Monday, August 15, 2016

Dr. Strangelove (Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb)

Kubrick’s classic Cold War satire about an accidental nuclear war caused by the frighteningly realistic incompetence of the American military, government, and basically everyone else

Director: Stanley Kubrick
Year Released: 1964

Grade: B+ (87/100)

So far in this project I have encountered movies that are well-beloved by many, movies that filmmakers and other famous smart people frequently refer to as their inspirations or personal favorites. While I’ve definitely met people who don’t care for movies as famous and influential as, say, Casablanca, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone who didn’t really like Dr. Strangelove. This makes me feel a little bit guilty, because as much as I enjoyed Kubrick’s satirical take on the Cold War, a time so ridiculous that none of the parodies are so removed from reality that they feel over-the-top, I felt like I didn’t really love or get it as much as, say, my father, who forbade me from watching it without him and left the DVD on the counter every evening as a reminder to watch it. Maybe I haven’t seen enough war films to really appreciate seeing someone like George C. Scott get so silly, or to understand the lingo or maybe just the way planes work. Maybe it just wasn’t my style, you know? Either way, I wasn’t necessarily disappointed by Dr. Strangelove, but I was a little underwhelmed compared to what I had expected, considering the degree to which it’s been hyped up.

Obviously its shining light is Peter Sellers who, as always, delivers three fine performances, each so diverse that he's practically unrecognizable in each (some, certainly, more than others). I appreciate the relationship between Sellers and Kubrick, a really trusting connection in which the director truly allows his muse to perform liberally and richly. As someone whose understanding of comedy is to a certain extent rooted in improv, I like Kubrick's idea to let actors improvise dialogue (a comedy technique that I find to produce the most naturally funny results most of the time), as well as his unabashed use of footage he promised would never make it into the final film, such as most of George C. Scott's scenes, which he claimed were only "warm up exercises" in an attempt to loosen up the mood. It is, however, a shame to me that Scott was so unhappy about his scenes in the movie because they're all so good and so funny. I'm not sure if they would have been even funnier if I'd seen Patton beforehand, but no one in 1964 had either, so there you have it.

I have so many feelings about George C. Scott in this movie. He's such a genius. It's almost possible to overlook the work done by Sellers when you become so absorbed in how attractive Scott is as an actor and a character, giving a performance that is at the same time over-the-top melodramatic and brilliantly subtle, combining huge and loud body language with revealing facial expressions that say more than words. Everything he does and says is hilarious in a comedic way and in a dramatic way, which makes him the most important and effective character in this wild film of many faces.

Dr. Strangelove is a lot of things, among those a genuinely funny movie and a freakishly effective political satire that takes black comedy to a heightened level. Each individual character is familiar, whether a direct parody of a real political figure (like Sellers's portrayal of President Merkin Muffley, an obvious play on President Harry Truman), or just evoking the kind of Cold War-era nutcases who convinced themselves of improbable conspiracy theories during a time in which the end of the world felt imminent (best shown in the character of General Ripper, played by Sterling Hayden). The big humor component lies in these characters (or rather caricatures) who do not know that they are being ridiculous. It's funny to contemporary viewers because we marvel at a time in which grown ups could be so crazy, and it's funny to original viewers because of its frightening relevancy. And it treads a very fine line between a subject matter that's funny and one that's scary- perhaps that aids in its effectiveness as a satire.

An exercise in histrionics and subtlety 
Moments that made me laugh out loud in this film include the scene in which Scott falls over and gets right back up as if nothing had happened, the former Nazi Dr. Strangelove's inability to control his mechanical heil-ing hand, pretty much anything Slim Pickins says (especially given the dramatic irony of the actor not knowing his film was a comedy), and, of course, the improvised phone conversation between the American President Muffley and the Russian premiere Dmitri. These moments just begin to scratch the surface of what Dr. Strangelove does right. Though I feel in my gut that I would need to watch it a few more times to truly resonate with those for whom this film is legendary and beloved, I felt as though my first time watching Dr. Strangelove was enough to convince me not only of the immense body of acting talent made up by Peter Sellers and George C. Scott alone, but also to demonstrate, once again, Kubrick's ability to create movies that stand alone as unique masterpieces while still fitting into a quilt of his own brilliant creative narrative. 

I own Dr. Strangelove on DVD, but it can also be rented on Amazon for $3.99 or purchased, I'm sure, at your local video store.