The book and the film of 2001, A Space Odyssey were developed simultaneously, and before we begin a discussion of them, let’s talk about the era in which they were released. Summer 1968. Human beings had never left low Earth orbit. Star Wars was almost a decade away. Woodstock hadn’t happened. Bobby Kennedy hadn’t been assassinated yet. For those of us who are from the post-2001 generations, it’s impossible to fully appreciate the worldview at that time. Up to this point, science fiction in film, at least as far as most folks were concerned, consisted of cheesy, low-budget films with sleek rockets and bug-eyed monsters. To say that this work was revolutionary is putting it mildly. Arthur C. Clarke and Stanley Kubrick collaborated to produce a work as scientifically accurate as possible.
As with all of Kubrick’s work, it’s certainly beautiful, but is it… you know… good? As a work of cinematic art, it is excellent. It is perhaps the best example of practical special effects in any film. The opening scene[ref]By opening scene I mean the first scene in space, not the Dawn of Man sequence because what?[/ref] is such a good example of beautiful visuals, excellent science, and wordless storytelling that I show it in even traditional (non sci-fi) intro astronomy courses. One of the defining characteristics of good sci-fi is the grounding of characters in the familiar. In Star Wars, the relatable character Luke Skywalker is wearing clothes that are alien but instantly familiar.[ref]Luke’s pants are regular off-the-shelf tan Levi’s jeans.[/ref] Similarly, in 2001, the characters are dressed in slightly forward-looking (for 1968) fashionable clothes: collarless shirts, tweed suits. This extends also to branding: we see both IBM and Howard Johnson in the opening minutes. The viewer instantly feels comfortable in this vision of the not-too-distant future. As a modern viewer it looks like Mad Men in space, but a viewer at its inception would’ve felt right at home.
One of the great achievements of the film is its use of the passage of time. Space travel is slow and neither are decisions made nor actions taken in haste. But, I hear everyone born after 1972 asking, doesn’t that make it boring? It depends. If you’re a fan of film from the 1930s through early 1970s, the pacing won’t feel abnormal. It is slow but deliberately so. Perhaps more than almost any other film, 2001 is meant to be seen on the big screen; it is intended to be an all-encompassing audio-visual experience, something that ironically most of us rarely experience in an era of ever-growing home entertainment systems. Even though one can buy a decent home theater projection system or an enormous TV for the cost of a tablet, we consume more and more of our visual entertainment on smaller and smaller screens. If you haven’t seen 2001 on a big screen with good sound, please don’t judge it.
A question that keeps me up at night[ref]It really does. That’s how I roll.[/ref] is this: does good science make bad movies? Anecdotally, (or if you read any other post on this blog) it would seem the answer is yes. 2001 is as close as anything comes to a no. It’s ranked number 15 on the AFI’s top 100 films list, and is the only hard sci-fi film on the list[ref]It is joined in the top 100 by soft sci-fi films Star Wars, E.T., and Blade Runner.[/ref]. And the science really is as good as they could do at the time and within the constraints of 1960s cinema. The rotating craft are all rotating at the correct speed to produce Earth-like gravity. The curvature of the spacecraft exteriors matches the curvature of their interiors. The zero gravity scenes are better than those in any film until Apollo 13. The storytelling is excellent as well–it’s a mystery story, though most viewers don’t recognize it. It’s also a coming of age story: humanity has finally matured to the point where we will be allowed to communicate with other civilizations in the Galaxy. This more than anything else firmly roots 2001 in the 1960s.
Rather than rehash the entire plot or attempt to explain the acid trip ending, I will simply urge you to watch 2001, again or for the first time, but please see it on the biggest screen you can. If you’re they type of person who likes to do half a dozen other things while watching a movie… stop it. Pretend like you’re at a movie theater and your phone battery died. Really watch it. Drink it in.
Then read the book. Then watch the movie again. It’s good.