A Clockwork Orange (1971)

capsule review

A CLOCKWORK ORANGE

Warner Bros
As I slowly work my way through my Netflix queue, which contains all the classic movies I have yet to see (there are, sadly, still so many more to go), A Clockwork Orange arrived in my mailbox. I knew of it and I knew about it, but I didn’t know much else. Like everyone else, I had seen a couple of scenes, and I, of course, knew this was Malcolm McDowell’s star-making role. But it was time to see for myself what many critics consider to be Stanley Kubrick’s best work and among the top films of all time. It certainly didn’t take me long to understand. And, by the end of the film, I was so captivated, riveted, haunted and consumed by what the film had to say that all I wanted to do was grab the closest person and engage them in a philosophical debate. But that’s not even the most affecting part of it. Kubrick was a true artist, and in every frame his brilliance can be seen, every shot a perfectly crafted surrealistic painting. But it is the story, the acting (oh, the magnificently ravenous performance by McDowell that certainly must have haunted anyone who saw this on the big screen) and the direction that makes this film an absolute masterpiece. Just like every other Kubrick film, there is no way to capture it with words…you just have to see it. And as soon as you do, come find me—I’ll want to talk to you about it.