Deep sigh...

This is precisely why there ought to be a law against watching this film on anything smaller than a cinema screen the size of Bolivia. It really needs it. Television squashes it. On television, it feels too long at the start and end, but at the cinema, this film is not a second too long.

2001 is the greatest science fiction film ever made, and I will brook no argument with that. It is a landmark singular work of pure cinema. A monolith in film history. It is remarkable. There has never been anything like it before, and there never will be again.

Leaving aside the obvious visual effects quantum leap the film constitutes, and leaving aside how damned gorgeous it looks in its proper 70mm format (I've now seen it at the cinema four times), there is, unquestionably, the fact that it generates polarised responses. Some think it's a slow, cold, load of pretentious chin-stroking. I feel sorry for such people. Yes it is slow, but - especially in the big screen - it is never boring. On the contrary, it is mesmerising. As for cold, the very character of HAL disproves that entire point. HAL is a superb villain because he simply wants to be alive, and does what he feels to need to to survive, when threatened. When he fails, and begs not to be shut down, it is one of the most disturbing, oddly emotionally devastating scenes I've ever witnessed.

Then we have the sheer enigma of the film. Kubrick brilliantly remains aloof, leaving the viewer to bring their own interpretations and thus complete the picture. In addition to the mysterious process of mankind's evolution and possible rebirth into higher form of life in the finale, I think, with the character of HAL, Kubrick seems to be suggesting that technology has the ability to evolve beyond man, left unchecked. After all, why does HAL develop feelings? I don't think it is bad programming. I think that just as the ape comes into contact with the monolith at the beginning and is catapulted up the evolutionary chain, so HAL is triggered into consciousness by his contact with the monolith around Jupiter.

I could go on and on about the brilliance of this film. Really I ought to write a proper essay on it. Perhaps I will, in response to this. But damn it all, this has to be seen in the cinema. That's why I waited for rereleases before I allowed either of my children to see it. True love waits, dammit. (Both were very grateful I did make them wait, and were in awe of the film when they saw it properly.)

Rant over.