I did and I lost two and a half hours of my life that I can never regain again.
I honestly have no idea what the critics and fans see in this movie. And that's not because I can't appreciate "art". I love a good film with profound messages, brilliant cinematography, and great directing.
This film just isn't one of them.
My main complaint about this film is that it's so horribly slow-paced, to the point of boring its audience to death. On the other hand, sequences of dialog go by too quickly and there's not enough exposition to let people who haven't read the book know what's going on (My mother had mercy on me and explained everything before I watched it). Would it have killed them to hire a narrator? At least for the beginning and the end?
Let me break it down for you: (Spoilers throughout)
For the first two minutes you are treated to a black screen with no music, waiting for the actual movie to begin.
For the following minute and a half, you see several pictures of sunrises and savanna landscapes. Like the audience couldn't figure out how to set the scene unless they saw the establishing shot three or four times.
The next eleven minutes are occupied with the grunting monkeys. They fight, see the monolith, fight some more, pommel things with a bone. Supposedly they are prehistoric men whose evolution is being influenced by the monolith's singing. Not that you could tell if you hadn't read the book.
*Finally* we get into space. Only to be subjected to twelve minutes of ships slowly spinning to the Blue Danube Waltz (A pretty quick-tempo-ed waltz as I understand, yet here it feels absolutely agonizing). At last we get some innocuous dialog and rather cryptic exposition about the government not letting people land on the moon. We are left to wonder about this for fourteen more minutes of Blue Danube and spinning ships and neat camera tricks with anti-gravity.
Next comes four minutes of watching a ship travel over the surface of the moon and dock at a space station. We get a little more exposition in a board room scene that follows. Then we're back outside traveling at a snail's pace over the moon. A second monolith is revealed, again filling our ears with that horrible ringing (I had no idea that was an actual piece of music!). The monolith does its little light show and then the plot jumps forward.
*Seven* minutes of watching the ship to Jupiter travel. By this point in time my brains had turned into mush. Could it be moving any slower? Maybe it's "realistic" to portray it as such, but we still don't need to see five or six different shots of the same thing to grasp the concept of its "realism". Let me tell you about this "realism" thing; I cheered when the secondary astronaut character died. Not because I'm a sadist and like watching people die, but because after five minutes I was just so annoyed at the sound of his darn breathing! I'm supposed to care about this character, feel when he dies! Instead I found myself waiting for blissful silence whatever way it came.
Anyway, now we get to the most interesting part of the film-the part with HAL. Forget Dave the stick-of-wood protagonist. The real star of the show is that coldly impersonal, chillingly villainous, ruthlessly merciless bad guy of a computer. He's great. And the "Open the pod bay doors" sequence is wonderful. But it's too short. And it's not long before the director once again lapses into too-long goings on.
Four minutes for HAL to die. And die he does. Slowly, painfully, losing intelligence with every minute, voice getting lower and slower, singing "Daisy, Daisy", all with a low and constant hissing that becomes just as annoying as the heavy breathing.
Seven minutes of flying colors as Dave enters the monolith. Seven. I could FEEL my brains melting and dripping out of my ears! Seven full minutes of absolutely nothing but some guy's whacked out psychedelic version of space travel, again with that thrice-cursed chorus! We got the idea at the beginning of the sequence! Why drag it out so long? Unless he wanted to make LSD users go psychotic and have flashbacks.
I'm not even going to try to explain the ending, mostly because I don't quite get it myself. Supposedly he's in an alien research laboratory and they're teaching him deep and profound things while he watches himself getting older and older and then they send him back to earth as some kind of cosmic celestial space baby. None of this comes across in the film. For all you know, it's just a sequence of images with no purpose or plot whatsoever. A lot of the movie felt that way.
The first time I tried watching this movie I gave up halfway through. The second time I suffered through this sore excuse for a film, it was to help my sister time the sequences to see how long they lasted. It's that boring.
Call this crummy film "art" if you wish. I wouldn't. I've seen more interesting "art" in the local museum. And I am never subjecting myself to this kind of suffering ever again.
