that highlights
the level of control that these man-made devices hold over their creators. The actions of
the characters inside the plane, actions which out of context seem ridiculous choosing
the nearest possible bombing target when the first becomes unreachable, assembling a
travel-kit which contains items as ridiculous as nine packs of chewing gum, three lipsticks,
three pairs of nylon stockings, and a miniature combination Russian phrase book and Bible
among other things are made to seem not only logical but necessary within the rules of
17
the system in which these men exist. The same effect as discussed earlier is felt
exponentially here. We cannot blame the characters for their actions. We must turn our
critical eye to the man-made systems that have enclosed and doomed them.
The War Room shapes its inhabitants in an almost more disturbing way than does
Rippers office or the bomber, principally because we would like to think that at the very
least, our leaders have control over something. This brings up a very strong idea in
Kubricks work which suggests that, contrary to the Marxist notion that control is being
exerted by an elite, the only thing exerting control at all are the rules and systems man
himself has created rules which control not only the masses but, to a more terrifying
extent, the elite themselves. The War Room depicts the faceless men around it as Gods. A
giant halo of light looms over the perfect oval table, in a room decorated with enormous
electronic world maps. The first few shot of Dr. Strangelove place the halo directly over
his head giving him the look of a kind of savior, ironically, the salvation he brings about is
the destruction of mankind. Clip-6 shows both the leaders and Dr. Strangelove in their
heavenly abode. But even the Gods are isolated. Though all the seats are equipped with
phones, all attempts to use them are foiled. General Turgidson cannot speak with his
mistress because, as he says, My president needs me now The president himself
cannot communicate with the Russian Prime Minister because he has been drinking and
the music in the background is too loud. And slowly, the rules and conventions of the War
Room begin to take over the characters who inhabit it making it impossible, regardless of
the nobility of their desires, to escape the web they have woven. When the President
exclaims, Gentlemen, you cant fight in here, this is the War Room! we realize to what
point these men have lost sight of their subjection to their man-made world. We
18
understand as well the futility of blaming the characters themselves for their actions, and
we turn rather to the environment they have created.
The Descent of Man: War, Religion, and Technology in Kubrick
Several of Kubricks films discuss mans relationship to technology and the
undeniable fact of mans enslavement by the machine. Both Dr. Strangelove and 2001: A
Space Odyssey began as embryonic ideas, which in the process of creation grew and
expanded themselves well beyond the explanatory boundaries outlined by Kubrick himself:
Man must strive to gain mastery over himself as well as over his machines.
Somebody has said that man is the missing link between primitive apes and civilized
human beings. You might say that this idea is inherent in 2001. We are semi-civilized,
capable of cooperation and affection, but needing some sort of transfiguration into a
higher form of life. Since the means to obliterate life on Earth exists, it will take more
than just careful planning and reasonable cooperation to avoid some eventual
catastrophe. The problem exists, and the problem is essentially a moral and spiritual
one. (Nelson, p.100; Phillips, p.148)
A self-created tool which continues to victimize mankind, technology is another
quintessentially Brechtian topic which Kubrick attempts to make seem both abnormal yet
inescapable.
Man and Machine: Technology in Dr. Strangelove and 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Possibly the most extensively discussed idea in Dr. Strangelove is Mans
relationship to technology, or more specifically, mankinds subjugation to the machine.
Underlying this idea, as stated above, is the bitter irony in that it is mankind who has
created this technology, and is now controlled by it. Kubrick explores this relationship
with Brechtian results. It is impossible to view this film and not feel critical toward the
inextricable way in which we have bound ourselves to technology, especially with regard
to an audience of today. On board the B-52, it becomes hard to distinguish what is
machine and what is man. When anything official is to be done on-board, it is done with
19
technical language and mathematical precision. As illustrated in clip-7, when the order for
Plan R comes in over the CRN 114 Discriminator, it is a simple 6-digit code. We then
watch the co-pilot find the appropriate code reference book for that particular day, look
up the code, verify that it matches the screen, examine the order, verify once more, and
alert Major Kong, all with an eerie, mechanical pace and precision. At each step the
camera focuses on the appropriate label or indication. During the preparation for firing of
the missiles, a series of mechanical exchanges is made between Kong and his boys
delivered with a coldness that is amplified by the context and impact of the orders:
Bomb fusing master safeties on: electronic, barometric, time, impact.

