Introduction
Director Stanley Kubrick is mostly known for the memorable quality of the images in his films. The Korova Milk Bar in A Clockwork Orange. Jack Nicholson frozen to death in an outdoor hedge maze at the end of The Shining. Perhaps most famously, the apeman throwing a bone in the air which turns into a spaceship in 2001: A Space Odyssey.
What gets less attention is Kubrick’s use of dialogue. The fact that much of it appears to be banal, sometimes even pointless can be a reason for this. However, the precision with which Kubrick creates his images is clearly matched by his use of dialogue. This article will look at Kubrick’s use of dialogue, focusing on three screenplays for which he was the primary author: The Shining, A Clockwork Orange and 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Chitchat as a Counterpoint to Horror in The Shining
Most horror films begin with a “normal” situation: a bunch of high school students looking forward to the prom or a young woman and her husband moving into an apartment building looking forward to the bourgeois life they are going to lead. It is necessary to show this normal situation in order for the audience to appreciate what the supernatural forces in the film are attacking, to set up the fact that what is at stake is nothing less than ordinary human existence.
In the first few pages of The Shining, we are introduced to the main characters (Jack, his wife Wendy and their son Danny) and the situation (they will spend several months looking after an isolated hotel). The dialogue in this section of the film is ordinary to the point of banality:
“ULLMAN: Bill, I’d like you to meet Jack Torrence.
“WATSON: How do you do?
“JACK: Bill, how do you do?
“WATSON: Pleased to meet you.
“JACK: Pleasure to meet you.” (Kubrick, undated, R1, p7) [1]
In linguistics, this is known as “phatic communication.” Phatic language is made up of phrases which have no information content. The purpose of phatic communication is to open lines of communication (as when we say, “Hello” at the beginning of a conversation) and to reaffirm social relationships (when we ask somebody how they have been doing, we are reminding them that we know them well enough to be concerned).
Phatic communication is common in everyday life. It rarely exists, however, in the movies, and when it does it invariably is kept to the shortest possible exchange. This is necessary because, of course, time in film is a precious commodity, unlike life, where it is plentiful. Everything in a film must carry information so that the greatest impact can be created in the shortest time period.
Kubrick knows this, of course. It seems that his use of such banal dialogue is intended to exaggerate the conventional horror story opening. Yet there is more to it than that. With a typical horror film, much of the dialogue in the latter part of the film revolves around convincing authorities that the horror is real (everything from Halloween to Invasion of the Bodysnatchers) or discussing ways to survive (Alien). It is, in short, highly purposive. Yet, in The Shining, banal conversation continues throughout the film. Consider this example from late in the screenplay:
“JACK: What are you doing down here?
“WENDY: I just eh…wanted…to talk to you.
“JACK: Okay. Let’s talk. What do you want to talk about?
“WENDY: I…I can’t really remember.
“JACK: You can’t remember.
“WENDY: No, I can’t.
“JACK: “Maybe it was about Danny. Maybe it was about him. I think we should discuss Danny. I think…we should discuss what to do with him.” (Kubrick, undated, R12, p4/5)
This could be a conversation between any parents who are concerned about their son. However, it comes after several inserted images of bloody mayhem, and ample proof that Jack’s character has slipped into some sort of dementia. In addition, as soon as Jack mentions his son’s name, bloody images are cut into the scene.
Kubrick’s strategy seems to be to develop conversations which seem to be simple, perhaps not leading anywhere, then cap them with something bizarre or violent, a model which occurs in many scenes. Theoretically, the horror shock at the end of the conversation will be greater the more banal the conversation is that preceded it. In fact, for reasons which will become apparent shortly, audiences did not respond this way to The Shining>.
The dialogue in the film was not all banal chitchat, of course. One type of content which is typical the genre is foreshadowing of the horror which is to come. We learn early in the film, for instance, that Jack had a drinking problem (Kubrick, undated, R2, p13), something which will feature prominently in his descent into madness. Wendy and Danny playing in the hedge maze (Kubrick, undated, R5, p5/6) sets up the climactic chase through it late in the film. And so on.
