The monolith, whatever happened there?
Open the pod bay doors, Hal. I'm sorry, Dave. I'm afraid I can't do that. "I will say that the God concept is at the heart of 2001 but not any traditional, anthropomorphic image of God," so said master filmmaker Stanley Kubrick about his breakthrough 2001: A Space Odyssey. This can be taken in two ways. Many have compared it to the philosopher
Spinoza's famous quote that God is not He who Is, but that Which Is, making the film about
evolution, creation, and ultimately rebirth. The monoliths, in this view, are the figurative divine
touch, guiding humanity first in creating tools, then ultimately in recreating ourselves
as the Star Child. At the same time, filmmaking itself is an act of creation, where
the director serves as the divine presence, shaping the outcome to his or her will.
In the film - and we are excluding the book altogether for our purposes here - whatever force
has placed the monoliths makes certain choices, not always easily explained. Why choose that
band of primitive humans at that particular time? Why place the monolith on the moon, then
direct humanity to Jupiter? What costs do these interventions come with for humanity? In the
making of the film, Kubrick made similar choices, not all of which are easily explained. Why
tell a story composed of four almost entirely distinct episodes, separated by thousands
upon thousand of years and miles in space and time? Why make the human characters seem
boring and inconsequential and invest in a computer with the only real personality in
the entire movie? Why leave the viewer with an ending that makes little logical sense
and is almost entirely unexplained?
The Dawn of Man depicts a time before
the emergence of modern humans, where primitive ape-like creatures roam about in
a state of nature. They eat what is convenient, dry vegetation around their habitat, with few
to no options for fending off predator attacks, save brute strength. But when faced
with a stronger and more athletic foe, strength alone did little good. This proved
true in the battle at the watering hole, where the stronger ape-like creatures scared off
their competing tribe without need for a fight. The challenging tribe had the intelligence to know
when they were overmatched, and in their defeat they lacked the basic necessity of water.
They took shelter in tight quarters, bundled together for warmth up against the rocks that
provided limited defense from the elements. The following morning the mysterious monolith appeared
over a chorus of religious undertones and excited banter from the thirsty ape-like creatures.
Overwhelmed by the divine hand before them, they are timid and reluctant at first, but before
long they begin touching the powerhouse force before them. We see the looming “trinity” style
shot similar to the opening shot in the film, symbolically illustrating a giant
evolutionary leap forward for mankind.
Shortly after that divine touch, a member
of the ape-like tribe discovers the concept of tools - the ability to manipulate elements
of the environment in a favorable way, and it is no coincidence that the first tool during the
long rich history of humanity would be a weapon. It seems violence is also discovered as well.
The overjoyed man is absolutely dumbfounded by his discovery, and before long, the primitive men
begin hunting for food in a way unlike anything previously imagined. Now the tribe is eating meat,
affording them better nutrition and by extension development. Even the younger next generation is
already curious about the potential found in the power of this simple tool, prepared to better
test its limitations with more allotted time to experiment. This all paved the way to the watering
hole rematch, where the profound differences between the tribes were on full display, with the
stronger and more athletic ape-like tribe being exactly that, more ape-like. But the primitive
men stood more upright in less intimidating style, with less agility and brute strength, but they
stood confidently, believing in their profound discovery. This time there was a fight, and
it was a complete and total mismatch in favor of the primitive weapon wielding men.
The epic jump cut spanning millions of years illustrated the full scope of how man progressed
after first learning to make use of tools. Here, we should stop to consider some of Kubrick’s
choices so far. First, necessity appears to be the mother of invention. He chose to show the
ultimately successful band being chased off first, and only then do they discover that bones can
be used as weapons. Second, tools and weapons, at least in this early stage are seen as
interchangeable. They are one and the same, and third, they are inextricably linked to violence.
In Kubrick’s world, everything usually comes with a cost, and it seems the cost of evolutionary
development is pain and suffering – perhaps for another group for a time, but these tools
will ultimately change the world, for both good and bad, which seems precisely what Kubrick is
suggesting in the cut directly to the future.
A symphony of beautifully constructed spacecraft
dance around in perfect harmony around the radiant lighting of the majestic void just between
Earth and moon. It was man’s mastery of his own environment, all triggered by that monumental
moment the ape-like tribe evolved into primitive men. Interestingly, we see no man at first,
only beautiful, perfectly adapted machines. The spacecraft are gracefully navigating around
this barren backdrop of endless stars, but once we peer inside the ships, the men occupying these
craft are hardly graceful themselves, and indeed, they move around awkwardly and in cumbersome
style. The machines are far better evolved to navigate in space. Indeed, man isn’t doing a whole
lot of anything except mostly sitting around: sitting around, waiting, and observing, while
otherwise having very little to do as a result of their evolution and the corresponding
evolution of the tools they use.