Detonator set for zero altitude.
(A light flashes)
Bomb door circuit negative function.
Switch in back-up circuit.
Still negative function.
Engage emergency power.
Operate manual override.
Fire explosive bolts.
Still negative function, sir. Operating circuits dead, sir.
When the plane is nearly hit by a Russian (or perhaps American) missile, the crew
reacts with computer-like efficiency. It is one of the very few scenes in a feature film
maybe the only one showing characters coping with this kind of crisis by the book.
The scene is shown in clip-8. Every step comes from a Boeing 707 flight manual (Walker,
p.190). What one usually sees in such crises is a pilot hauling on the controls to pull the
aircraft out of a dive. Kubrick shows it takes logical training plus coordinated action, the
sense of man acting like a machine, rather than brawn and a prayer. In some respects, says
Nelson, this machine environment compares with the merger of World War I barbarity and
eighteenth-century neoclassicism in Paths of Glory: It provides both a context for
evaluating the human madness within the film and a perspective on where that madness
comes from and where it may be going (Nelson, p.95). The character of Dr. Strangelove,
20
though we will discuss it further, is also an instance of man and machine merging to the
formers peril. The epitome of mans lust for technical perfection, he relies on technology
to move (with is wheelchair) and to interact with objects (mechanical arm), and his
attitude is clearly one of superiority superiority of machine over man. Here, says Nelson,
Kubrick shows a world cut off from reason and outside contacts, both actual and
imaginative, cut off, indeed, from everything that might enable it to see the ironic truth of
machine logic, which is that the very technology which assists the human dream of order
and duration nuclear deterrents, fail-safe systems, and a contingency plan like Plan R
is based on a principal of mechanical predictability that must, if it is to have purpose,
work itself out: Once committed to their course, and no longer subject to rational
intervention (Human meddling, as Strangelove calls it) Kong and his plane find a target
and not only fulfill their mission but the Doomsday Machines as well (Nelson, p.95-7).
2001: A Space Odyssey, by no coincidence the next film to follow Dr. Strangelove,
takes mans obsession with technology to new heights, or more precisely, into outer space.
Kubrick lays out the message of the film very clearly right from the outset. The lengthy
overture the tale of the Ape-men spells out, without even the use of words, the fate
that lies ahead for mankind. As shown in clip-9, we are presented with the Earth in all its
natural beauty: jagged, uneven landscapes, irregular shapes, hills and valleys. Its
inhabitants are also very natural: the apes are unkempt and brutish, and there is no
apparent order about them. When two quarreling bands face off, they shout and growl in
their unintelligible banter, and ultimately the more assertive of the two bands prevails. The
system, which echoes in many ways the way in which todays world function (right down
to the incomprehensible and meaningless shouting), seems to work, until an alien element
is introduced. The monolith, the first smooth-edged structure in the piece, is the catalyst in
21
a series of drastic changes in the evolution of mankind down his path to oblivion. The
opening music, Strauss Thus Spake Zarathustra, is ironic and Brechtian. The piece is
based on a tale by Nietzsche in which a mankind figure, epitomizing man in his most
natural state, becomes aware of the world and learns to dance. He leaves his cave to enjoy
his new-found awareness. Mankind in 2001 comes to the same realization, however in
Kubricks film, the dance takes mankind over and ultimately destroys him. The ape
becomes aware of the weapon just as the piece goes from a minor to major scale,
suggestive of a wonderful change. What the discovery truly entails is somewhat less than
wonderful.
We then leave the apes to find mankind has mastered the dance. In clip-10, to the
waltz of The Blue Danube, we see glorious space ships and stations dance around the
planets in clean symmetrical and mathematical dance steps. In contrast to the overture,
when we finally enter the space station we find a complete absence of unevenness. All the
surfaces are smooth and exact. Even man is now clean, dressed in flat and straight clothes,
and acting in a more civilized fashion. The camera shots for the duration of the time in
the station and on board the ship are always very mathematical. Circular shapes invariably
occupy the center of the picture. Man is often shown to be a piece of the symmetrical
picture. In one pod, as illustrated in clip-11, the astronauts discuss HAL while the
computer reads their lips from a TV monitor outside. In this composition, men are
surrounded, dwarfed, walled in by technology, which hears even their whispered secrets.
Several shot are taken from behind HALs lens through which shapes seem distorted and
uneven, and through which man appears as he did thousands of years ago. The camera
puts the audience into a God-like position: we look at helpless mankind, through the
geometrically and mathematically perfect eye of his master, the computer. On board the
22
ship we encounter the same mechanical reliance on procedure and protocol as in the
cockpit on the B-52. Here though, Kubrick shows us what happens if human meddling
as Strangelove designates human reason tries to interfere with these procedures. When
Poole and Bowman try to use their own common sense to repair the malfunctioning HAL,
the computers man-made defense system comes to life and swiftly eradicates its
contaminants, restoring the status quo. A constant effort is made to give the computer as
many human qualities as the humans have computer-like ones, in order to expose the
futility of trying to control something so similar to us. If computers are what mankind
aspires to, it is no small wonder that they already find themselves governed by them. The
main computer on board the ship has a first name (HAL) and a voice far more human and
soothing than Dr. Floyds back on Earth, and he possesses several distinctly human
instincts, self-preservation being the most obvious; he tries to reason with Bowman while
he slowly and mercilessly shuts HAL down:
Look, Dave, I can see youre really upset you should sit down calmly, take a
stress pill, think things over I know everything has not been quite right with me I
feel much better now, I really do I admit Ive made some very poor decisions lately
HAL resorts to persuasion, deceit, and ultimately groveling, and has become as
human as possible. The red-lit brain room sees man and machine switch roles, as
Bowman disposes of HAL as ruthlessly and mechanically as HAL eliminates Poole earlier
on. The red light coupled with the intensity of his work begin to give Bowman the
character of the machine. HALs voice becomes pathetic, evoking empathy for the only
time in the film:
Dave. Stop. Stop. Will you. Stop, DaveWill you stop, Dave. Stop,
Dave Im afraid Im 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 Im afraid.
23
Poetically, agonizingly, HALs lobotomy mimics natural death, grinding down into
senility and finally second childhood. Clip-12 marks this descent. Querulously, faltering,
singsong: Good afternoon, Gentlemen. I am HAL-9000 computer. Mr. Langley taught
me to sing a song Its called Daisy Dai-sy, dai-sy, give-- falters HAL, going down
to death. Bowman, his eyes haunted, proven a man by mind and murder, hovers over him
(Kagan, 156-7). Incredibly, this murder seems as horrible as that of another life form.
Man has created a monster and like the evil doctor killing his own Frankenstein, destroys a
life-form he himself has created. As the quote earlier on suggests, man has not yet
completely understood the machine. The end of the film sees Bowman become the pawn
of a higher intelligence, an intelligence beyond that of any computer, and we are reminded
of the futility inherent in mankinds constant and unceasing attempts to maintain control
over his environment and his destiny. The gaze at the character is that of the intelligence
that has captured him. Nelson observes that it is only when Bowman abandons both the
artificial enclosures of technology (pod and space-suit), the formal remains of pre-
mechanical man (the eighteenth-century gentleman, in the Star-Gate, eating dinner and
breaking the crystal glass), that missing link between the Ape-mans bone-weapon and Dr.
Floyds machine, that he is able to evolve into a higher life form, and finally grasp the full
reality of his existence. (Nelson, p.132) When HAL credits his malfunction to human error,
and states with absolute certainty that no HAL 9000 has ever made a computer-error, we
understand the irony of the statement. Computers are made by men. The only mistakes
they can make, of course, are human ones.
War, Religion and Society in Paths of Glory, Barry Lyndon and Full Metal Jacket.
Both Kubrick and Brecht share similar interests with the topic of war. Brecht lived
through both World Wars himself and, in Germany, was in an ideal position to witness the
24
harsh effects of military action on society. Kubrick was eleven when the Second World
War broke out and also saw Vietnam play an important role in his life. What both men
attempt to do in their work is remove the mystique that surrounds the concept of war, and
expose it for the dehumanizing and segregating phenomenon that it is. There is a terrifying
discrepancy in Paths of Glory between the reasons for which the Generals go to war and
those of the soldiers. Ultimately, the soldiers motives are shown to be invalid, despite the
nobility of their intent. The story is set up in such a way that the three soldiers innocence
is beyond question. Beyond question, that is, by normal human standards. What we are
shown however, swiftly and without remorse, is that during a war, the Generals decide
what normal standards should be. Gavin Lambert points out in his Sight and Sound review
that more frightening than the physical horror of combat is the social structure of the war:
The world seems cruelly divided into the leaders and the led. The officers
conduct their foxy intrigues in the elegant rooms of a great chateau, and the setting
somehow emphasizes their indifference to human life. The men go to the trenches and
into battle, as in peacetime they went to offices and factories. (Lambert, p.144)
Kubrick succeeds in making the world of combat seem as unnatural and abnormal
as possible. As in all of Brechts plays, the entire film is strewn with ironies to further
accentuate this effect. Mother Courage describes the war as though it were simply a series
of inhuman business negotiations. In Paths of Glory, three men on trial will be shot by
their own side because they were not shot by the enemy. Lieutenant Roget slyly talks
Corporal Paris out of telling the truth about the patrol, and so does Dax, later, for the
same reasons. Lieutenant Roget, who should have been shot for what he did on the patrol,
is put in charge of the firing squad instead. Dax, the noble hero, is forced to blackmail to
save his men. Even the title is ironic: There are no paths of glory, all paths lead almost
inevitably to ruin. Mireaus choice of such a path dooms them all, including Mireau
himself. Dax, who seems to have walked the Glory Road, is condemned and hated when
25
he tries to assert the principles by which he lives. In fact it seems, as Lambert points out,
that success in this world is dependent on wits, endurance, aggression, and tolerance for
inflicting pain (Kagan, p.65). And throughout all of this, the result is invariably the same:
we cannot either praise Dax for his bravery or condemn Mireau or Broulard for their
cruelty. For within the man-made world of politics and war, it is the Generals who are
respecting the rules. When Dax tries to impose human values on a system that ignores
them, he is destined to fail.
Probably the most terrifying aspect of Full Metal Jacket is the way in which
religion, sex and war are intermingled in an attempt to make war seem as natural a part of
life as worship and procreation. Cleverly, this intermingling reveals both the absurdity of
war, and the frighteningly manipulative ways in which the military brainwashes its troops.
Once again, Kubrick presents us with a series of isolated worlds, the first of which is the
barracks and fields of the Parris Island training camp. All of the Drill Instructors incessant
rants and insults are a constant combination of religion, sex, and the importance of war.
He is constantly likening the rifles to women, suggesting several times that the boys should
think of their weapons as their sexual partners. Clip-13 shows three of the many sequences
during which religion, sex and the military are interwoven. His songs and jokes are
invariably sexist and racist. He repeatedly puts honor and patriotism on the same level as
Christianity, extolling both and yet creating an eerie link between the two. The marines
become wretched, faceless drones, with the mentalities of sex-offenders to whom we can
no longer apply our own brand of judgment. And yet they are the ones who prosper in the
film. The same issue is repeatedly discussed by Brecht. Both the Cook in Mother Courage
and MacHeath in Threepenny discuss how it seems to be those who constantly violate the
laws of morality and human respect who prosper in the world. It would appear the real
26
world is not governed by these laws, but by a completely separate set of laws. And those
who prosper are not violating the imaginary laws of morality and human respect as much
as they are respecting the real laws, many of which contradict the imagined ones.
To make matters worse, as Kubrick notes, the Drill Instructors lines are based
almost entirely on actor Lee Ermeys actual experiences as a Parris Island drill instructor.
And yet despite the destructive effect these constant associations must have on the minds
of the soldiers, Kubrick reminds us:
Aside from the insults, though, virtually every serious thing he says is
basically true. When he says: A rifle is only a tool, its a hard heart that kills, you know
its true. Unless youre living in a world that doesnt need fighting men, you cant fault
him. Except maybe for a certain lack of subtlety in his behavior. And I dont think the
United States Marine Corps is in the market for subtle drill instructors. (Cahill, p.374)
Once again, one cannot blame the Instructor for acting within the rules of his
world, despite the apparent insanity of his actions. The proof is in the interesting way in
which we come to respect him increasingly as his men become more and more trained and
disciplined. As they begin to respect the rules of the environment, the Instructor becomes
almost a father to them, and when Private Pyle finally shoots him, the act which we were
initially hoping for begins to seem excessive and unnecessary. We immediately see the
futility of taking sides in the film, and this before the war has even begun. Although the
system may seem destructive and abnormal, one cannot reproach its inhabitants for acting
within its rules. When someone attempts, as Pyle does, to apply a foreign logic to this
system, one is forced to concede that he simply should have known better. This is where
Brecht and Kubrick produce identical results in their treatment of war: those who choose
to operate within it, regardless of their intentions, must follow its inhuman rules. Beyond
this, both men seem to find a certain fascination with the implications of war on man, and
particularly the soldier. Kubrick noted during the filming of Paths of Glory:
27
The soldier is absorbing because all the circumstances surrounding him have a
kind of charged hysteria. For all its horror, war is pure drama, probably because it is one
of the few remaining situations where men stand up for what they believe to be their
principles. The criminal and the soldier at least have the virtue of being against
something or for something in a world where many people have learned to accept a kind
of gray nothingness, to strike an unreal series of poses in order to be considered
normal. Its difficult to say who is engaged in the greater conspiracy the criminal,
the soldier, or us. (Kagan, p.47; from Stang, 1958)
In both mens treatment of war, two things are constant. The enemy is never seen,
and the forces of good are without face or individuality. As with Full Metal Jacket,
Mother Courage contains only one actual enemy encounter, resulting in the death of a
single helpless female. The handful of soldiers in Mother Courage are flat emotionless
characters almost indiscernible form one another. Full Metal Jacket begins with a
sequence observing the new recruits having their heads shaved (clip-14), the first step in
the effacing of their individuating characteristics. Indeed, the films two major figures,
Joker and Cowboy, look almost identical to one another. Repetitive camera shots make the
constant effort to give the men as uniform and as mob-like an appearance as possible. And
as with Paths of Glory, the enemy is never seen, with the exception of one female, who
appears in both cases to have been victimized by the entire situation more than any one on
either side.
Brechtian Techniques: Language, Physicality, Narrative and Self Criticism
Physicality and the Grotesque in Dr. Strangelove and A Clockwork Orange.
Brecht and Kubrick seem to use the physical component to their actors
performance for a pair of reasons, first to make certain events seem strange and unnatural,
and second to allow the actors to illustrate their attitude towards their respective
characters. Both Dr. Strangelove and A Clockwork Orange are brilliant examples of
Kubricks Brechtian use of physicality for these express purposes.
28
Walker remarks, in his often-cited Stanley Kubrick Directs:
Physical posture plays an important part in Dr. Strangelove. More than in any
of his other films, Kubrick uses it to split open characters for our inspection. Since the
characters are caricatures though they are never without their human dimension the
way their bodies are used, photographed and edited in the film indicates their incipient
or active insanities. (Walker, p.168)
The examples throughout the film are abundant. Again and again, Kubrick leaves
General Turgidson frozen in some extraordinary posture, usually resembling that of an
ape or jackal, either by having the camera cut away from him in mid-grimace or else by
holding the camera on him while the actor petrifies himself into some sub-human attitude.
Our introduction to Turgidson sees him slapping his hairy belly while standing ape-like
over his mistress. This gives the impression, as Walker suggests, of a gargoyle animated
by its own wound-up dementia, tics, spasms, and reflexes (Walker, p.177). The effect is in
total contrast to the massive, brooding psychosis of General Ripper. He is constantly
photographed from just below his jutting, phallic cigar, suggesting, as Walker notes, a man
totally sunk into his obsessive view of a world which he believes is polluting his bodily
essence. (Walker, p.170) Later, in a perfect example of Brechtian gestus, his crawling on
all fours follows his regression into some twisted form of childhood, as his mind
degenerates to the same level as those juvenile Peace On Earth scrawls on his notepad.
Dr. Strangelove is the ultimate physical depiction of mans merger with technology. His
mechanical movement and uncontrollable limbs deprive him of any human characteristics.
There is a constant literal struggle between the two side of his body, physically connoting
the similar division within the character, a struggle which the machine ultimately wins.
Clip-15 shows the three figures at various such physical moments. In all three cases,
Kubrick adapts his editing and his actors performances to outwardly embody the inner
humors of the characters. The characters truly appear to be telling a story, with their
bodies describing clear attitudes toward themselves and their situation. The constant use
29
of absurd physical gestures by both Turgidson and Dr. Strangelove help produce the
alienation effect described earlier: the situation here, the threat of nuclear annihilation
demands seriousness, but receives comedy instead; and this is one of many such instances
throughout the film. Through the use of physicality in Dr. Strangelove, in a way quite
similar to Brechts own ideas on the topic, Kubrick succeeds in adding another element of
alienation, compelling the audience to think critically about what the situation and
characters are trying to express.
A Clockwork Orange operates in a similar fashion. Physicality, dance, posture are
all used to add an element of absurdity or surrealism to seemingly normal situations and
events. This process is, of course, congruous with both Kubrick and Brechts constant
attempt to shed light on that which has become commonplace. Benedict labels it
ambivalent grotesque realism which she says can also be found in Makavjev, Chaplin,
and Brecht. The function of caricatures and grotesques in satiric works is to elicit creative
laughter and to focus the attention of the audience. It is a means of alienation, as in
Brechts A-effect. It thereby provides a vehicle for unmasking that which is being satirized:
in the case of A Clockwork Orange, the violence in society and the dangers of misusing
science and technology. As she observes, the clownish way in which Alex and his droogs
both dress and carry themselves gives them the same function as the jester-character
Azdak in Brechts Caucasian Chalk Circle, for it is the wise fool who can point out the
foibles of mankind and make him laugh at his folly (Benedict, pp.32-43). During one of
the cinemas most memorable scenes, Alex launches into a Gene Kelly take-off, soft-shoe
shuffling through Singin In The Rain while putting a very unsoft boot into Mr.
Alexander ribs at every cadence (clip-16). Anyone who winces at the supposedly comic
sadism of circus clowns will recognize how, in this scene, Kubrick has turned the
30
frightening realities of domestic invasion, rape, and assault into an experience akin to that
ambivalent form of entertainment. But the violence does not gratify; on the contrary it
repels and alienates. Our emotional gears have to crash through the comic and the
macabre, and we are disoriented still further by the quick cutting, the rubbery antics of the
masquers, and the balletic precision of the most outrageous movements even Alex
unzipping his pants prior to rape, observes Walker, is like a performer taking a bow.
(Walker, p.275) As Mario Falsetto suggests, Alexs actions and speech at this point are
the clearest indication that he views his entire life, especially his acts of violence, as artistic
creation. (Falsetto, p.154) Again, unable to blame him for wanting to express his artistic
drive, we must look elsewhere to assign responsibility for his actions. Falsetto adds,
Although it would be wrong to sympathize with him, the film clearly views him as a
symptom of societys problems, rather than the cause. The character of Mr. Alexander
echoes that of Dr. Strangelove: bound to a wheel chair, filled with anger, and mechanical
and maniacal in his movement. His crippled body shakes with excitement at the possibility
of retribution just as the imminent immolation of mankind arouses Dr. Strangelove. One of
the final sequences of the film shows the Minister spoon-feeding the crippled Alex,
attempting to seduce him over to the governments side. As seen in clip-17, as Alexs
effrontery grows with his intake, his chewing stops as abruptly as one of General
Turgidsons tics, freezing him in mid-grotesquerie; but his mouth keeps jerking open
suddenly like a demanding chick in the nest, insatiable for the supply of worms from the
parent beak. We shall see to everything, a good job on a good salary. What job and
how much? (Walker, p.297) Once again, this is an instance of physicality allowing the
audience to take a step back and fully understand the function of each character within the
31
narrative, as well as forcing the audience to reexamine their definitions of normal and
commonplace.
Language and Self-criticism in 2001: A Space Odyssey, Dr. Strangelove and A

