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Stanley Kubrick: An Indoor-Plumbing Luddite

Stephanie Morgan
Columbus Wired Columnist
9/30/02


Men like Marshall McLuhan pronounce the downfall of civilization in clear terms – in his case, the advent of written language split apart our tribal society forever destroying our close-knit society that was once built upon the need to remain close in order to receive information. Three years after his death, I realize that an artist like Stanley Kubrick is subtler when describing the downfall of civilization.

Best known for films like “2001: A Spacey Odyssey,” “Full Metal Jacket,” and “Eyes Wide Shut,” Kubrick was once one of the famed five directors with “final cut” status. This meant that Kubrick controlled all aspects of the final product – no studio could take a film and recut it to their liking. It was this ability that gave Kubrick the ability to send his message out unfettered by “the man,” who would inevitably try to obscure the message, lest society discover it’s true meaning.

Kubrick presented to us the following: The downfall of civilization was predicated by the advent of indoor plumbing. In other words, as soon as the excrement was permitted in the home, it’s stench began to permeate every aspect of society. There is no need to look that far for the cause to society’s ills – simply look towards your spacious bathroom.

Kubrick’s earliest attempt to convey this message under the studio system failed miserably. For decades, lost on the cutting room floor, was a scene in “Spartacus” where Tony Curtis was giving Spartacus a bath. This was a slave/master relationship that would later shift the balance of power and become a nice piece of “lost footage” for the special edition. I believe this early attempt by the studios to censor Kubrick was the first sign that he was onto something that the establishment wanted quieted right away.

In 1962, “Lolita” brought about the signature “bathrooms are evil” scene that would resonate throughout Kubrick’s film career. In a key scene, Humbert Humbert (James Mason) is in the bathtub when he is told that Lolita’s mother has died. It is alone, in the bathroom, that Humbert decides to take his nymphet fantasy out of his mind and onto the road.

While others busied themselves with the controversy of an underage paramour, the genius of Kubrick’s anti-indoor-plumbing message was left to the wayside. This is the way of most great movements in history – a quiet murmur that slowly but surely raises the volume so that it becomes a roar amongst the populous.

“Dr. Strangelove” saw all hope of mankind’s salvation lost in a bathroom suicide. The bomb is making it to the entire world because one man had the privacy of a bathroom where he could dispose of his life, the codes and the world in one quick action. Fundamentally, I think no film of Kubrick’s comes closer to describing the way that the common bathroom leads an individual to think of everything in terms of instant disposability.

In “2001: A Space Odyssey,” the bathroom makes one brief, but important appearance. On the way to the space station, a passenger stops to survey the bathroom instructions on the wall. Deeming them far too complicated, he walks away from the whole matter. In Kubrick’s only future world, he saw one where the bathroom would eventually cause us to dispose of our base needs.

In Kubrick’s only banned film (in the UK), “A Clockwork Orange,” challenges the audience to view violence as near sport. Our anti-hero, Alex is unapologetically violent. When he is imprisoned and reformed, Alex no longer fits into his ultra-violent world. Stumbling upon a house, he is greeted by the kind, generous sort to which we all aspire. After all, wouldn’t life be better if we were all the sort that believed in the common good? But even if we were, the bathroom is the bearer of the dark side in our kindly person. For when Alex makes the mistake of singing in the tub, our kindly stranger realizes who and what Alex is – in a split second, the kindly stranger is willing to extract an uncivilized revenge to further his own, selfish cause.

Kubrick is thought to have returned to the suicide theme in “Full Metal Jacket,” but here we see the disposal of men as cannon fodder. A grunt on the brink calmly murders his drill sergeant in the bathroom and then turns the gun on himself. Prior to killing himself, he informs the men that it is not he, but they that are in a world of, well…excrement. Coincidence? I think not.

“The Shining?” Well, it wasn’t all “here’s Johnny!” lines. A crucial scene in the film takes place in a bathroom. The young son, Danny, reports strange goings on in the bathroom. John is first tempted, then tormented by the ghost in the bathroom. One minute, John is holding a beautiful naked woman in his arms – she then turns into a rotting, bloated corpse. If that weren’t enough, the hotel men’s room becomes John’s undoing. It is there that he meets his other self, the caretaker that he’s always been. You know, the axe-wielding one.

Kubrick’s final film, “Eyes Wide Shut,” was full of bathroom imagery. Initially, it appeared as if the film would take a decidedly pro-stance on indoor plumbing. After all, we were meeting a husband and wife who were getting ready for an upscale party in the bathroom. As with many a married couple, they were uninhibited in front of one another, completing their entire bathroom routine in front of each other. This was the bait, for it is later in the film that the bathrooms of the wealthy become the dumping ground for overdosing beauty-queen turned prostitute. From there, it simply gets worse for the married couple, for the beauty queen, for the gap between the middle-class and the wealthy, for New York and for Christmas.

Kubrick offers no solution for the problem; he merely points it out. Perhaps like McLuhan, he is only meant to offer an observation about a thing that we cannot turn back. Perhaps the brilliance of his film career eclipsed his true message. We will never know.
 

 

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