It seems the tools have taken over and despite
having a great abundance of knowledge and technology, life as a man in space was far from
glamorous. Everything was tedious. Food delivery was an arduous process, and the reward
was plain-tasting food that was difficult to consume. The instructions on how to use the
zero gravity toilets were a real inconvenience for any first time users who found themselves
in a dire emergency to find relief, suggesting basic bodily functions are now more difficult than
ever, and if you weren’t paying close attention, one of those all important and practical tools
might find a mind of its own and just float away beyond your grasp, causing an inconvenience even
worse than a TV remote being just a couple of feet out of reach. For all of humanity’s progress
in fulfilling basic needs dating back to the Dawn of Man, life in space made these simpler
tasks more complex, a backward step of sorts.
Then there was the whole idea of deception. There
was secrecy of the highest magnitude regarding the Moon discovery, where despite the secret
being very poorly hidden, Dr Floyd ensured that the cover story remained intact. In some ways the
watering hole rematch involved an inherent degree of deception, because the unwitting stronger
tribe had no idea that they were being provoked into a trap that would not bode well for them.
The deception theme is a little more subtle and beneath the surface, but it is an important
theme all the same. Kubrick’s use of stage craft here also suggests the potential for violence
bubbling below the surface; one gets the sense that there is an uneasy detente (day-taawnt)
between the tribes turned into countries, but one that could easily break into war under
the right conditions. Given the film followed his classic Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to
Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, which was about a potential nuclear war between the United States
and the Soviet Union, we should assume viewers were well aware of the underlying conflict and
that great rivals for power have the capacity to unleash the beautiful spacecraft we have seen
for destructive ends. He does not say it out loud, but his filmmaking is such that he doesn’t
have to. Kubrick also leaves the viewer with a subtle irony: Humanity has found evidence of a
message from some unknown mysterious entity, and they respond by shutting down all messages between
competing countries, the fight over the watering hole all over again, and the seeming cost for
advancement that needs to be continually paid.
Regardless, we learn that a second monolith
was discovered, an unknown artifact, and it was said to have been deliberately buried
4 million years ago. The eerie religious sounds we previously heard in the Dawn of Man resurface as
the men investigate the strange object. Like the ape-like creatures before them, the men touch the
object, overwhelmed with curiosity. But despite touching the divine entity, no evolutionary step
forward transpires, because instead of showing any degree of pure enlightenment whatsoever,
the investigators instead choose to document the moment rather than live it. Like a modern
day group selfie, the cameraman is trying to direct everyone to get a little closer, and in
the face of God Almighty, these knuckleheads are effectively defeated by their own ignorance and
arrogance. The monolith emits dreadful sounds of dismay, deeming the easily distracted unworthy.
Kubrick doesn’t make it clear why these two monoliths function differently, save for how they
are approached. For whatever reason, primitive man is shown worshiping the object that has appeared
in their midst, whereas the man of the future reduces it to a photograph. The difference
is striking and carefully constructed by the filmmaker himself. Kubrick specifically chose to
include the photograph sequence, when he could have easily left it out given the length of the
movie. Therefore, we can assume it is meaningful and based on the previous imagery in the sequence
– the video phone call, the shots of space through tiny windows, we can reasonably assume that future
humanity no longer sees or experiences the world as it is. This makes him somehow less perceptive
– dare we say less pure? – to the intervention of the monolith and the monolith itself doesn’t
appear to be very happy. We see another trinity shot, but things seem far less triumphant.
Indeed, quite the opposite. This time the monolith demands humanity embark on a quest
to advance to the next stage of evolution.
