Stanley Kubrick Retrospective

Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999), the legendary Hollywood movie director, is the subject of a retrospective being presented by the Toronto International Film Festival starting this month. Stanley Kubrick: A Cinematic Odyssey will run from Oct. 31 to Jan. 25 at the TIFF Bell Lightbox (350 King Street West).

It includes such classics as A Clockwork Orange, Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, 2001: A Space Odyssey and Lolita.

Kubrick’s evolution as a master of the cinema is evident in early movies such as The Killing, Paths of Glory and Spartacus, which are reviewed here.

Kubrick called The Killing his first mature movie. He was only 28 when this gritty black-and-white crime thriller was released in 1956. Initially panned by the critics, it has since become a cult favourite, having influenced, among others, Quentin Tarrantino.

A film noir, The Killing is about human frailties — greed, corruption, violence, jealousy, adultery, racism.

The central character, an ex-con named Johnny (Sterling Hayden), wants to pull off one more robbery so he can retire in comfort with his considerably younger girlfriend (Coleen Gray), who looks up to him. Johnny, having devised an intricate plot to rob a race track of a cool $2 million, has recruited several accomplices to make it work to perfection. It will be one of the most daring and methodical robberies in history.

Two of Johnny’s associates, George (Elisha Cook) and Mike (Joe Sawyer), are employed by the track as a cashier and bar tender respectively. George is a jealous husband whose philandering wife, Sherry (Marie Windsor), is having an affair with Val (Vince Edwards), a younger man. Mike is a family man whose wife is bedridden. George and Mike assume that the heist will give them financial security. Johnny’s other accomplice, Randy (Ted de Corsia), is a corrupt cop deep in debt to a loan shark.

Apart from these ne’er-do-wells, Johnny hires two thugs, Nicky and Maurice, to create distractions while the robbery is in progress. Nicky is to shoot a galloping horse, while Maurice’s job is to provoke a fist fight with police officers.

As planned, the robbery goes off smoothly, but the elaborate plot crumbles in a series of  mishaps that claim lives. Clearly, crime does not pay.

At times, The Killing has the feel and the look of a documentary, but it’s essentially a fast-paced, hard-edged thriller. An off-camera announcer fills in important details in a stentorian tone, in typical Kubrick style. A blaring musical score heightens the tension.

Kubrick’s screenplay is first-rate, and his cast is excellent. The Killing, though made on a shoestring budget, is a model of cinema verite.

Paths of Glory, a 1957 anti-war film, is set in France in 1916 as World War I rages. Starring Kirk Douglas as a decent French army colonel who sticks up for his men, it’s a cri de coeur about a miscarriage of justice that claims the lives of three innocent soldiers whom the generals consider little more than cannon fodder.

The veteran Hollywood actor Adolphe Menjou plays Georges Broulard, a canny general who persuades a lower-ranking general, Mireau (George Macready), to undertake a suicidal attack against a German fortification on the western front. At first, Mireau vehemently opposes the plan, but modifies his opinion after he’s told he’s in line for a promotion.

On the eve of the offensive, Broulard mingles with the soldiers, aggressively asking, “Ready to kill more Germans?”

In a meeting with Col. Dax (Douglas), Broulard callously estimates that one-third of his men will be killed during the attack. Dax agrees to lead it but voices skepticism about its chances of  success.

The infantry charge, which takes place under a barrage of French artillery fire, is riveting. Soldiers, rifles in hand, run forward under intense German fire. Picked off by snipers, they fall and crumple lifelessly in the mud or on barbed wire.

Told that the attack is failing, Mireau issues an order that his subordinates archly question. He absurdly claims that the soldiers are not advancing because they have mutinied.

To protect himself, Mireau convenes a court martial. Three soldiers are randomly chosen to stand trial for cowardice and insubordination. Dax, a criminal lawyer by profession, is chosen to defend the poor saps. The court martial scenes are powerful. The prosecutor argues that the botched offensive is a stain on France’s honor. Dax counters that innocent men are being condemned to death and that the trial is a mockery. He pleads for mercy, but to no avail.

Broulard is shown to be the ultimate cynic, without scruples, in the following scenes. It’s a stinging indictment of the military leadership.

In Paths of Glory, Kubrick acquits himself as an able director. The film is spare, crisp and affecting. No false notes are struck. The cast, from Menjou and Douglas on down, is terrific. It’s clear that Kubrick is in full control of the material.

Kubrick’s sword/and sandal epic, Spartacus (1960), stars Kirk Douglas as a slave who leads a slaves’ revolt against the mighty Roman empire. At three hours long, it’s a marathon that unfolds against the backdrop of spectacular scenery, gladiators fighting to the death and armies clashing in bloody battles.

Freedom is its overarching theme, and Spartacus, the son and grandson of Thracian slaves, is its burning symbol.

The plot is straight-forward. Slave trader Batiatus (Peter Ustinov) buys Spartacus and places him in his gladiators’ school. There, Spartacus learns to be a professional fighter. He realizes that his career may be short-lived. As Batiatus observes, he and the other slaves can expect to live no more than 10 years. The school’s luckiest graduates may become slave traders.

The slaves rise up in revolt after a violent incident that robs them of their dignity, and Spartacus  becomes their leader. He forms an army of slaves and recruits volunteers. They intend to lease ships and go back to their respective homes as free men. En route, they rout a Roman army and send its commander packing on a horse.

The humiliating defeat emboldens Crassus (Laurence Olivier), a Roman general who decides to intercept and destroy Spartacus’ rag-tag army. Crassus wants to make an example of Spartacus to discourage other slaves from revolting. In short, he wants to kill Spartacus and the legend of Spartacus.

The film is far too long and sags in mid-course, but picks up in a superb battle scene that may send chills up your spine.

The script is by Dalton Trumbo, who was blacklisted during the McCarthy era. It’s a serviceable screenplay, though hardly a great one.

A pantheon of A-list actors, from Jean Simmons as Spartacus’ love interest to Charles Laughton as a cynical Roman senator, grace the screen with their presence. But the star is doubtless Douglas, who pouts and fights his way to martyrdom.

Spartacus set box office records, but it’s not as compelling as Ben-Hur. Still, it’s a rousing film, full of sound and fury heralding the arrival of an up-and-coming director.