Clockwork Orange.
In very similar ways Brecht and Kubrick use language as a tool of alienation.
Mother Courages bargaining for her sons life (Whatll I do, I cant give them two
hundred, I guess you should have bargained Say a hundred and twenty, or nothing
doing, orders Mother Courage), the jealous fight between Polly and Lucy (A girl like
you could never get a man so true! says Lucy) over the love of MacHeath a convicted
rapist and murderer are only two instances in Brecht where language is used to make
almost commonplace situation seem as horrible as they truly are. Kubrick follows suit in
several of his films. 2001: A Space Odyssey plays a wonderful game with language,
illustrating how mankind has yet to fully understand the implications of existence in space.
It is significant, says Nelson, that the first spoken words in the film reveal that the one tool
that could assist the exploration and expansion of mans inner or outer worlds has not kept
pace with a technological entry into a universe far beyond the boundaries of Earth: The
flight stewardesss Here you are, sir and Floyds See you on the way back illustrate the
kind of time-bound and linear vocabulary repeatedly used by the characters of 2001; they
ignore the fact that in space directional terms like forward and backward or up and
down no longer have the same meaning as they do within Earths gravity, just as
positional definitions of place and time seem primitive in their instance that concepts like
here and there or now and then continue to have a Newtonian authority. (Nelson,
p.109) Dr. Strangelove and A Clockwork Orange also leap to mind, as two deeply
language-based instances of Kubricks films.
32
Language in A Clockwork Orange is used in two interesting ways: One, as a
distancing mechanism between audience and narrator/protagonist, and two, as another
tool to make the normal seem absurd. Alexs use of Nadsat slang in his speech is a perfect
example of Brechtian alienation through language. His dialect in his narration sets him
apart from the audience.
So we came nice and quiet to this domy called the Manse. What was ittying
on was that this starry ptitsa, very gray in the voloss and with a very linky like litso, was
pouring the old moloko from a milk-bottle into saucers and then setting these saucers
down on the floor, so you could tell there were plenty of mewing kots and koshkas
writhing about down there. In the room you could viddy a lot of old pictures on the
walls and starry very elaborate clocks, also some like vases and ornaments that looked
starry and dorogoy.
His speech shows him to be a victim somehow of a culture that has not allowed
him to express himself. Again, his dialect creates a new world with new rules, rules which
allow for his acts of violence to be deemed artistic expression. Like MacHeath in Three
Penny or the Cook in Mother Courage, he asks the audience, on several occasions, to
sympathize with his plight. We cannot truly connect with him though, for his language
places a large barrier between us and him, and at the same time we look at the
environment which has created this anomaly of a character.
The second way in which language operates is in the satirizing of commonplace
events. This is taken to a new level in Dr. Strangelove, but is equally notable here. Alexs
reception at the prison is a perfect example. The sequence is actually the same as that
followed by normal prison routine (Strick and Houston, p.63); but Kubrick, like Brecht, is
able to once again take ordinary, everyday occurrences and turn them into comic satire.
Ordinary routine becomes absurd, from the chief guards insistence that Alex stand in back
of the white line and stretch precipitously towards the counter to place each object in his
pockets on the counter, to the mechanical listing of the contents (One half bar of
chocolate. One bunch of keys on white metal ring. One pocket comb black plastic,
33
etc.), to the anal inspection with the mouth-held flashlight. Language in A Clockwork
Orange becomes transformed. It is now a means for artistic expression, and when it is
used in its usual form, it sounds absurd.
Dr. Strangelove takes this latter use of language as the basis for most of the humor
and impact in the film. In every setting, says Nelson, language breaks down and characters
revert to either antiquated clichs of a primitive value system (Rippers The Redcoats are
coming, Kongs nuculur combat, toe to toe with the Rooskies, and Turgidsons prayer
of deliverance before the Big Board) or the conversation of children (Muffleys baby-talk
with Kissoff and Turgidsons with Miss Scott) (Nelson, p.92). The language used in the
War Room is especially frightening given the realism of what is said. Im not saying we
wouldnt get our hair mussed, says Turgidson. I am saying only ten to twenty million
people killed, tops, depending on the breaks. The speech, says Kubrick, is almost a prcis
of what has been published in military journals, even to euphemisms, not unlike hair
mussing, for human casualties. It would be difficult and dramatically redundant, Kubrick
observes, to try to top the statistical and linguistic inhumanity of nuclear strategists.
(Walker, p.185) The B-52 crews survival kit is another fine example of the reality of
words lending to shock. President Muffleys talk with the Russian Prime Minister is
completely absurd, yet strikingly realistic:
Hello Eh, hello, Dimitri. Listen, I I cant hear to well; do you suppose you
could turn the music down just a little. Ah, ah, thats much better Yes, huh, yes. Fine,
I can hear you now, Dimitri, clear and plain and coming through fine Im coming
through fine too, aye? Good, then, well, then as you say, were both coming trough fine.
Good. Well its good that youre fine and, and Im fine. I agree with you, its great to
be fine Now then, Dimitri, you know how weve always talked about the possibility of
something going wrong with the bomb The BOMB, Dimitri. The hydrogen bomb
The passage bears the same absurdity as Mother Courages bargaining for her sons
life. As Major Kong prepares his men for their mission, he tells them:
34
I reckon you wouldnt even be human beings if you didnt have some pretty
strong personal feelings about nuculur combat. If this thing turns out to be half as
important as I figure it just might be, Id say that youre all in line for some important
promotions and personal citations when this things over with. And that goes for every
last one of you, regardless of your race, color and your creed.
As Kolker points out, both image and words clash with the seriousness of purpose
expected form the situation: a bomber about to start Armageddon. The words in particular
reduce meaning to a level of banality and clich. As Roland Barthes said of the works of
Sade, he juxtaposes heterogeneous fragments belonging to spheres of language that are
ordinarily kept separate by socio-moral taboo. Kubricks characters here do exactly the
same thing. Kolker notes:
When this drawling cowboy begins speaking, one does not wish to hear
grammar-school commonplaces and locker-room psychologisms. When this is precisely
what is heard, it is very funny because of the surprise, and very frightening because of
the gap between the utterance and the context, which demands other language. The
language circles upon itself, it has no subject or object, no detachable meaning. The
meaning is the utterance itself and its own perfectly logical irrelevance and banality. Of
course human beings have strong personal feelings about nuculur combat. Does
the topic arouse impersonal feelings in something other than human beings? (Kolker,
pp.104-8)
The simultaneous logic and absurdity in language finds another home with General
Ripper. His great speech, as Kolker points out, is a concentrated collapse from the
somewhat standard clichs of reactionary discourse into the crazed, subjective discourse
of someone who is creating his own meanings. Mandrake, he asks his barely
comprehending aide, do you recall what Clemenceau once said about war?
He said war was too important to be left to the generals But today war is too
important to be left to the politicians. They have neither the time, the training, nor the
inclination for strategic thought. I can no longer sit back and allow communist
infiltration, communist indoctrination, communist subversion and the International
Communist Conspiracy to sap and impurify all our precious bodily fluids.
There is a perfectly logical movement to these words, says Kolker, just as there is
perfectly logical movement to the mechanism of defense and retaliation that makes up the
war machine. (Kolker, pp. 104-8) Coupled with the para-logical progression of events in
Dr. Strangelove, this use of language completes the creation of a new logic which
35
permeates the world of the film, a logic which turns everyday language into total
absurdity, and exposes the inability of our own sense of logic to cope with events that
diverge from our expectations.
Character and Narrative: Violating Cultural Expectations
Another interesting way in which Kubrick succeeds in alienating his audience from
characters or events in his films is through the violating of cultural expectations. Much like
realist and romantic plays have done, mainstream cinema has created in the minds of most
North American viewers a set of cultural expectations with regards to characters and
events in the telling of a story. It is only when characters fail to act in a predetermined way
that we actually stop to think about their actions. Kubrick violates our expectations both
in the building of his characters, as well as in the shape his narratives take. An interesting
example which illustrates both instances is Barry Lyndon.
Violating Form and Content in Barry Lyndon.
As George H. Lewis observes, the interface between the cultural and social
structures of American society is Kubricks focal point in Barry Lyndon. Kubrick has
deliberately chosen the vehicle of the commonplace popular culture for this film. The
plot is simplistic and the characters are one-dimensional precisely because Barry Lyndon is
an exploration of the power of popular art and culture in a social system (Lewis, p.111).
As illustrated by the two brief shots in clip-18, every scene in the three-and-a-half hour
epic film resembles a European painting from the 1700s or 1800s. Since such paintings are
considered art in the North American popular mind, and since art is serious and important,
so should Barry Lyndon be considered. The problem, as Lewis notes, comes when the
36
story line and character development are seen as crude and simplistic. This incongruity, he
says, has left many viewers and critics uneasy. They have not yet seen what many social
historians have noticed the tendency for any cultural object, no matter how poorly done,
to be accepted by Americans as serious and valid if it is European and over a hundred
years old (Lewis, p.112). Kubrick is suggesting that the form of a cultural object can and
does validate its content, and that this validation has serious consequences for society. The
contradiction in Barry Lyndon between form and content makes the audience uneasy, as
they are forced to examine the reasons behind this alienating effect.
The second way in which cultural expectations are foiled in the film is through the
character of Barry. Along with the expectations aroused from a period style of film come
anticipations with regard to the characters. As in the shots of clip-19, Barry is frequently
depicted in a frozen gesture with a blank facial expression. Though the music, clothes, and
surroundings connote a certain genre of dramatic figure, the expression on his face
connotes his inability to play the part. He is essentially a prisoner, both of the frame and
of his society. The two-dimensional, lifeless, orderly individual he becomes is largely the
result of his presentation. He often looks directly ahead but not at anyone. He speaks but
not to anyone; and when he does speak it is in an unthinking manner, as if he were a
machine. He is constantly forced into roles that he is unable to play. At various points in
the narrative, as Falsetto points out, Barry pretends to be an English officer, a Prussian
spy, a valet and his own gambling partner, the chevalier. This is the more obvious sort of
role-playing in the film. Less obvious are the roles which society forces on Barry. He
eventually plays the role of husband, lover, father, and an English gentleman, the role he
aspires to most. There is little difference between these two types of role-playing, for both,
as Falsetto observes, gradually divest Barry of his identity and innocence (Falsetto, p.158-
37
9). Like Mother Courage or the Fat Prince, Barry foolishly believes that he must direct all
his energies and considerable wealth to the pursuit of a peerage. It does not occur to him
that there could be something other than wealth, position, and the pursuit of pleasure in
life. But then, Barry can only reflect the values of the society that has created him. It
seems only fitting that when he ceases to be Redmond Barry and becomes Barry Lyndon,
he abandons his real self and becomes an artificial creation of a decadent society. His
failure to do more than play the roles he is assigned is yet another Brechtian instance of
showing us the absurdity of our cultural and social expectations, expectations generated
by popular cultural staples, such as the European period film.
Private Joker and Colonel Dax: Kubricks Galileos in Paths of Glory