The Jupiter Mission takes things to the next
level. Right out of the gate we see a gigantic sperm shaped spacecraft navigating through empty
space as though the plan was to seed the very stars, eerily symbolic of things to come, even as
Kubrick presents this sequence cold as the last one and leaves it to the viewer to understand what
has happened in the intervening time. The jump is less dramatic than going from prehistory to the
future, but serves the same purpose – it’s now up to the viewer to explore the scene and
learn for themselves what has transpired, as it was up to the early humans to discover
the monolith in the first place. In this sense, we can choose to be like the scientists who
tried to blithely photograph God or like the more primal human who actually experiences
the divine presence. The choice is ours, as we wish to explore the world Kubrick creates
for us. Onboard the ship are 5 humans, 3 of whom are in a state of hibernation to preserve vital
supplies of food and water, and also oxygen. Doctor Dave Bowman and Doctor Frank Poole are the
only two men awake for the entirety of the trip, and the difficulty of life in space for man
is even more pronounced, with scarce resources required for survival that can’t simply be
refilled at the nearest station. Movement is still cumbersome and the food remains tasteless, where
meals are dispensed from a futuristic vending machine device. But at least Discovery One affords
the duo some entertainment and leisurely freedom, with the ability to exercise, chat with loved ones
on Earth, watch themselves on TV, or even to play chess with their supercomputer, the HAL 9000.
HAL is instrumental to the Mission, effectively in control of the majority of Discovery's operations,
and far and away the most captivating personality in the entire movie, another choice specifically
made by Kubrick. HAL acts as the brain and central nervous system of the ship, where he has an
uncanny ability to mimic most activities of the human brain with incalculably greater speed and
reliability and efficiency, with the added bonus of being able to multitask in ways unimaginable
to mankind. During his interview with The World Tonight, HAL claims he is not frustrated by his
dependence on people to carry out certain actions, and throughout the interview HAL comes across
like a perfectly trained celebrity dropping PR cliches like a true master of the craft. He is
in one sense a tool - an evolution of the bone turned into a weapon – but in another he is far
more like us than anything we’ve created so far, an intelligence that has already made the jump
allowed by the first monolith. He likewise emanates a certain blend of arrogance and pride
with regards to his flawless intellectual prowess, similar to how a human reveling in
their responsibilities and power might, or dare I say a filmmaker trying to describe what
he or she sees as the genius of their creation. HAL’s ability to mimic is simply impeccable. Not
only does he nail the interview in style, but he exhibits good sportsmanship when he beats Poole in
chess, he exudes warm and friendly mannerisms when he wishes Frank a Happy Birthday after the call
with his parents, and he is kind and considerate during his discussions with Poole and Bowman.
During one particular conversation with Bowman, HAL comes across as especially human when
expressing concerns about the mysteries surrounding their mission, the strange stories
and rumors about something incredibly important being dug up on the moon, and the fact that their
Mission preparations were kept under such tight security. HAL is likewise inquisitive about the
melodramatic touch of having 3 members of the team in hibernation who had already received
months of training on their own, training the awake crew including the computer itself weren’t
privy to. Bowman appeared suspicious at this line of questioning, and he attributes it to HAL
working on his crew psychology report. HAL goes along with it at the time, but in reality
what we are witnessing here through the entire conversation is HAL mimicking the art of deception
and Kubrick himself somewhat deceiving the viewer, making HAL’s intentions and relationship with the
crew mysterious, a fact that will come into play later. Dave was right to be suspicious that
HAL was somehow testing and manipulating him, but it wasn’t for any psychological report. HAL
was fishing here, but the machine was playing a deeper game, and when it ultimately determined
that Dave did not have any top secret information beyond what we’d later learn HAL already
knew, he went to plan B - the supposedly imminent failure of the faulty AE35 Unit.
Deception is at the heart of the entire film. In HAL’s elaborate ploy regarding the faulty
Unit, said to completely fail within 72 hours, despite being fully operational at present,
he is afforded the chance to study one of the few processes not entirely under his control.
The omnipresent seeing eye of Big Brother HAL is capable of observing every little detail of
every moment in his realm, his Kingdom that is Discovery One. Space debris flying about in the
distance represents another danger HAL offers protection from, and Dave uses the space pod to
retrieve the AE35 Unit, and much to his surprise, he cannot find a damn thing wrong with it. HAL
acts as if he is equally baffled by the puzzling situation, and HAL then suggests that they
replace the faulty unit waiting for it to fail, so they can pinpoint the problem. Things became
even more mesmerizing when Mission Control agreed with the plan to replace the faulty Unit to check
the fault prediction, but that according to their Twin 9000 computer, HAL was in error about his
prediction. This was an unprecedented situation where two 9000 computers provided contradictory
information, and with humanity’s great reliance on their technological treasures, they are skeptical
and are forced to run cross-checking routines to determine the reliability of these conclusions.