Another thing which creeps into the dialogue is references to other real life horrors and scary stories. At one point, Jack describes the Donner party: “There were a party of settlers in the covered wagon times. They got snowbound one winter in the mountains. They had to resort to cannibalism in order to stay alive.” (Kubrick, undated, R3, p2) Since it had been established early in the film that the Torrence family would be completely isolated, this line of dialogue might be interpreted by an audience member as foreshadowing a cannibal story. In the same vein, there are references to the hotel being built on Indian burial grounds (Kubrick, undated, R3, p8) and ghost ships (Kubrick, undated, R4, p9).
On a newscast, we hear that “Rutherford was serving a life sentence for his conviction in the 1968 shooting and the search continues in the mountains near Uray today for that missing Aspen woman, twentyfour [sic] year old Susan Robertson has been missing ten days.” (Kubrick, undated, R5, p6/7) This suggests an isolated family being attacked by a maniacal killer from the outside scenario which doesn’t materialize (in The Shining, the maniacal killer is a member of the family). Finally, Jack says to himself, “God, I’d give anything for a drink? My goddam soul, just a glass of beer.” (Kubrick, undated, R8, p3) Since a bartender (who could not possibly exist at the hotel) suddenly appears to satisfy Jack’s craving, one might assume that The Shining is actually a story about a man making a Faustian bargain. However, the evidence suggests that Jack’s madness began when he started writing at the hotel (particularly, the manuscript with its endless repetitions of “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”), long before he invoked the name of the devil.
One or two references to other horror stories might be considered red herrings, something to divert the audience’s attention so that the main story doesn’t become too obvious. This can have the effect of heightening the horror by making it less expected, more surprising. However, the large number of references to other genre stories are hard to take seriously, suggesting that Kubrick is actually making fun of the horror genre. In this light, the exaggerated banality of much of the dialogue of the film can be interpreted as a parody of one aspect of horror films.
This becomes clear in the climactic scene, where Jack, now fully demented, chases Wendy and Danny with an axe with the intention of killing and dismembering them. Trying to break into the bathroom to which Wendy has temporarily escaped, he gleefully says, “Wendy, I’m home.” (Kubrick, undated, R14, p4) This is clearly a reference to the family sitcoms of the 1950s and 60s, in which the father would announce his presence. Jack then recites a nursery rhyme “Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in! Not by the hair on your chinny, chin, chin. Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in.” (Kubrick, undated, R14, p5/6) This is a bizarre juxtaposition of childhood innocence and adult violence. Finally, in perhaps the most famous line of the film,Jack sticks his head in a hole he has hacked out of the door and gleefully exclaims “Here’s Johnny!” (Kubrick, undated, R14, p7), a reference to the introduction of a famous talk show host. Although it can be argued that they perfectly embody Jack’s dementia, these cultural references tend to play as humour, undermining the tension in the scene.
Kubrick seems to be attempting to create a complex work which both acts as a horror film (with the required scenes of flowing blood and dismembered bodies) and parodies or deconstructs horror as a genre. Close to 30 years ago, in an age which was not drenched in irony, audiences did not know how to read this combination of elements. Now, we can see that The Shining is a genetic forerunner of Scream and its imitators.
Futuristic Chitchat in A Clockwork Orange
Anthony Burgess’ novel A Clockwork Orange, set at an undetermined point in the future, is about an adolescent leader of an antisocial gang who, while in prison, agrees to undergo a treatment which purports to be able to cure him of his violent impulses.
Stanley Kubrick’s adaptation is faithful, in many ways, to the novel. In particular, Kubrick has filled his film with a youth slang which Burgess had created for his futuristic world. In some cases, the meaning of the words could be understood from the context of the sentence in which they were placed. For instance, when Alex says “There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie and Dim and we sat in the Korova milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening,” (Kubrick, September 7 ,1970, 1) we can figure out that droogs are friends or fellow gang members and rassoodocks are minds. [2]
It is even possible to see the etymological development of some words. “Viddy well, my little Brother. Viddy well,” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 10) says Alex. Viddy, which means look or see, is obviously derived from video, which must be looked at to be seen.
Much of the time, however, it simply isn’t possible to know what some of the words are intended to mean. What are we to make of Alex’ following voice over: “As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures. There were vecks and ptitsas lying on the ground screaming for mercy and I was smecking all over my rot and grinding my boot into their tortured litsos and there were naked devotchkas ripped and creeching against walls and I plunging like a shlaga into them?” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 15) As with phatic communications, this is no longer language used to communicate symbolic ideas; the rhythm of the words, as well as the intonation, carry the meaning of such language to audiences.
