Startling. That's the word I'd use to describe this film. In fact, it's startling right from the very beginning. We open on Malcom McDowell's intense, eye-lined stare, and pull out to reveal him in bizarre attire (bowler hat, codpiece, a casual eyeball on his wrist), drinking milk in a bar where tables are mannequinns of women performing graphic sexual acts. We're taken aback already, and we haven't even finished the opening shot.

Kubrick then keeps on startling us. A harsh beating of a homeless man, a comical mass-fight and a speeding car are images that stick in the mind, getting the precise blend of horror, comedy, excitement and disgust in all of them.

What's also particularly startling is Malcom McDowell's…

Burgess's novel is filled with unique language and harrowing acts of violence, so it seemed almost natural that Kubrick would try his hand at adapting it to film. By being faithful to the themes and language in the novel and adding a few strokes of his genius, he has created one of the best adaptions of a piece of literature to film.

It is a difficult novel to get into as Alex and his mates have a language of their own. The film does not compromise here and manages to capture the rich and literate text really well. He sticks so close to it that it at points felt like a re-read of the novel. The way they speak has…

I am so pleased to say I've just experienced A Clockwork Orange in a selected movie theater a few moments ago. This was the first film I had ever seen from Stanley Kubrick and what better way to revisit it than on the big screen? Damn, this restored version looked gorgeous. A Clockwork Orange is such a powerful and thought-provoking film. Not only there are unique and stylish sets / costumes for futuristic Britain, which are always a delight to see, but we also follow the mesmerizing journey of the ultraviolent delinquent Alex DeLarge (brilliantly portrayed by Malcolm McDowell) who seeks for an unconventional treatment as a way to reduce his sentence in jail and get reintroduced to society as…

41/100

Guess I should be grateful that one of the two friends who considers this the greatest movie ever made isn't on Letterboxd and the other hasn't used his account in months. Sorry buds. I thought I liked it a lot, based on my dim memory from over 20 years ago, but it seems didactic and jejune to me now, Kubrick's weakest film (post-Killer's Kiss, anyway) by a country mile. Yes, it makes a provocative statement about the inherent value of freedom—but that's the problem. It's a thesis, and while the most Socratic dialogue admittedly spells out the contrary position ("Choice! The boy has not a real choice, has he? Self-interest, the fear of physical pain drove him to that…

I've seen this a handful of times now, and read the book countless times more since my first encounter with it as a young malchick, and I'm still not entirely sure how to see Kubrick's take on it. On the one hand, it stays true to the theme of the novel and does a brilliant job of taking Nadsat and putting it into the film, while at the same time being entirely a Kubrickian invention - the costumes, the sets, the music, the portrayal of violence as 'art' - while on the other hand, it takes a much bleaker view towards the protagonist Alex, and seems to deal with the overall debate of whether we can sacrifice free will to…