There is also an odd, haunting humanity to the sequence. Bowman and Poole largely behave like
robots, either doing what they are told by the computer, or interacting with the computer
via mundane tasks. We know they have families from a video birthday greeting and they should
come across as human if not entirely likable, but instead Kubrick renders them as robotic
ciphers. There could be something underneath or perhaps nothing. HAL on the other hand is
engaged, seems to be grappling with real problems, and – with the notion that it has made an error
– comes across as more human than machine, a striking dichotomy that plays out in how Kubrick
crafts the film as the God of this world instead of through any actual dialogue or plot device.
For example, Bowman asks if HAL can explain the discrepancy, and HAL says it can only be
attributed to human error, where he boasts about the infallible perfect operational record of the
9000 series, a self-evidently human trait. Dave thanks HAL before attempting a poor deception
of his own, where he asks Frank for help. HAL saw right through it, and he likewise saw through
the thorough precautions they took to ensure that HAL could not hear the conversation. Frank was
especially concerned about HAL’s behavior, and the two ultimately conclude that they SHOULD test and
see whether the Unit does indeed fail as predicted by HAL. But in the event HAL’s prediction
proved false, they agree that disconnecting HAL’s higher brain functions is their only option.
Although Dave does express some concern over how HAL would feel about that. But in their effort
to conceal the discussion from HAL, he proved extremely versatile in his counter-deception
with his uncanny ability to lipread.
Poole sets off in a pod to put the supposedly
faulty Unit back in place, with the goal of testing HAL’s prediction and reliability. What
they do not realize is that HAL has been testing them, and through that Kubrick had been testing
the viewer the entire time. It is sometimes said that HAL malfunctioned by improperly claiming
the unit is damaged, but Kubrick is playing a deeper game. HAL has instead taken the mission
to heart and is testing the loyalty of the crew - whether to him or command back home. They
can either trust him that the unit was doomed to fail or trust mission control on Earth. The
humans have tried a counter game of their own, but have failed miserably by not understanding the
larger play. Many humans watching the film fail Kubrick’s own test here, believing the computer
made a mistake when in reality it was carrying out a plan of its own. Before this realization
is made entirely real, the space pods themselves can be seen as visual representations
of humanity at that point in the future, where the huge head-like face is representative
of the accumulative power of information and experience gained since the Dawn of Man; and the
small hands are representative of the long rich history of man’s inventions since that time, where
technological advancements have left man with very little to actually do. Then beyond the pod, you
have the looming presence of Discovery One which is like a visual representation of HAL himself -
where you have an absolutely gigantic head, and no hands at all. Man might have small tiny arms
that have very little to do, but when something needs to be done, they have the ability to try
and do it. HAL, however, is entirely reliant on humans and therefore needs to be certain
they can be trusted from his point of view.
This all circles back to the interview question
where HAL was asked if he was ever frustrated by his dependence on people to carry out certain
actions. And optically HAL’s superior intellectual and computing capacity is on full display in
this artistic visual representation. All of this goes to suggest that HAL was much more aware
of the importance of their Discovery Mission. We later learn that HAL already had a great deal
more information pertaining to the mission than Bowman or Poole, and when we look back at
the key evolutionary step that transformed the ape-like tribe into primitive men, and we see the
failure to progress when man’s arrogance chose to document his first encounter with God rather
than EXPERIENCE it - HAL himself, even without a full grasp of exactly what was happening,
no doubt understood the bigger picture more clearly than Poole or Bowman, and no doubt HAL
viewed himself as being a more worthy candidate as a prime representative of the future.
Once the machine realizes it will be betrayed, HAL then goes on a murdering rampage, first
ramming the pod into Poole and cutting off his air supply, where the collision
leaves both tumbling away in silence into vast empty space. Dave sees his colleague
floating away and asks HAL what happened, to which HAL again deceives Dave claiming not to
have enough information. Dave grabs another space pod to retrieve the body of Poole, and while he
is off ship, HAL decides it was the optimal moment to eliminate the rest of the pesky humans with
all their needs and limitations, and the three hibernating team members have their life support
machines shut down. Unfortunately for Dave, in his rush to take action and salvage the space
corpse of Poole, he had forgotten his helmet, and at this point HAL no longer has any need for him
- and yet HAL cannot resist boasting about how he read their lips and outplayed them in their act to
deceive him, arrogantly showboating his perceived superiority, not unlike the ungrateful moonwalkers
trying to get a selfie with God Almighty.