The language is a means of distancing the auditor from the violence of the book and the film. Burgess makes this clear in his introduction to a 25th anniversary edition of the book: “I have shown enough, though the curtain of an invented lingo gets in the way — another aspect of my cowardice. Nadsat, a Russified version of English, was meant to muffle the raw response we expect from pornography. It turns the book into a linguistic adventure.” (Burgess, 1986, x) Kubrick finds cinematic equivalents to this linguistic device, most notoriously, having Alex sing “Singing in the Rain” while attacking a man and raping his wife (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 9/10). [3] However, he also uses language in this way.
This is apparent in the scenes of the Ludovico Treatment, a form of operant conditioning which you can be forgiven for mistaking for torture). Alex is been given a medicine which makes him violently ill when confronted with images of violence; then he is forced to watch violent acts. While this is happening, he explains it in voice over. “The sounds were real horrorshow. You could slooshy the screams and moans very realistic and you could even get the heavy breathing and panting of the tolchocking malchicks at the same time. And then, what do you know, soon our dear old friend, the red, red vino on tap. The same in all places like it’s put out by the same big firm, began to flow. It was beautiful. It’s funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on a screen.” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 59) Using this sort of device, Kubrick allows the audience to understand what is happening intellectually, without turning away in emotional revulsion.
In A Clockwork Orange, this kind of language is contrasted to what I call “Kubrick Officialese,” the language of academics and bureaucrats. For instance, while Alex undergoes the Ludovico Treatment, one doctor gives the following commentary to other doctors in the room: “Very soon now the drug will cause the subject to experience a death like paralysis together with deep feelings of terror and helplessness. One of our early test subjects described it as being like death, a sense of stifling or drowning, and it is during this period we have found that the subject will make his most rewarding associations between his catastrophic experience environment and the violence he sees.” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 61) Again, this distances the viewer emotionally from what is happening onscreen, while allowing him or her to understand it intellectually.
Employing the two very different types of speech for the same narrative purpose also suggests an equivalency between them. Nadsat and the doctor’s speech are both used to determine who does and doesn’t belong to the groups of their respective speakers.
Kubrick Officialese is a common thread running through much of the director’s work. Some of the most obvious examples appear in Dr. Strangelove, which he cowrote with Terry Southern and Peter George. Scenes in the cockpit of the bomber, for instance, contain such scintillating dialogue as:
“Navigator: Target orange grid reference, checks. Target distance, eight miles.
“Copilot: Roger, eight miles. Telemetric guidance computer into orange grid.
“Bombardier: Telemetric guidance computer into orange grid.
“Navigator: Target distance, seven miles. Correct track indicator, minus seven.
“Copilot: Roger. Seven miles. Set GPI acceleration factor.
“Bombardier: GPI diversion factor set.
“Navigator: Target distance, six miles.
“Copilot: Roger. Six miles. False ident transponder active.
“Bombardier: False ident transponder active.
“Navigator: Target distance, five miles.
“Copilot: Five miles. Bundling alignment factor zero mode.
“Bombardier: Bundling alignment factor to zero mode.
“Navigator: Target distance, four miles.
“Copilot: Roger. Four miles. Auto CDC into manual teleflex link.
“Bombardier: Auto CDC is to manual teleflex link.
“Navigator: Target distance, three miles.
“Copilot: Roger. Three miles.
“Navigator: Target in sight. Where in hell is Major Kong?” (Kubrick, Southern, George, undated, unpaginated)
This dialogue communicates little to most viewers, who will not be able to penetrate the jargon. What it does do is suggest that the human crew of the bomber are operating with the same ruthless efficiency as the “Doomsday Machine” which will go off if the bomb is dropped, making the surface of the earth uninhabitable for 100 years. This heightens the tension in the film, since it gives the dropping of the bomb an inevitability.
