8 A.M. Sunday, 12th of January, 2014. HAL'S birthday. I'm tired as fuck.

HAL.

IBM.

HAL/IBM. HAL=IBM. IBM=HAL.

H+1 = I
A+1 = B
L+1 = M

So HAL is indisputably IBM. Just go one letter on in the alphabet from H, A and L and you get I, B and M. 

But what is IBM? A computer company Kubrick had a grudge against? Or are we just missing a "T" in the greatest riddle known to mankind? Confused? Allow me to demonstrate.

IBM
I= 9th letter of the alphabet.
B= 2nd letter of the alphabet.
M= 13th letter of the alphabet.

9+2+13= 24.

X= 24th letter of the alphabet.

X= 10 in Roman numerals, so IBM= 10.

HAL
H=…

Ever since I joined Letterboxd, nothing has scared me more than the idea of trying to write about 2001: A Space Odyssey. The fact that everything has "already been said" about this masterpiece has itself already been said so many times that there's not even an original means of expressing my lack of originality left at my disposal. So with the knowledge that I will probably never be able to fully encapsulate what makes this my favorite movie of all time—let alone say something truly unique about it—here is a small list of a few things I love about it.

I love that the monolith has remained an enigmatic symbol capable of being read in any number of different ways…

I've had this movie on Blu-Ray for maybe 4 years now and I've always been worried to watch it because it seemed like something I had to be in "the right mood" for. When a friend told me it was playing at the Arclight in 70mm, I said "fuck the mood" and bought myself a ticket, presuming that a 70mm theater screening is the best way to see this thing.

Honestly? I still don't know if that's true. It felt like a huge experience. But this is the second time I've seen a 70mm movie in theaters (the first time being The Hateful Eight) and both times I came away thinking: it doesn't really look better to me. And with…

I had a disclaimer at the top of this review but everybody went off telling me how wrong I was anyway, so scrap that, you'll just have to remember that this is merely one person's opinion and that we're all entitled to one.

First of all, I like Kubrick's films, love some of them in fact, but I can't even pretend to like this one. Of course I understand the influence this film had on the industry in its time, but that doesn't mean that I found it enjoyable.

It was heavy breathing and scenes of nothing (pretty nothing, nevertheless) against epic music, or sometimes even just a creepy choir, for 140 minutes straight. I wanted to switch it off…

Everything that could have possibly been written about this film pretty much has been by now. So instead of reviewing 2001: A Space Odyssey, I'm just going to say - if you love 2001 as much as I do, here are some other films that you might enjoy:

- The Tree of Life (2011), dir. Terrence Malick
- Solaris (1972), dir. Andrei Tarkovsky
- Baraka (1992), dir. Ron Fricke
- Werckmeister Harmonies (2000), dir. Bela Tarr
- Under the Skin (2013), dir. Jonathan Glazer
- The Double Life of Veronique (1991), dir. Krzysztof Kieslowski
- It's Such a Beautiful Day (2012), dir. Don Hertzfeldt
- Angel's Egg (1985), dir. Mamoru Oshii
- Enter the Void (2009), dir. Gaspar Noe
-…

“I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.”

In the beginning was the Monolith, and the Monolith was with God, and the Monolith was God.

From where had the Monolith derived? It scarcely mattered. If it had always been there, then it had come from nowhere. It simply was. The nothing from which everything sprang. The animating stimulus that drove the amoeba to split in two. The force of nature that extinguished the great lizards not inclined toward avian salvation. The spark of ingenuity that made the ape stand upright and realize its potential for violent innovation.

The Monolith was not “natural” in any traditional…

100

A few notes on the Christopher Nolan-supervised 'unrestored' 70mm print:

- First off, it was indescribably gorgeous. Deep, limitless blacks, sharp and distinct range of colors, and off-the-chart clarity. 65mm photography doesn't merely allow for a greater appreciation of the composition or the 'look' - it frees up each individual element to be its finest, most perfect self. Want to focus on faces? Go ahead. In it for the location and set design? It's all yours. Fascinated by gestural details and minutiae? Knock yourself out. 2001: A Space Odyssey, in 70mm, from sound to image and presentation, allows the art to fully speak for itself.

- That thought and consideration is so beautiful to me, so I was a…

finally saw. idk why i waited so long. wanted to see since high school but for some reason i wanted to wait. (honestly the reason being is one of my pals saw it in nolans unrestored 70mm print, and i wanted to duplicate that experience and felt it was only right to see it in theaters in that fashion.) but due to recent events and me being impatient after the years, i finally decided to watch it on my great 16 inch macbook. its a masterpiece, but with so many damn flaws. and i really love that for some reason. (first time i ever said something like this. feeling weird) i saw this take in a lot of other reviews…

Kubrick made a philosophical statement about man's place in the universe, using images as those before him had used words, music, or prayer. And he had made it in a way that invited us to contemplate it -- not to experience it vicariously as entertainment, as we might in a good conventional science-fiction film, but to stand outside it as a philosopher might, and think about it.

In the first several scenes, prehistoric apes, confronted by a mysterious black monolith, teach themselves that bones can be used as weapons, and thus discover their first tools. The smooth artificial surfaces of the monolith touched by the apes, which was obviously made by intelligent beings, triggered the realization in an ape brain…