It was checkmate for HAL, or so he confidently
believed, but unlike Frank just accepting inevitable defeat against HAL in their earlier
chess game, Bowman’s fighting spirit emerged on full display, where his innovation afforded him
one shot, a long shot, at besting HAL in the face of defeat. Bowman’s ingenuity paid dividends, as
he managed to open the airlock with the tiny small pod arms, and then he used Checkov’s gun, or in
this case Kubrick’s explosives, allowing the force of the explosion to propel his body directly into
the airlock where he managed to reach the lever in a timely fashion. Checkmate indeed, it was
curtains for HAL. Knowing his demise was imminent, HAL does his most compelling and convincing human
mimicry to date, claiming everything was fine, pleading with Dave for his life, promising he
will be helpful going forward, and using every trick in his human-like bag to dissuade Dave
from finishing him off. In his dying moments as his “mind” began rapidly deteriorating,
his programming sentience flashed before him, reverting to his earliest moments which read like
a young school boy’s autobiography, and he recited a “childhood” song in his dying moments.
We see Kubrick’s choices boldly at work throughout the entire sequence. The humans all
die in silence. We cannot hear their screams, they offer no final worlds. Three of the four who
die are literally turned off. HAL on the other hand is given a perversion of a traditional death
scene; Kubrick renders it as if he was lying in a pool of blood, making his final confession.
The difference could not be more stark, lending support to the idea that humanity
has fallen from its more primal, aware state, and therefore is no longer fit to be blessed
by the monolith. Bowman is the only exception. He has fought for his own life, and appears
moved by HAL’s final words. He then learns of the secrets only known to HAL prior to the
Mission, when he hears the pre-recorded message from Mission Control, which once again placed the
theme of deception into the forefront. Bowman, however, was up to the challenge, and he and he
alone was prepared to see the Mission through, prepared to face whatever unknown mystery the 4
million year old black monolith brought forth.
Bowman is then taken on a Lynchean rollercoaster
ride through the cosmos. Visually it appeared as if it were a long and traumatic journey
into the vast unknown. It was a helluva trip. Once he ultimately arrived at his surreal
destination, Dave experiences time and existence in a completely different way, aging before
his own eyes, before having a final last supper and seeing himself on his own deathbed. Dave had
experienced the unknown, beyond the infinite, and in his dying moments a mighty monolith appeared
before him. Unlike the previous instances when we see a monolith, there is no chorus of religious
sounding overtones, it is nearly silent - not unlike the dying moments of his 4 crewmates. Dave
does his best to reach out toward the monolith, but he is too old and weak to do so. Bowman
is, however, in the moment - alive, seeing and experiencing his world as it is. His efforts
were rewarded not unlike the ape-like tribe who evolved into primitive man, Bowman had been reborn
and evolved into the magnificent Star Child. It represents the end of one journey from ape-like
creature to man, and the beginning of a new journey when the Star Child is reborn. The ending
exudes a great sense of hope and optimism.
The imagery throughout the film strongly suggests
the monolith is the working of God, providing a guiding hand in human evolution. At the same
time, the film itself is the work of human hands, where Kubrick is essentially God. He constructs
the world the viewer sees, decides what to show and what not, and how it ends, both wonderful and
strange. Much like the monolith itself, Kubrick through his choices leaves it up to the viewer to
make out precisely what has happened. On one hand, it is the story of survival from our earliest
days to the depths of space, where humanity is barely a speck in the cosmos and the drama of our
lives - whether as protohumans fighting over a watering hole or advanced humans living in space
– is overwhelmed by the infinite. We are small, the universe is large, and all of it is moved by
powers we cannot comprehend. On another level, it is a story about the nature of intelligence
itself, how a single breakthrough idea can lead to an unforeseen and unexpected future,
both increasing our capacity and reducing it. Intelligence alone is not the answer, the
same way traditional narrative alone will not explain the film. An emotional, more primal
component is required to truly experience the world of the film and the world at large.
Kubrick once said, if it can be thought, it can be filmed, and here he seems to be
demonstrating how a single, relatively simple story can serve as a kaleidoscope of competing
scientific and philosophical concepts, leaving it to the viewer which way to look and why.
Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Powerful stuff, and an extraordinarily divine viewing
experience if ever there was one. Dare I say, the greatest motion picture of all time.
Thank you very much for watching everyone, I hope you enjoyed, and have a wonderful night.
Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do.