Officialese also creeps into the discussions in the War Room. After the bomb has been dropped, Dr. Strangelove suggests that humanity can continue if a select group of people live underground in the shafts of mines until the radiation dissipates. This sets off warning signals for hawkish General Turgidson: “I mean, we must be… increasingly on the alert to prevent them from taking over other mineshaft space, in order to breed more prodigiously than we do, thus, knocking us out in superior numbers when we emerge! Mr. President, we must not allow… a mine shaft gap!” (Kubrick, Southern, George, undated, unpaginated) The continuation of Cold War rhetoric after the world has been destroyed is darkly funny. It also indicates that the destructive mindset which is reflected in that rhetoric has little relation to reality, suggesting that our leaders are completely out of control.
One form of semi-official language is the list. In Dr. Strangelove, for instance, Major Kong, the pilot of the bomber, ticks off the contents of a survival kit: “Survival Kit contents check. In them you will find: one 45 caliber automatic, two boxes of ammunition, four days concentrated emergency rations, one drug issue containing antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills, one miniature combination Rooshan phrase book and Bible, one hundred dollars in rubles, one hundred dollars in gold, nine packs of chewing gum, one issue of prophylactics, three lipsticks, three pair of nylon stockings — shoot, a fellah could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff….” (Kubrick, Southern, George, undated, unpaginated) The joke, which, as so many jokes in the film do, covers a harsh truth, is that the American government has give its soldiers wildly inadequate tools for survival in a world devastated by nuclear war (because, of course, such a world is unthinkable).
In The Shining, Halloran, giving Wendy a tour of the hotel, lists what can be found in the pantry: “In here, Mrs. Torrance, is where we keep all the dried and the canned goods. We got canned fruits and vegetables; canned fish and meats; hot and cold cereals. Post Toasties, Cornflakes, Sugar Puffs, Rice Crispies, Oatmeal, Wheatina and cream of wheat. We got a dozen jugs of black molasses, we got sixty boxes of dried milk…” (Kubrick, undated, R4, p5/6) Just as the audience is lulled into a stupor by the list of available goods (of which this is only a part), Halloran “shines” Danny, hinting that the boy has great psychic powers. As we have seen, this is part of Kubrick’s strategy of mixing the banal with the supernatural in the film.
A list even appears in A Clockwork Orange. When Alex is imprisoned, the Chief Guard announces a list of his possessions: “One bar of chocolate. One bunch of keys with white metal ring. One packet of cigarettes. Two plastic ball pens — one black, one red. One pocket comb — black plastic. One address book — imitation red leather. One ten penny piece. One white metal wristlet watch, “Timawrist” on a white metal expanding bracelet.” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 37) Although it is not explained in the film, a clockwork orange is a human being who acts like a machine, devoid of free will. Alex, after having gone through the Ludovico Treatment, becomes one. The use of official language by authority figures in the film suggests that they have become clockwork oranges themselves.
Finally, as in The Shining, there are scenes in A Clockwork Orange where the dialogue is completely banal. One example should suffice:
“Inspector: Sergeant.
“Sergeant: Sir.
“Inspector: Ah, good evening, Mr. Deltoid.
“Deltoid: Evening, Inspector.
“Sergeant: Would you like your tea now, sir?
“Inspector: No, thank you, Sergeant. We’ll have it later. May I have some paper towels, please.
“Sergeant: Yes, sir.” (Kubrick, September 7, 1970, 32)
No story development takes place in this exchange. However, it does give a good sense of the routine in the prison where it takes place. In addition, scenes like this are a necessary respite from the film’s violence for audience members, a place where they can catch their breath before new horrors arise.
Chitchat as Complete Narrative Strategy in 2001: A Space Odyssey
Kubrick and science fiction author Arthur C. Clarke co-wrote the screenplay for the epic film 2001: A Space Odyssey, based on Clarke’s short story “The Sentinel.” The film is divided into three sections: an opening part where ancient ape men confront a mysterious alien monolith, which seems to endow them with the intelligence necessary to ensure their survival. In the second section, taking place on the eponymous date, human beings find a second monolith buried on the moon, which sends a signal into the cosmos. In the final section, a space mission is sent to Jupiter ostensibly for scientific study, but actually to rendezvous with a third monolith in orbit around one of its moons; it is in this section that the HAL computer goes berserk and threatens the life of the human crew.
