Cue “Blue Danube”

Originally written January 26, 2026.

2001: A Space Odyssey looms large in my mind as either the first or second Kubrick film I had ever watched—Full Metal Jacket may have come before—and certainly as one of the most mesmerizing. Here was a lengthy science fiction story that begins not in space but on Earth at the “dawn of man,” where a community of chimpanzees discover the ability to use bones as weapons to hunt and defeat their rivals, before a famous cut transitions us from a bone being tossed through the air to a satellite floating in space. Millions of years, jumped in the blink of an eye.

Revisiting 2001 as part of my chronological run through Kubrick’s filmography makes this mammoth of a film even more impressive. Where before Kubrick had spent the last fifteen or so years honing his skills as a director and telling sharply-written stories, now he was shooting quite literally for the stars. With renowned sci-fi author Arthur C. Clarke helping with the screenplay, Kubrick unleashes a repertoire of visual and audio storytelling flair in a film that is mostly bereft of dialogue.

It’s a true spectacle to behold, with some of the most believable practical effects work that took ingenuity and a high degree of technical know-how to pull off. You might not expect a 1960s film to have believable zero gravity sequences, but 2001pulls it off and then some. Perhaps more so than Kubrick’s previous films, 2001 is a perfect culmination of creative talent across all spectrums.

What a thing it must’ve been to see this in 1968 on the backs of all the pulpy science fiction and futurism that must’ve inspired so many people to think what might lie beyond the stars, to dream about one day gallivanting across the lunar surface—which of course humankind would do just over a year after the film’s release. Impressively—and almost certainly divisively—2001 doesn’t carry many definitive answers. It’s conclusions are opaque, if there even are any, choosing instead to portray outer space as an unknowable, alien thing. Quite literally alien, in this case, but even then only just so. You never see any extraterrestrial creatures in 2001, their existence hinted at only through mysterious black monoliths that carry some sort of radio signal, pointing to somewhere. And there is of course the almost impenetrable ending, a sequence that would seem far more bizarre if not for the two hours of quiet, sometimes strange intrigue that precedes it.

All the while there’s a technological danger threatening our two intrepid astronauts, the first to wake aboard the Discovery ship heading for Jupiter. They begin to lose trust in the HAL 9000 artificial intelligence that keeps the ship running, which of course spurs the AI to act against them with lethal results, thus fulfilling the cycle that began when the first chimpanzee discovered he could use a simple tool to destroy another being.

The use of classical music is a mighty component as well, instilling the graceful movement of spacecraft with an irresistible contrast of old world beauty and the very heights of future human innovation. Getting lost in the charms of 2001 will make it difficult to associate Strauss’ “Blue Danube” waltz with anything other than the majesty of deep space and all the weird, frightening discoveries it may bring.

And that’s where the strengths of 2001 ultimately lie. It takes the unconscionable scale of the universe, adds some familiar elements to make it feel tangible, and isolates you in a place that no one else can witness or understand. Humanity traveled a very long path from bone-wielding primates to space-traveling adventurers, but in the reaches of that immense void there may no longer be a clear path forward. Do we belong out there? Are we meant to be out there? The novel that Clarke penned to coincide with the film may have some clearer answers, but in Kubrick’s telling your guess is as good as mine.