I've always thought of myself as something of a fan of the films of Stanley Kubrick. The only one that disappointed me on the big screen was The Shining, but watching it again recently has made me revise my opinion. I was too much of a fan of King's novel to surrender myself to Kubrick's radical take on the story back in the day, but distance has leant much enchantment, as I found when watching the movie on the Netflix small screen recently. Oh, and I also greatly enjoyed Full Metal Jacket which I've always thought of as an under-appreciated work.
So I thought I was going to be blown out of my seat viewing A Clockwork Orange again (on Netflix) having last seen on the big screen before Kubrick withdrew it from circulation in 1971. After all, I'd found it viscerally exciting as a teenager in a number of ways, a bit disturbingly so, to be honest. And here's the odd thing: watching again in 2020 I found it dated and draggy beyond belief. I thought it would at least look good, but found it visually overblown - almost pantomimic. And that's the word I would apply to the acting. Other than the brilliant Malcolm McDowell, everyone else seems to be mugging in that strange style adopted for English sit-coms of the 60s/70s. I suppose this is where the 'dark humour' critics refer to is supposed to lie, but this time it just didn't work for me.
Though Wendy Carlos's brilliant synthesiser pieces remain exempt from criticism.
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