Perfection is an elusive creature. Perhaps no one knows this more than the late, great Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick, possibly the greatest filmmaker since Orson Welles, was an obsessive eccentric with the mind of a scientist, one of few directors with a clinical approach to filmmaking. Kubrick's last film,
Eyes Wide Shut, is a testament not only to how Kubrick made films, but more interestingly, about how he perceived mankind.
Like a National Geographic Biologist documenting the cutthroat behavior of a pack of hyenas, Kubrick dwells on the human species, showing hideously flawed beings doomed to play out a pathetic charade marked by ritual, code, and facade. His final film (and perhaps his most profound), EWS condemns humankind to the world of the superficial, where language is an empty form of communication, where the banal exchanges of pleasantries between people are wooden, and everyone is hidden behind masks, both literal and invisibly quotidien. What's hidden beneath the surface -the subtextual layers masking who we really are and what we really want- is the central theme in EWS, and what's ultimately revealed is how the carefully constructed artifice of our lives can fall apart in the blink of an eye.
The 'mask' is EWS's most literal and dominant metaphor, but one that perfectly illustrates who we really are: not what we seem. Dr. Bill's house of cards is defined by his job, his title, his status and his family. When Bill's wife Alice pulls out one his cards, the entire house topples to the floor. Despite Bill's wasted efforts to prove who he is is by presenting his doctor's license to everyone he meets, Bill isn't the learned man he wants everyone to recognize him as, in fact, he is basically a little boy defined by his sexual curiosity and naivete.
Every single interaction Bill has in EWS is wrought with sexual reference, innuendo or, in many instances, is overtly sexual. Even strange men Bill encounters manage to sexualize their meeting, whether it be a group of homophobic (possibly closeted) frat boys who taunt Bill about being a fag, or the the obviously gay hotel clerk played by the obviously gay Alan Cumming. These two encounters reveal that even when men interact with other men, sex is always present. In the end, sex is what defines Bill, since Bill is a man and every man is -at the core of his genetic makeup- a walking erection.
With EWS as his final statement, Kubrick concludes humans are a wild beast whose true nature is tempered by myriad masks. Despite Herculean efforts, our fate is unavoidable, our behavior merely superficial deviations from what's hard wired into our DNA. In the end, our genetic code barks primal directives we're doomed to march to and even though Kubrick may have been one of us, he sure as hell wasn't buying into our bullshit.
*** Note: EWS is an incredibly dense film, with every frame open to scrutiny and offering clues to the many different themes Kubrick was busy addressing. Make no mistake, my words merely scratch the surface and touch on very few themes within this incredibly layered and complex film. Like all great art, EWS improves with each look and is open to multiple interpretations. In time, I believe Kubrick's last film will be regarded as his best.
Like a National Geographic Biologist documenting the cutthroat behavior of a pack of hyenas, Kubrick dwells on the human species, showing hideously flawed beings doomed to play out a pathetic charade marked by ritual, code, and facade. His final film (and perhaps his most profound), EWS condemns humankind to the world of the superficial, where language is an empty form of communication, where the banal exchanges of pleasantries between people are wooden, and everyone is hidden behind masks, both literal and invisibly quotidien. What's hidden beneath the surface -the subtextual layers masking who we really are and what we really want- is the central theme in EWS, and what's ultimately revealed is how the carefully constructed artifice of our lives can fall apart in the blink of an eye.
The 'mask' is EWS's most literal and dominant metaphor, but one that perfectly illustrates who we really are: not what we seem. Dr. Bill's house of cards is defined by his job, his title, his status and his family. When Bill's wife Alice pulls out one his cards, the entire house topples to the floor. Despite Bill's wasted efforts to prove who he is is by presenting his doctor's license to everyone he meets, Bill isn't the learned man he wants everyone to recognize him as, in fact, he is basically a little boy defined by his sexual curiosity and naivete.
Every single interaction Bill has in EWS is wrought with sexual reference, innuendo or, in many instances, is overtly sexual. Even strange men Bill encounters manage to sexualize their meeting, whether it be a group of homophobic (possibly closeted) frat boys who taunt Bill about being a fag, or the the obviously gay hotel clerk played by the obviously gay Alan Cumming. These two encounters reveal that even when men interact with other men, sex is always present. In the end, sex is what defines Bill, since Bill is a man and every man is -at the core of his genetic makeup- a walking erection.
With EWS as his final statement, Kubrick concludes humans are a wild beast whose true nature is tempered by myriad masks. Despite Herculean efforts, our fate is unavoidable, our behavior merely superficial deviations from what's hard wired into our DNA. In the end, our genetic code barks primal directives we're doomed to march to and even though Kubrick may have been one of us, he sure as hell wasn't buying into our bullshit.
*** Note: EWS is an incredibly dense film, with every frame open to scrutiny and offering clues to the many different themes Kubrick was busy addressing. Make no mistake, my words merely scratch the surface and touch on very few themes within this incredibly layered and complex film. Like all great art, EWS improves with each look and is open to multiple interpretations. In time, I believe Kubrick's last film will be regarded as his best.
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