I honestly have no idea what the critics and fans see in this movie. And that's not because I can't appreciate "art". I love a good film with profound messages, brilliant cinematography, and great directing.
This film just isn't one of them.
My main complaint about this film is that it's so horribly slow-paced, to the point of boring its audience to death. On the other hand, sequences of dialog go by too quickly and there's not enough exposition to let people who haven't read the book know what's going on (My mother had mercy on me and explained everything before I watched it). Would it have killed them to hire a narrator? At least for the beginning and the end?
Let me break it down for you: (Spoilers throughout)
For the first two minutes you are treated to a black screen with no music, waiting for the actual movie to begin.
For the following minute and a half, you see several pictures of sunrises and savanna landscapes. Like the audience couldn't figure out how to set the scene unless they saw the establishing shot three or four times.
The next eleven minutes are occupied with the grunting monkeys. They fight, see the monolith, fight some more, pommel things with a bone. Supposedly they are prehistoric men whose evolution is being influenced by the monolith's singing. Not that you could tell if you hadn't read the book.
*Finally* we get into space. Only to be subjected to twelve minutes of ships slowly spinning to the Blue Danube Waltz (A pretty quick-tempo-ed waltz as I understand, yet here it feels absolutely agonizing). At last we get some innocuous dialog and rather cryptic exposition about the government not letting people land on the moon. We are left to wonder about this for fourteen more minutes of Blue Danube and spinning ships and neat camera tricks with anti-gravity.
Next comes four minutes of watching a ship travel over the surface of the moon and dock at a space station. We get a little more exposition in a board room scene that follows. Then we're back outside traveling at a snail's pace over the moon. A second monolith is revealed, again filling our ears with that horrible ringing (I had no idea that was an actual piece of music!). The monolith does its little light show and then the plot jumps forward.
*Seven* minutes of watching the ship to Jupiter travel. By this point in time my brains had turned into mush. Could it be moving any slower? Maybe it's "realistic" to portray it as such, but we still don't need to see five or six different shots of the same thing to grasp the concept of its "realism". Let me tell you about this "realism" thing; I cheered when the secondary astronaut character died. Not because I'm a sadist and like watching people die, but because after five minutes I was just so annoyed at the sound of his darn breathing! I'm supposed to care about this character, feel when he dies! Instead I found myself waiting for blissful silence whatever way it came.
Anyway, now we get to the most interesting part of the film-the part with HAL. Forget Dave the stick-of-wood protagonist. The real star of the show is that coldly impersonal, chillingly villainous, ruthlessly merciless bad guy of a computer. He's great. And the "Open the pod bay doors" sequence is wonderful. But it's too short. And it's not long before the director once again lapses into too-long goings on.
Four minutes for HAL to die. And die he does. Slowly, painfully, losing intelligence with every minute, voice getting lower and slower, singing "Daisy, Daisy", all with a low and constant hissing that becomes just as annoying as the heavy breathing.
Seven minutes of flying colors as Dave enters the monolith. Seven. I could FEEL my brains melting and dripping out of my ears! Seven full minutes of absolutely nothing but some guy's whacked out psychedelic version of space travel, again with that thrice-cursed chorus! We got the idea at the beginning of the sequence! Why drag it out so long? Unless he wanted to make LSD users go psychotic and have flashbacks.
I'm not even going to try to explain the ending, mostly because I don't quite get it myself. Supposedly he's in an alien research laboratory and they're teaching him deep and profound things while he watches himself getting older and older and then they send him back to earth as some kind of cosmic celestial space baby. None of this comes across in the film. For all you know, it's just a sequence of images with no purpose or plot whatsoever. A lot of the movie felt that way.
The first time I tried watching this movie I gave up halfway through. The second time I suffered through this sore excuse for a film, it was to help my sister time the sequences to see how long they lasted. It's that boring.
Call this crummy film "art" if you wish. I wouldn't. I've seen more interesting "art" in the local museum. And I am never subjecting myself to this kind of suffering ever again.