and Full Metal Jacket.
A common feature to both Brechts plays and Kubricks films about war is the lack
of heroes or rebels. Contrary to the vast majority of realist film and cinema, the principal
characters in all of both artists works are not meant to elicit our sympathy, respect, or
admiration. In Brechts Life of Galileo, Galileo fails to win our affection in every possible
way: he is impolite, condescending, and continuously bends to the pressure exerted on him
from above. Despite the nobility we want to associate with the great scientist based on his
historic accomplishments, we are never permitted to feel anything for him besides
indifference, or even disappointment. Both Private Joker and Colonel Dax meet this
description exactly.
To begin, both men are soldiers, and honorable ones, if that in itself is not already a
contradiction in terms. Dax seems truly to care for his men, especially as compared to any
of the other higher-ranked officers. He defends his three soldiers innocence at the trial and
does his best to expose General Mireau for the madman that he is. Yet what is the result?
38
He still sends his troops to be slaughtered, his attempts to defend the three soldiers are
completely fruitless and doomed to fail from the outset (the trial is designed so that the
men will be sentenced to death), and though Mireau is exposed, Broulard reminds us that
the military is built on madmen. At every step, Dax is shown to be helpless, alone, and
completely powerless, as every attempt to act outside the rules of his environment leaves
him scarred and impotent. In his final moment of powerlessness during his final exchange
with Broulard, he is reduced to name-calling, calling him a degenerate, sadistic old man.
Here, says Kolker, Kubrick is playing as cruel a game with viewer expectations as the
generals play with their troops in the fiction. Through the film, every expectation holds
that Dax will get the men off; conventional narrative patterns have coded this situation
with certainty. Here, though, the codes do not work (Kolker, p.94) Like Galileo, Daxs
final realization is that if he wishes to exist in this particular world, he must adopt all of its
conventions. There is an absurdity in Kubricks hero here: trying to stay within the limits
of the military system, Dax winds up arguing the defense of his men against the judge who
arranged the trial so they would be put to death. It would be difficult to cite a more absurd
filmic hero. To further make Dax seem absurd for having attempted to defend his men, the
trial is swift and a complete formality. An abundance of moral and logical reasoning is
completely disregarded in a ridiculous instance of contempt for human life and rights. As
Galileos final submission to the limits of his world forces the audience to reexamine this
world for answers, Daxs failure compels the viewer to look at what the war truly means
to a government, and see the obvious absurdity of the term war-hero.
Private Joker in Full Metal Jacket bears a striking resemblance to Dax in several of
the ways described above. Every incidence of rebellion or demonstration of morality on his
part are made either ironic or absurd. The opening head-shaving sequence is only the first
39
indication of the futility of attempting to distinguish oneself in a world centered around
removing individual traits. His quasi-humanist attitude, symbolized by the peace sign he
wears on his uniform, seems out of place given the born to kill motto on his helmet. He
seems to take a liking to Private Pyle, but is the most brutal and merciless of the group
when the boys take turns giving him his punishment. And despite his apparent
understanding of the lies he is propagating as a journalist, he continues to write for Stars
and Stripes. Much as Brecht focuses on Galileos lack of resistance, Kubrick mourns the
doom that follows upon the absence of attempts by Joker to overcome the inhumanity of
his world. There is no revolutionary spirit nor even a simple Fordian spirit of communal
energy or sacrifice for the greater vitality of the community. Joker, like Galileo, joins the
body of Kubrick and Brechts characters who merely dwindle or die, isolated and trapped.
Though he teases us, throughout the film, with sparks of rebellion and contempt toward
the military, Joker faithfully follows every rule (he is by far the most successful at the
camp), and though he is quick to point out the faults of this system, he nevertheless
surrenders to it. The final scene (clip-20), in dark silhouette leaving the men faceless and
identical, shows Joker as another assimilated piece of the rebel-less, hero-less, mass of
killers. He admits to his surrender, and he neither tries to explain or generate sympathy.
He, like Galileo, is merely a pointer to a man-made world which fundamentally denies
human freedom.
Breaking the Laws of Story-Telling: Narrative in Dr. Strangelove.
Dr. Strangelove is by far the most successful of Kubricks films with regard to its
ability to make the commonplace seem absurd, perhaps Brechts chief concern. The humor
40
relies almost as much upon the use of narrative and visual contexts as it does language,
contexts that, according to Kubrick, place everyday human behavior within nightmarish
situations like, as Joseph Gelmis points out:
the Russian premier on the hot line who forgets the telephone number of the
general staff headquarters and suggests the American President try Omsk information,
or the reluctance of a U.S. officer to let a British officer smash open a Coca-Cola
machine for change to phone the President about a crisis on the SAC base because of his
conditioning about the sanctity of private property (Gelmis, p.309)
The scene during which Turgidson receives news of the imminent bombing while in
the bathroom is equally satirical in its absurd realism. Kubrick has said,
Confront a man in his office with a nuclear alarm, and you have a
documentary. If the news reaches him in his living room, you have a drama. If it catches
him in the lavatory, the result is comedy. (Walker, pp.176-7)
This is exactly where General Turgidson happens to be when the message comes
through to him human necessity interrupted by human destiny. As were so many of
Brechts plays, Dr. Strangelove was undertaken with the conscious aim of sounding an
alert that would startle people into response and even resistance the fate it describes.
The sexual connotations in Dr. Strangelove, or more precisely the sexual progress
of the film from foreplay to explosion, to quote Anthony Macklin, work wonders in the
suggesting of a regression of humanity to a more primal and instinct-driven state. As
Nelson remarks, the examples are numerous. General Jack D. Ripper is named after
historys most notorious sex offender. He disguises his inability to perform sexually by
raving about fluoridation. He launches a phallic retaliation in the shapes of missiles, a
jutting cigar which, before his death, has burned down to a stub and the machine-gun
he fires at his own countrymen. Major Kong is introduced reading Playboy which happens
to feature Miss Scott as Playmate of the Month, in a pose identical to the one she assumes
in Bucks hotel suite. The bombing target is Laputa (the whore), and the phallic bombs
sport the salutations Hi There and Dear John. General Buck Turgidson, whose name
41
decodes as swollen male animal who is the son of a swollen male animal, tells his
playmate to start her countdown and be ready to blast-off when he returns. President
Merkin Muffley, whose name need not be expanded on, is prissy and effeminate, and his
bald head makes it look like a phallus. And in the end, Dr. Strangelove becomes both
sexually erect and child-like as he learns to walk in preparation for a descent into the
mineshafts (Nelson, pp.89-92). The constant sexual suggestions behind every action and
event in the film (right down to the way in which the narrative itself progresses in a
foreplay-to-climax fashion) illustrates, as Brecht often tries to suggest, the way in which
the realist style has undermined natural, human elements, such as sexual desire. Another
means for alienating us from the events and characters, the constant use of sexual
suggestion at inappropriate moments, forces us to reexamine what kind of system would
render the most natural of human instincts absurd.
The notion of heroes and rebels is raised again in Dr. Strangelove. As John Simon
points out, the film contains no rebel character who might be explained away.
There are no rebels, only heroes; heroes of politics, warfare, science, all of
them so repellent or, at best, nondescript, that the only rebels must be in the audience
amused, revolted, and ready to revolt. (Simon, p. 18)
But in addition to this, Dr. Strangelove is marked by the wonderful Brechtian lack
of anyone to blame. As Norman Kagan points out:
The setting up of the purgation is subtly handled. The factors and

