Alas, I find myself in the difficult position of saying that I don’t care for this film. I know that from a technical standpoint, it’s a masterpiece. I know it is regarded as a classic and one of the best in a long list of famous works by Stanley Kubrick. I know there are scenes in this film that are iconic and genre-defining. But I still hated it.

For one thing, I disagree with the philosophy behind it. I don’t think evolution is true, and I certainly don’t think that death is a necessary part of life, let alone a needed step on the way to transcendence. I don’t think technology is the path to enlightenment. I think technology, like superpowers and vampirism, is an amplifier of what is already inside the heart of man, not a path to anything new, just more. So, it’s hard to get invested in a movie that I disagree with in every respect. I can appreciate its technological achievements. I can appreciate the tropes it established. But I can’t align myself with its philosophy on a single point.

Secondly, I’m sorry, but from a narrative standpoint, this movie is a mess. The three-act structure is disproportionate. It spends too little time on act one, too much time on act two, and it doesn’t finish either of the story arcs, refusing to answer vital questions regarding the protagonists. I know it was attempting to answer an overall narrative question in act three—Technology and weaponry are the same, therefore . . .but I felt following the rise or fall of Moonwatcher was important foreshadowing for the rest of the film, and that story question was neglected, which made the first act feel incomplete.

I felt Heywood’s arc was pointless, and I had to find out from the internet whether he lived or died after hearing the Monolith’s signal because I couldn’t see his name on the tiny Discovery monitor later in the film. As silly as it might be, I was so curious about Heywood, I could hardly focus on Bowman, who is supposed to be the movie’s protagonist.

Hal is a brilliant but ultimately unexplored character, and the stargate sequence is entirely too long, filled with symbolism that is almost impossible to suss out. I understand that a movie should make the audience ask questions, but the plot still needs to be clear enough for someone to follow what’s happening.

Thirdly, I think reviewers of this film often conflate depth with conflict. There are competing ideas in this movie, mostly regarding the nature of the aliens. I don’t think Clarke and Kubrick could agree on whether or not the aliens were bad or good or neither, so I think all three possibilities are presented during a film in a bizarre collage of conflicting visuals and musical cues, leaving it up to the audience to decide the Monolith’s meaning and nature. The Monolith brings about great change, but is the change bad or good? Kubrick seems to suggest both in his film, but the book emphatically declares the aliens are humanity’s savior and this change is good, even though this change brings about death. So, the Monolith is presented as both divine and a menace.

On the one hand, eerie music plays every time the Monolith shows up, which would be in line with the idea that the Monolith is a sort of tree of the knowledge of good and evil, but at the same time, there are multiple celestial bodies converging whenever the Monolith appears, implying Clarke’s view that a kind of divine force is at work. This becomes truly confusing at the end when Bowman is trapped in a sort of zoo until he dies, then he’s transformed into a space baby.

On the one hand, there is a death and life narrative going on, but on the other, Kubrick leaves the fate of humanity open-ended as the space baby looks down on earth and Thus Spoke Zarathustra plays in the background, implying the arrival of the Übermensch, triumph, and menace, whereas Clarke has the baby blow up the planet. Does this new life bring about more life, or does it just bring about more death?

If this new life just brings about more death, then what’s the point of transcending, other than getting to be the one to kill people without reprisal? Meet the new boss—Space Baby, same as the old boss—evolution. And if the aliens are twisted enough to trap a human in a zoo, why would they become benevolent enough to allow a mortal man to transcend his humanity? In short, this movie is a mess, and that mess is conflated with depth.

On a positive note, where the movie shines, it shines bright. The scenes between Bowman and Hal are amazing. When Kubrick is sticking to his technology narrative, the movie is strong and consistent. The visuals are also incredible. The acting is solid. The voice of Hal is phenomenal. The whole Discovery sequence with Bowman, Poole, and Hal is as flawless as anyone could reasonably expect.  

The main issue comes when Kubrick is trying to address the Monolith. The idea that the Monolith represents the dichotomy of technology is clear and consistent up until the stargate sequence, when the Monolith stops representing knowledge and begins representing a semi-divine power. Once that happens, it becomes impossible to follow what’s happening. One reason for this is, ironically, the mysterious nature of the Monolith. The thing that makes the Monolith iconic is also the thing that makes it inconsistent.

Basically, Kubrick and Clarke knew the aliens built the Monolith, and they knew that the Monolith was a beacon and a test created by the aliens, but the audience wouldn’t know that unless they’d read the book. From the audience’s perspective, this mysterious otherworldly object gave humanity technology and is about to offer something else. The question is what? The answer to that question is enlightenment, transcendence to the next mode of being, but from the audience’s perspective.

The symbol for technological revelation is now standing at the foot of Bowman’s bed after transporting him to who knows where, and, suddenly, Bowman becomes a baby. There’s no reason to connect the Monolith to the transformation beyond a vague idea that it had something to do with it.

But the worst part of this movie is the idea of the Übermensch, especially considering what the baby does in the book. Kubrick’s presentation seems relatively innocent. Technology can lead to greater things, possibly a way to overcome evolution. But Clarke is defining the Übermensch as the ability to kill without remorse or limitation.

I wish I could say I recommend this movie, but I can’t. Kubrick seemed well-meaning enough, but Clarke’s ideology stains the film. In my opinion, it would be best to simply watch the conflict between Hal, Bowman, and Pool, and if a viewer wants to see some marvelous technological achievements, he or she could watch the Heywood act. The rest of the film has a poor message and is really a waste of time, even though it’s a classic.