Phatic communication is the main purpose of dialogue in 2001. As Kubrick has stated in an interview: “I tried to work things out so that nothing important was said in dialogue, and that anything important in the film be translated in terms of action.” (Agel, 1970, 292) Thus, there is no comprehensible dialogue in the first section, where the ape men at the dawn of time fight for survival (although we can follow the story of their encounter with the monolith easily enough without it). In addition, long stretches of the sections which are futuristic take place in space, or other silent place. [4]
Moreover, the original screenplay contained a series of long voice over narrations which were excised from the film. After the Discovery space ship found the third monolith, the narrator intoned: “For two million years, it had circled Saturn [changed to Jupiter in the film], awaiting a moment of destiny that might never come. In its making, a moon had been shattered and around the central world, the debris of its creation orbited yet — the glory and the enigma of the solar system. Now, the long wait was ending. On yet another world intelligence had been born and was escaping from its planetary cradle. An ancient experiment was about to reach its climax… Those who had begun the experiment so long ago had not been men. But when they looked out across the deeps of space, they felt awe and wonder — and loneliness.” (Kubrick and Clarke, 1-3-66, D1/D2) [5] If this elegiac passage sounds, well, novelistic, it’s probably because it appears almost word for word in Clarke’s novelization of the film (Clarke, 1968, 186), which was written at the same time. What fascinates on the page would likely have been ponderous as film narration, though.
One scene which was also omitted from the final film would have helped make sense of something which ultimately was not explained: HAL’s attack on the Discovery’s crew. After Bowman has shut HAL down in the screenplay, he receives a message from Earth telling him that the computer had been instructed to withhold the true nature of the ship’s mission from he and Poole, the two astronauts who had not been frozen. “We believe his [HAL’s] truth programming and the instructions to lie, gradually resulted in an incompatible conflict, and faced with this dilemma, he developed, for want of a better description, neurotic symptoms.” (Kubrick and Clarke, 1-3-66, C121)
This explanation of HAL’s “behaviour” eventually made its way into the sequel to 2001, the generally uninspired 2010. Its omission from the original film, however, makes it much scarier. Trapped in a spaceship far from home, astronauts are menaced by an inhuman force, an irresistible recipe for horror. In fact, 2001 could be the grandparent of Alien, except that the creature in that film was an unthinking killing machine, while the machine in 2001 was a hyper-rational killing creature.
Of course, there is dialogue in 2001. Much of it has the same phatic quality as the dialogue in The Shining, as in this conversation between an American astronaut and his Russian counterparts in a space station orbiting the moon:
“SMYSLOV: What would you like to drink?
“FLOYD: Oh, I really don’t have time for a drink. If it’s all right I’ll just sit here for a minute and then I’ve got to be off.
“SMYSLOV: Are you quite sure?
“FLOYD: Yes, really, thank you very much.
“ELENA: Well… How’s your lovely wife?
“FLOYD: She’s wonderful.
“ELENA: And your charming little daughter?
“FLOYD: Oh, she’s growing up very fast. As a matter of fact, she’s six tomorrow.
“ELENA: Oh, that’s such a delightful age.” (Kubrick and Clarke, 1-3-66, B29)
There is no subtext of tension between the Americans and the Russians; there are no indications of such tension either before or after this encounter which would give the dialogue such a reading. The effect of this type of dialogue is to make travelling through space as ordinary as a trip to the office.
In addition, Kubrick Officialese appears frequently throughout 2001. He makes it clear that this is his strategy in a stage direction: “A few seats away, Michaels and Halvorsen carry out a very banal administrative conversation in low tones. It should revolve around something utterly irrelevant to the present circumstances and very much like the kind of discussion one hears all the time in other organizations.” (Kubrick and Clarke, 1-3-66, B59)
Kubrick also uses repetition to telling effect in the dialogue in 2001. While outside the Discovery (before he realizes HAL’s murderous intent), Bowman repeats the phrases “Open the pod-bay doors, HAL. Hello, HAL. Do you read me?” (Agel, 1970, no page number) over and over again. The repetition heightens the tension in the scene.
Later in the film, the situation is somewhat reversed: Bowman has managed to get into Discovery and is shutting down HAL. HAL’s response is: “Dave. Stop. Stop. Will you stop, Dave. Stop, Dave. I’m afraid. I’m afraid, Dave. My mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I’m afraid.” (Agel, 1970, 2/3) Again, the repeated dialogue heightens the tension. It does much more than this, though.