situations are so complex and interwoven that any movie-moralizing or blame-fixing
becomes impossible. Ripper, who initiates the attack, is psychotic, so social conventions
cant apply. The Attack Plan R he abuses was approved by the President, Turgidson, and
the whole government, distributing the guilt. The Doomsday Machine was built because
the Soviets couldnt keep up with the arms race, decided to be efficient, and saw a hint
that the Americans were building one of their own in The New York Times. All that
matters then is the growing, terrifying probability of destruction, as Mandrake and
Muffley shout and argue and plead into telephones, and King Kong plunges onward,
unstoppable (Kagan, 134-5)
Once again, the enemy is an invisible one, and everyone who tries to rise to the
occasion and help either leads mankind straight into oblivion, or is completely ineffectual.
42
The obstacles invariably come in the form of commonplace or supposedly normal human
elements. U.S. troops, believing they are repelling clever Russians, try to hold off the other
band of U.S. soldiers trying to penetrate Burpleson Air Base. The scenes are shot with a
hand-held, newsreel camera, giving the battle a documentary-like feeling, chilling given the
nature of the adversaries. It is another U.S. officer, Colonel Bat Guano, who stands in
the way of Mandrakes notifying the President of the crisis, mistaking Mandrake for some
kind of deviated prevert rather than a man trying to save the world. But most ironically,
its the B-52 crews by-the-book following of orders and protocol that ultimately dooms
the future of humanity. Here is another quintessentially Brechtian example of man being
his own worse enemy, with his ability and inclination to construct worlds that will
ultimately destroy him.
Conclusions
But Is It Brechtian? Criticism and a New Aesthetic for a Changing World.
In an interview in 1960, during the run of Killers Kiss, Stanley Kubrick told the
London Observer:
I havent come across any recent new ideas in films that strike me as being
particularly important and that have to do with form. I think that a preoccupation with
originality of form is more or less a fruitless thing. A truly original person with a truly
original mind will not be able to function in the old form and will simply do something
different. Others had much better think of the form as being some sort of classical
tradition and try to work within it. (Kubrick, 1960)
Kubricks ideas thrive from within the cinematic genre. The effect of his work
hinges on its place within the world of the cinema. The effects of his films are inexorably
linked to their constant, subtle deviation from the mainstream, and their ability to make the
realities of the medium seem amazing and absurd. His deviation in style has pushed Kolker
to attribute Kubricks success to his divorce from the form and content of commercial
43
American cinema. Of all American filmmakers, says Kolker, Kubrick works in the most
non-American fashion. He has eschewed American production methods; and he has in fact
eschewed America. (Kolker, p.78) As Kubrick told the Observer, he began with
revolutionary ideas, ideas about the effects he wished to generate with his films, and the
films themselves simply became different. Brechts theatre evolved in an identical way.
The conventions of the realist theatre hindered his attempts to alienate the audience and
incite them into thought. The visible lighting sources, projected signs, and uneven chairs of
Brechtian theatre evolved from the mainstream out of necessity. Kubricks films have
enjoyed the same evolution, and the new cinematic devices that evolve here all bear a
striking resemblance to the bold vision of his predecessor.
Kolker says:
Kubrick perceives individuals and groups assuming a helpless and inferior

