I will admit, I had little desire to watch A Clockwork Orange. It was the hurdle preventing me from continuing to move through the American Film Institute’s (AFI) 100 Greatest American Films of All Time. The list had me jump from a favorite, intense watch like Saving Private Ryan at number 71, to a fever dream of gibberish with A Clockwork Orange at 70. At least, that is what I remembered the film to be.
That mental block is the result of originally watching the film in college (on VHS) on very little sleep. As I lay on my dorm neighbor’s questionable couch, likely with a bit of a hangover, I really struggled to understand what I was watching. Though each character spoke English, some of the words and phrases they used did not align with any references I recognized, and I spent most of the movie just trying to decipher the dialogue. I am not sure what I expected; I did not know anything about A Clockwork Orange outside of it being directed by Stanley Kubrick and apparently having numerous references to “ultra violence”. So, my initial viewing felt like a noisy jumble. I did not like it and never felt compelled to give it another go.
Fast-forward 20 years to my current slow burn through AFI’s list, and the ghosts of my past reappear. During the intervening two decades, my cinematic palette has evolved and matured. I also try to avoid hangovers whenever possible since they now take more than a lazy day on a shady dorm couch to overcome. Still the reluctant viewer, however, I had to give myself a pep talk before hitting the play button.
“Okay, you’re going to turn the movie on as background. You don’t have to devote your full attention to it; you’ve already seen it. Just get through it, tap out a few words so the world knows you did it, and then you’re on to Tootsie and Unforgiven. It can’t be as bad as you remember; it’s supposed to be a classic! Kubrick did it! What, you think you’re better than Kubrick?”
(For the record, no, I do not think I am better than Kubrick. He made films that persevered across decades; I simply watch them and throw an opinion out there that nobody has to care about.)
After that inspirational “pump me up”, I hit “play” and buckled up, and you know what, I actually enjoyed it. Rather than being background noise to whatever activity I deemed more important, I derailed my afternoon by getting fully immersed in the dystopian world that was minimally built yet fully understood, slapped to attention by the preposterous character performances, and visually assaulted by the brash imagery (and, frankly, the nudity – my god I forgot how much there is). Justifying the presence of A Clockwork Orange on AFI’s list, therefore, comes down to defining what constitutes a classic. What are the film’s merits?
First, we can give positive marks for the film’s world building. It manages to transform perception about the civilized world, set in the United Kingdom, with clever writing and set design. There are lines about the growth of lawlessness and new government, visible disrepair of public settings and living establishments, and a sparseness of population that makes the viewer go, “I understand this world, but yet it is unfamiliar to me.” The journey through the film and its various settings feels futuristically eccentric, even will the abundance Seventies’ décor and style. There is perpetually something off about how people interact with one another that keeps everything slightly uncomfortable throughout. That is the world created for A Clockwork Orange, and it is beautifully done through a minimalistic touch.
Second, the characters are memorable and bombastic. While there are a couple purposely subdued performances, most performers contort with exaggerated movement and expression while pouring cunning and venom into their lines. While the world building provides the canvas, the characters are the colors and their interactions the brushstrokes that give this film life. The colors are vibrant, and the brushstrokes vary from exquisite attention to detail to a toddler’s finger painting. The mesh of these styles and moments are vital to giving the film its pulse and life. In the end, A Clockwork Orange is nothing without so many over-the-top performances.
Third, with world building providing the canvas and the characters and their interactions being the colors and brushstrokes, the final component to qualify for classic-dom is the story. Now that the act of painting is complete, what is the finished product? If you have read my other posts on the AFI 100, you know that I do not go down the rabbit hole trying to unravel the intent and theory behind art, but that does not mean I do not think about it. In the end, whether a viewer understands the filmmaker’s intentions is irrelevant. While the filmmaker would probably be disgusted by their work being interpreted incorrectly, as long as the viewer feels something, the film was impactful. While I felt only confusion with my first screening, this viewing was consumed with that matured palette and a clear head, and that allowed me to see there are potentially several paths of discourse that could be pursued in analyzing this film’s message and purpose. For me, A Clockwork Orange highlighted the dependent bond between choice and outcome, where, very clearly, choices have outcomes or consequences. The spin is that Malcolm McDowell’s Alex, or 655321, faces negative consequences in the presence of choice, and when choice is taken away, still encounters negative consequences with little or no ability to change them. Holding onto that perception, there is a broader discussion that can be applied to society or humanity, perhaps at a fundamental level acknowledging that the world has its good and bad. And, even if individuals are forced to fit a mold that only reinforces acceptable behavior, that does not eliminate the capacity for bad actions; it simply makes them frowned upon or illegal. If a classic must have a deeper meaning or message, I guess we can check that box.
While accomplishment in the three components of world building, character richness, and message or purpose elevates A Clockwork Orange to worthiness, it is also worth mentioning that a fourth category could be considered. Visually, the film is mesmerizing. It is in the visual arena that Kubrick’s style and legacy stands out. The framing and approach to highlighting character movements, expressions, and interactions fuel the film’s eccentricities while helping enhance the characters’ richness. Character movements can, at times, feel wild and random, but they always progress with intentionality and coalesce into a purposeful contribution to the scene. In fact, I noticed several shots (as well as a couple soundtrack segments) that have a twin in The Shining. If something is effective, may as well get the extra mileage out of it.
Okay, we can allow A Clockwork Orange on AFI’s list, but I would not want to see it any higher than 70, and that is still a difficult pill to swallow knowing it ranks above Saving Private Ryan, even if only by one spot. I certainly appreciated the film this time, a night and day difference from my first fuzzy viewing. There is a lot of entertainment to be had, but it is still a wild fever dream trip that does not, in 2023, jump out as something many would take the time to enjoy. If not for AFI’s list, I certainly would not have given the film a second chance. There is, however, plenty to make and keep A Clockwork Orange iconic, from ultra violence to Ludwig Van.