One would expect that a computer would have a limited number of phrases at its disposal, and would repeat them endlessly in a given situation. That Bowman does the same suggests that he has become as mechanical as the machine. (This effect is heightened by the fact that the human actors in the film have been directed to deliver their lines with very little emotion.) The comparison cuts both ways: mirroring the repetition of dialogue helps humanize HAL, whose brain death is much more emotionally affecting than, say, the deaths of the six astronauts in hibernation (after all, most of us fear losing our minds, our most precious human quality).
Repetitive dialogue which heightens tension is also used to good effect in the climax of The Shining. Jack and Wendy are wearily circling each other, like boxers looking for an opening to attack. While this is happening, they say things like:
“WENDY: Stay away from me!
“JACK: I’m not going to hurt you.
“WENDY: Stay away from me! Stay away from me! Please…
“JACK: Stop swinging the bat.
“WENDY: Stay away from me.
“JACK: Put the bat down, Wendy.
“WENDY: Stop it!” (Kubrick, undated, R12, p11)
These phrases are repeated for another page in the script before Wendy finally knocks Jack down the staircase using the baseball bat.
Repetition of words and phrases also indicates an obsession on the part of the speaker, an obsession which makes communication difficult. Agel points out that “The uselessness of words when one party is beyond reach shows up throughout Kubrick’s films.” (1970, 287)
Conclusion
Unlike the dialogue in most movies, the dialogue in the films written and directed by Stanley Kubrick often does not contain information which moves the plot forward. This does not, however, mean that it is less purposive. The dialogue in Kubrick’s films, can, among other things: indicate the inner workings of a character (as when repeated dialogue reveals an obsession); heighten tension (as when banal dialogue delays the introduction of, but inevitably leads to a violent act), and; comment on the mechanical nature of some people’s thought (as with some forms of Kubrick Officialese). His brilliant, often innovative use of visual images is well matched by his innovative use of dialogue.
Notes
1) The draft of the screenplay for The Shining with which I was working was the continuity screenplay, which contains a lot of technical information which was irrelevant for this article. I have had to reconstruct the dialogue from this; others using this source might recreate the dialogue in a slightly different form. In addition, the numbers are paginated by reel (so, R8, p1 indicates Reel 8, page 1).
2) It should be allowed, though, that this comes after a reading of the screenplay, which give one time to reflect on such things. In the context of watching a film in a theatre, it might be much harder to figure out the meaning of individual words, even when the context makes them clear.
3) This and other scenes are also cinematic equivalents of literary quotations, which pepper Burgess’ novel.
4) We are conditioned, from Star Trek and other science fiction phenomena, to think of spaceships as having sounds as they travel. In fact, space is close to a vacuum, and it contains, therefore, no medium for sound to travel through. Being true to this, the scenes of spaceships travelling through space in 2001 either employ classical music or are silent. This fidelity to reality actually led to a creation of an astonishing sequence: astronaut Bowman, having left the main ship to recover his friend’s dead body, is essentially locked out by HAL. Kubrick intercuts shots of the astronaut outside the ship, which are silent, with shots inside the astronaut’s faceplate, over which we can hear the sounds of the astronaut breathing heavily. This is an eloquent evocation of the fragility of human beings in the face of the vast emptiness of space.
5) In the screenplay for 2001: A Space Odyssey each section begins with a letter, as well as starting from page 1. I have continued this convention for citations from the screenplay.
Sources Cited
Agel, Jerome, ed. The Making of Kubrick’s 2001. New York: New American Library, 1970.
Burgess, Anthony. A Clockwork Orange. New York: W. W. Norton, 1986.
Clarke, Arthur C. 2001: A Space Odyssey. London: Arrow Books, 1968.
Kubrick, Stanley. A Clockwork Orange. September 7, 1970.
________. The Shining. Undated.
Kubrick, Stanley and Arthur C. Clarke. 2001: A Space Odyssey. 1-3-66.
Kubrick, Stanley, Terry Southern and Peter George. Dr. Strangelove, or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bomb.
This article first appeared in Creative Screenwriting, Volume 6, Number 4, July/August 1999.