position with respect to an order they themselves have created. They undo their own
subjectivity. But Kubrick does not go beyond anti-humanism to embrace another social
or philosophical order, for he does not see the possibility of men or women regaining
control over their selves and their culture. He sees rather a dwindling of humanity and
its destruction, apocalyptically in Dr. Strangelove, through a transformation at the mercy
of other-worldly intelligences in 2001 , through the destructiveness of domestic politics
in Barry Lyndon and The Shinning, through the utter defeat offered by war in Full Metal
Jacket. (Kolker, p.87)
When you look at Mother Courage you cannot help but see the connection.
Several critics have attacked the inevitably heart-wrenching ending of the play as a failure
in alienation, due to the impossibility of withholding sympathy for poor Mother Courage.
She is, after all, only a victim of the world that governs her. Perhaps the ending is Brechts
way of pointing out the same dwindling of humanity and its destruction, this time due to
humanitys need for emotion. The emotion, however, seems small when it occurs within
the larger context of the war as a phenomenon itself. The constant use of sexual
44
connotations in Dr. Strangelove works in a similar fashion, commenting on mankinds
inextricable link to primal instincts.
The essential element to bear in mind throughout this analysis is the weight being
placed on the effects Brecht sought to produce with his epic plays. The details of Brechts
political ideologies, or even the details of his plays are not as important as the specific
reactions he meant them to elicit (though similarities to Kubricks films are numerous).
Instead of creating personal and difficult works, of the kind European filmmakers are
supposed to make, Kubrick seemed destined to be recognized as a great popularizer.
(Taylor, p.132) This examination has taken us through the effects of Kubricks constant
revolutionary use of Brechtian techniques and ideas, in a medium designed to reach those
masses of people most desperately in need of their effect. We can conclude that Kubrick
has generated a new Brechtian film aesthetic, evolved to todays media-based, North
American culture a culture which has become even more entrapped in its own self-
created devices, and has succeeded in convincing everyone that everything is normal.
One final interesting point: Kubricks films do not offer solutions. And is this the
reason, in Kolkers opinion, that Kubricks work cannot comfortably be labeled as
Brechtian. Brechts design was, indeed, as a tool to instigate thought and change. But
Brecht began his campaign for change before the world had fully suffered the effects of
Hollywood, technology and mass media. When Kubrick examines our system today and
resigns himself to not offering solutions in his films, perhaps he is commenting on how far
weve sunk, and on the ultimate Brechtian futility of attempting to change a world that
man has designed to prevent human involvement. I think the Marxist would have been
proud.
45
VIDEO CLIPS
1. A Clockwork Orange; gang fight in theatre

