HBO Max marks the 50th anniversary of Stanley Kubrick’s classic A Clockwork Orange with A forbidden orange, a documentary account of the first public screening of the film of fire in Spain in 1975. Director Pedro González Bermúdez brings together a group of people involved in making the film overcome the heavy censorship regime of Francisco Franco so that it can be screened in the Valladolid International Film Festival, and even gets OrangeIt is Alex DeLarge himself, Malcolm McDowell, to narrate. Savage, how does a single showing of a movie justify a 77 minute documentary, or not? Let’s find out.
A FORBIDDEN ORANGE: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The essence: We have all seen A Clockwork Orange, right? If not, at least we know from him, its controversial content and images, the discomfort it inspires. McDowell talks about how he spent a grueling but rewarding six months working on the film with Kubrick, a notorious perfectionist; He goes on to say that the film shaped his life. We can see that, and if we have seen it, like in the movie, we understand it. The movie is screwed. It is unforgettable. It is visually stunning. It’s filled with brutal violence and features deeply disturbing rape scenes. It has mountains to say about the media, violence, the human psyche. Nobody likes it”. If it’s your “favorite” movie, you are almost certainly lying. It’s unpleasant, uncomfortable, provocative, and challenging, and it’s a work of art.
Anyway, the documentary. Some context: A Clockwork Orange it was banned in some countries after its release in 1971. Critics called it “morally corrupt” and “a cursed movie.” It was removed from some theaters amid backlash. Not surprisingly there, least of all he didn’t see a single screen in Spain until 1975. The country was under Franco’s fascist rule, and his censors worked hard to stifle the country’s cultural vitality. But in the early 1970s, their grip began to loosen and democratic activists began to back down, organize protests, and inspire worker strikes.
One of the centers of protest was Villadolid, a medium-sized university town in the northwest region of the country with a compelling dynamic: it reflected the conservative values of the surrounding rural communities, but out of its then population of 200,000, 30,000 of them were students. progressive. . Many of the locals loved the escapism that the cinema brought them, so they soon organized an international film festival, which started as a collection of religious films to please the Franco dictatorship based on Catholicism. But when nationalist censors relaxed, the event soon progressed to include Truffaut, Bergman, Bunuel, and the like. And the only movie they really wanted to program? You guessed it – Chitty chitty bang bang. No! It was A Clockwork Orange. But it would not be easy. And it aroused such anticipation, could it ever live up to the expectations?
Which movies will it remind you of ?: You’ll be thankful this isn’t too silly a deep dive into Kubrickdom like Room 237 is.
Performance worth watching: The journalist María Aurora Viloria, when she admits that she loved Orangeand “I found it really funny.”
Diálogo memorable: Viloria: “The city was divided: those who were excited and those who were sitting in front praying the rosary.”
Sex and skin: A couple of haunting clips from A Clockwork Orange.
Our Take: I’ve seen A Clockwork Orange many times. It is a masterpiece that stands out for itself and speaks for itself. And from that perspective, A forbidden orange It’s a bit of a disappointment, a straightforward talking heads documentary with a if only you were there tone that winds in boring minutia about printing tickets and the viewers lining up outside the theater at night to buy them. Bermúdez shows some fun curiosities, for example, a fact about how the Spanish wanted so much to see Kubrick’s film, which the Spanish filmmakers produced A drop of blood to die loving, which was a scam, was nicknamed A mechanical tangerine. The director’s best idea comes at the end, when he interviews a handful of viewers in their twenties before and after seeing the film for the first time, helping to contextualize it here in 2021.
The document is less interesting than the conversations it inspires, but at least it inspires them. It seems crazy, especially in the age of streaming, that so many people went out of their way to show one or two screenings of a single film, some of those lengths imposed by Kubrick himself, who wanted his film displays to be so accurate. . . Was he a dictator? Maybe. But his punishing persecution of his art is something worthy of admiration, insists an interviewee in the documentary. (Shelley Duvall might feel otherwise.)
But their demands were worth putting up with: the theater was packed. Riot police showed up (fortunately they weren’t needed). Organizers ignored a bomb threat that was called midway through the screening. The film HAD to be shown, because it became a political protest, a crack in the levee of fascist control. Bermúdez gets his subjects to say a lot about politics then and now, but it feels repetitive and superficial. Briefly touch on modern political correctness; breezes for a comparison of the open censorship of the 20th century and the subtler censorship of the 21st; he hardly takes the opportunity to reflect on whether a movie like A Clockwork Orange it would even be done today. Compelling stuff, sure, but A forbidden orange Ultimately, it would be better as a longer and more detailed document on the film’s still undulating cultural reverberations, or a shorter and more focused one on that projection so crucial for freedom-hungry Spaniards.
Our calling: STREAM IT. It is far from perfect, but A forbidden orange should arouse interest in the crazy Kubrick (guilty!) and those with a more than passing interest in A Clockwork Orange.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Read more of his work at johnserbaatlarge.com.