Hey, it’s cheaper than film school.
Fear and Desire (1953): Fear and Desire is in the public domain, which means the quality of the production is completely dependent on which copy you come across. The one I watched was this wierdly colorized version where each scene looked as though it was viewed through a kaleidoscope. Clothes and skin color would change on a whim. Actors would have a blue shirt on in one scene, blue skin in the next. Very Smurfy. It was kind of cool in an acid flashback sort of way.
Killer’s Kiss (1955): Killer’s Kiss is tacked onto the Criterion Collection edition of The Killing, but to me, it was the star. There’s a bunch of little moments showcasing the seeds from which Kubrick’s career would eventually grow. The scene with the mannequins was just awesome.
The Killing (1956): Solid noir. A solid caper. Any movie with Elisha Cook Jr. is all right by me. (See also: The Big Sleep, The House on Haunted Hill, Rosemary’s Baby.)
Paths of Glory (1957): This is the movie that introduced me to Timothy Carey for which I will be forever grateful. Character actors make the world go round.
Spartacus (1960): Kirk Douglas is not dead. Spartacus is not over. He’s still out there. It’s still playing.
Lolita (1962): Watching Lolita through 2022 eyes is a touch disturbing at best. Still, I could listen to James Mason speak the day long. If anyone needs me, I’ll be rewatching 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964): I’ve watched Dr. Strangelove a handful of times at this point in my life. Each time it’s like watching a funhouse version of what a movie should be. Slim Pickens is my man, so his climatic scene will always resonate with me over the rest.
2001: A Space Odyssey (1968): I showed this to my kids a few months back, thinking they would turn away from the artiness of it all. Nope. They were mesmerized. Proud moments in cinephile parenting. 2010: The Year We Make Contact is pretty good too.
A Clockwork Orange (1971): I was obsessed with this movie as a teenager. VHS copy and all. To this day I still listen to I Wanna Marry a Lighthouse Keeper. This is one of those movies that keeps evolving. What was shocking in the eighties when I first watched it – to say nothing of those poor, unfortunate souls who caught it opening night – looks like reality television or clips from the Tik Tok generation. The fashion and sets along are amazing. What goes around comes around. My personal favorite Kubrick flick.
Barry Lyndon (1975): The never-ending story before The Never-Ending Story. Everyone loves this film. Phil Rosenthal loves this film and I love Phil Rosenthal. But I don’t love this film. The best part for me was using the intermission of Barry Lyndon to pause and watch Filmworker which put some – non-story related – things into context. I was bored during the first half of the film, but completely engaged for the second. Movies have a funny way of doing that to you.
The Shining (1980): I watched this movie in the wee hours of the morning heading into Father’s Day. In hindsight, that was probably not my best move. It took a few episodes of Everybody Loves Raymond to cleanse my mental palate enough so that I could go to bed.
Full Metal Jacket (1987): This movie is great. But the Mickey Mouse Club March scene at the end is easily in my top ten movie moments of all-time.
Eyes Wide Shut (1999): Maybe it’s just me, but the words Tom Cruise and erotic thriller, don’t exactly mingle for me.
Extra Credit:
Room 237 (2012): I may be agnostic, but y’all need Jesus. This film was so nutty, I watched it twice.
Filmworker (2017): This documentary was both inspiring and depressing.
By the Numbers:
Order Watched: The Shining, Room 237, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Fear and Desire, Paths of Glory, A Clockwork Orange, Full Metal Jacket, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, The Killing, Killer’s Kiss, Barry Lyndon, Filmworker, Lolita, Spartacus, Eyes Wide Shut.
By the Numbers: 15 films, breaking down to 13 Kubrick flicks and 2 docs. 4 instances of Peter Sellers spread across two films. 3 instances of Leon Vitali, including an entire documentary in his honor. 2 instances of Kirk Douglas. 2 instances of Timothy Carey. (Look him up, he’s amazing.) 1 instance each of Phil Rosenthal, the mighty Slim Pickens (See also: Blazing Saddles), and the one, the only, Scatman Crothers. To quote House of Pain, Scatman Crothers gets all of my love.