2. Paths of Glory; Chateau, Generals plotting
3. Paths of Glory; Mireau in trenches
4. Paths of Glory; Dax in trenches
5. Dr. Strangelove; Rippers office
6. Dr. Strangelove; War Room
7. Dr. Strangelove; Receipt of Plan R
8. Dr. Strangelove; B-52 escapes on-coming missile
9. 2001: A Space Odyssey; Opening, the Earth and the ape-men
10. 2001: A Space Odyssey; Waltz of the Blue Danube
11. 2001: A Space Odyssey; HAL reads pilots lips
12. 2001: A Space Odyssey; Bowman terminates HAL
13. Full Metal Jacket; Scenes combining sex, religion, and the Marines
46
14. Full Metal Jacket; Opening head-shaving

15. Dr. Strangelove; Physicality of Turgidson, Ripper, and Strangelove
16. A Clockwork Orange; Singing in the Rain
17. A Clockwork Orange; Minister spoon feeds Alex
18. Barry Lyndon; Tableaus
19. Barry Lyndon; Barry frozen in frames
20. Full Metal Jacket; Final scene, the march
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Benedict, Joan Ada; Stanley Kubricks A Clockwork Orange: the ambivalence of violence;
Montreal: McGill UP, 1978.
Brecht, Bertolt; Brecht on Theatre; ed. and trans. John Willett; London: Methuen, 1964.
Brecht, Bertolt; The Life of Galileo; London: Methuen, 1955.
Brecht, Bertolt; Mother Courage; from The HBJ Anthology of Drama; Orlando: Harcourt
Brace Jovanovich, 1993.
Brecht in Perspective; ed. Graham Bartram and Anthony Waine; London: Longman, 1982.
Breskin, David; Inner Views: filmmakers in conversation; Boston: Faber and Faber, 1992.
Cahill, Tim. Stanley Kubrick; The Rolling Stone Reader: the best film writing from
Rolling Stone magazine; ed. Peter Travers; New York: Pocket Books, 1996
Chion, Michel; David Lynch; London: BFI pub., 1995.
Dukore, Bernard F; Money and Politics in Ibsen, Shaw, and Brecht; Columbia & London:
University of Missouri Press, 1980.
Esslin, Martin; Bertolt Brecht; New York: Columbia University Press, 1969.
47
Esslin, Martin; Brecht: The Man And His Work; New York: Anchor Books, 1971.
Falsetto, Mario; Stanley Kubrick: a narrative and stylistic analysis; Wesport: Praeger,
1994.
Ferraro, Carl David; Toward a Brechtian Film Aesthetic with an investigation into the
films of Lindsay Anderson, Rainer Werner Fassbinder and Luis Bunuel; Ann Arbour:
UMI Research Press, 1988.
Gelmis, Joseph. The Film Director as Superstar; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970, pp.
293-315.
Kagan, Norman; The Cinema Of Stanley Kubrick; New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston,
1972.
Kaleta, Kenneth C; David Lynch; New York: Twayne Publishers, 1992.
Kolker, Robert Phillip; A Cinema of Loneliness: Penn, Kubrick, Scorsese; New York:
Oxford University Press, 1988.
Kubrick, Stanley. Interview in The Observer (London): December 4, 1960.
Lambert, Gavin; Paths of Glory Reviewed; Sight and Sound; London: Winter, 1957-58,
p.144
Lee, Spike; Spike Lees Gotta Have It: inside guerrilla filmmaking; New York: Simon and
Schuster, 1987.
Lellis, George; Bertolt Brecht Cahiers Du Cinema and Contemporary Film Theory; Ann
Arbour: UMI Research Press, 1982.
Lewis, George H.; Culture, Kubrick, and Barry Lyndon; from Film in Society; ed.
Arthur Asa Berger; pp. 109-114; New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Books, 1980.
LoBrutto, Vincent; Stanley Kubrick: a biography; New York: D.I. Fine Books, 1997
Macklin, Anthony. Sex and Dr. Strangelove, Film Comment; summer 1965: 55-57.
Mediated Messages and African-American Culture: contemporary issues; ed. Venise T.

