The weapons are not only used for hunting game though, but are immediately used to threaten a rival tribe, and then murder its leader. Technology, in this myth, is at its inception a product and means of death: the tools are weapons made of bone. It was fascinating to me to see that the evolutionary advance prompted by the proto-humans’ encounter with the obelisk led to the discovery of the first tools, yes, but tools that were immediately put to violent use. Kubrick employs the most conventionally distressing and dissonant music (from Ligeti) to provide the theme for the awe-inspiring obelisks, themselves the symbolic or actual spurring into the next stage of human advancement. Kubrick folds them into brief scenes of action that are layered among long sequences of slow-moving beauty, accompanied with music borrowed from Strauss, Strauss, and Khachaturian.

(I welcome anyone pointing me to writing along those lines, though!) The bloodless expanses of the film still contain moments that indicate that Kubrick is considering these themes in new dimensions, and perhaps more obliquely. I venture to say that 2001 is probably not thought of in terms of those themes primarily, or very often. The films of Stanley Kubrick often depict war, human brutality, and the ways that violence interpenetrate our social structures. Clarke’s parallel novel, these notes reflect my questions based solely on the text of the film, and my familiarity with Kubrick’s other films.

I was inspired to immediately request Michael Benson’s new book, Space Odyssey, on the making of the film.

I had the rare privilege of seeing Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey in the “unrestored” 70mm film projection, which proved to be one of the top two theatrical viewing experiences of my life so far.

Space odyssey benson