Berry, Carmen L. Manning-Miller; Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage Publications, 1996.
Mitter, Shomit. Systems of Rehearsal Stanislavsky, Brecht, Grotowski, and Brook;

London: Routledge, 1992.
Mueller, Roswitha; Bertolt Brecht and the theory of Media; Lincoln: University of
Nebraska Press, 1989.
48
Phillips, Gene D. Stanley Kubrick: A Film Odyssey; New York: Popular Library, 1975.
Polan, Dana B; The Political Language of Film and the Avant-Garde; Ann Arbour: UMI
Research Press, 1981.
Real, Michael R; Exploring Media Culture: a guide; Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage
Publications, 1996.
Rhines, Jesse Algernon; Black Film, White Money; New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers Univ.
Press, 1996.
Simon, John. Private Screenings; New York: Macmillan, 1967.
Stang, Jonathan; Film Fan to Film Maker; The New York Times Magazine; New York:
October 12, 1958.
Strick, Philip, and Penelope Houston. Interview With Stanley Kubrick; Sight and Sound;
Spring 1972: 62-66.
Taylor, John Russell; Directors and Directions: Cinema for the Seventies; New York: Hill
and Wang, 1975.
Walker, Alexander; Stanley Kubrick Directs; New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovitch,
1972.
Walsh, Martin; The Brechtian aspect of Radical Cinema; London: BFI publishing, 1981.
Wiles, Timothy J; The Theatre Event: modern theories of performance; Chicago:

University of Chicago Press, 1980.
Willett, John; Brecht in Context: Comparative Approaches; London: Methuen, 1984.
Wright, Elizabeth; Postmodern Brecht: a representation; London: Routledge, 1989.
Re-interpreting Brecht: his influence on contemporary drama and film; ed. Pia Kleber and
Colin Visser; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990.
49
FILMOGRAPHY
2001: A Space Odyssey; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Keir Dullea, Gary Lockwood, Douglas
Rain; New York: MGM, 1968.
A Clockwork Orange; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Malcolm McDowell, Patrick Magee,
Michael Bates, Anthony Sharp; New York: Warner, 1971.
Barry Lyndon; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Ryan ONeal, Marisa Berenson, Oscar Werner;
New York: Warner, 1975.
Doctor Strangelove, Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love The Bomb; dir.
Stanley Kubrick; with Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Sterling Hayden, Keenan
Wynn, and Slim Pickens; New York: Columbia, 1963.
Full Metal Jacket; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Matthew Modine, Lee Ermey, Vincent
DOnofrio, Adam Baldwin; New York: Warner, 1987.
The Killers Kiss; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Frank Silvera, Jaime Smith, Irene Kane; UA:
1955.
The Killing; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Sterling Hayden, Marie Windsor, Elisha Cook;
United Artists, 1956.
Lolita; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with James Mason, Shelly Winters, Sue Lyon, and Peter
Sellers; New York: MGM, 1961.
Paths of Glory; dir. Stanley Kubrick; with Kirk Douglas, Adolphe Menjou, George
Macready; UA: 1957.
50

Brecht in Film - Thesis

Caricato da

Informazioni sul documento

Titolo originale

Copyright

Formati disponibili

Condividi questo documento

Condividi o incorpora il documento

Opzioni di condivisione

Hai trovato utile questo documento?

Questo contenuto è inappropriato?

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

Brecht in Film - Thesis

Caricato da

Copyright:

Formati disponibili

HONORS - ENGLISH UNDERGRADUATE THESIS

Advised by Prof. Myrna W. Selkirk

BRECHT and CONTEMPORARY FILM:

April 16, 1998

massive body of Brecht-related writing, it is not surprising that at a colloquium held in

specific historical references, rendered his plays inflexible to the adaptations,

interpretations, or modernizations which they evidently considered necessary in

Brecht and Film: The Birth of a New Aesthetic.

The Mother, Gerhard Eisler recalls:

readily apparent at the core of several filmmakers agendas.

result of the Threepenny film.

Revolution From Within: Using Film to Examine the World

Brecht, Kubrick, Alienation, and Contemporary Film.

find new stories but new ways of telling them.

Pabsts failure to escape this same sentimentality in his attempt to transfer

Depictions of sex, family, and violence in A Clockwork Orange.

is to be made aware from something ordinary, familiar, immediately accessible into

American movie theaters, was no longer something to be laughed at or shied-away from.

It became something to examine, study and criticize.

angles, costuming and choreography. In clip-1, a rape and inter-gang skirmish is

transformed by a picturesque setting, and inappropriate soundtrack and choreography.

characterizes Brechts idea of alienation as a distancing device which makes it possible to

experience socially-conditioned phenomena (everyday situations, emotions and

problems) in an objectively comprehensible manner, normally impossible because

A representation that alienates is one which allows us to recognize its subject,

consider the violence in Clockwork Orange to be objectionable in the sense of being

of violence as entertainment, and of political corruption as inescapable.

Epic Characters in Epic Conditions:

The Function of Characters and Settings in Kubrick.

The starting point of Brechtian alienation is invariably nested in the characters of

or her own character. He says in a description of his Epic theatre:

abnormality of a world many of us have begun to assume is unchangeable. British film

Kubricks is a cinema of habitations and rituals, of overwhelming spaces and intricate

The shaping of the characters by their environment begins with Kubricks

about the environment which has doomed them.

Characters Determined by Space in Paths of Glory.

A perfect example of creating character from environment is Paths of Glory, more

accouterments, is itself an image of elegance and rigid formal structures. By emphasizing

characters change from space to space.

Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb.

Space, Communication and Character in Dr. Strangelove.

President Muffleys attempt at conversation with the Russian Prime Minister or

a compounded isolation of three very different spaces outside of which, it is suggested,

there is nothing else.

in space, and a sign reading Peace is our Profession.

mistress because, as he says, My president needs me now The president himself

we turn rather to the environment they have created.

The Descent of Man: War, Religion, and Technology in Kubrick

Several of Kubricks films discuss mans relationship to technology and the

A self-created tool which continues to victimize mankind, technology is another

Possibly the most extensively discussed idea in Dr. Strangelove is Mans

relationship to technology, or more specifically, mankinds subjugation to the machine.

to an audience of today. On board the B-52, it becomes hard to distinguish what is

Bomb fusing master safeties on: electronic, barometric, time, impact.

eighteenth-century neoclassicism in Paths of Glory: It provides both a context for

is based on a principal of mechanical predictability that must, if it is to have purpose,

he slowly and mercilessly shuts HAL down:

time in the film:

singsong: Good afternoon, Gentlemen. I am HAL-9000 computer. Mr. Langley taught

they can make, of course, are human ones.

them, he is destined to fail.

of the soldiers, Kubrick reminds us:

Brechtian Techniques: Language, Physicality, Narrative and Self Criticism