CAN YOU PATCH ME THROUGH ROOM 237, PLEASE

Room 237 is a documentary by Rodney Ascher released in January 2012. The film is a discussion of Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. The film basically offers several perspectives on Kubrick's film that may have eluded previous criticism. As a fan of the film, it was obvious I would become interested in this and got myself a copy once it came out. I've seen it twice so far, so I thought I'd give you my impressions.

The film is built on a series of film clips (mostly taken from Kubrick's work, and others), along with relevant clips of the film in question with off-camera comments by the participants. In turn, each of these participants offer their own interpretations and observations based on relevant study of the work in question. Nevertheless, in many ways, the film goes off the deep end and somewhat fails as a piece of serious cinematic criticism. The main reason is that, while theories are presented left, right and center, very few serious evidence of what these people say make it on screen. Except, of course, for the most serious and previously documented ones. Others are plainly ludicrous.

Particularly Jay Weidner's assertions that Kubrick used The Shining as a soapbox to denounce his involvement in faking the Apollo XI moon landing in 1969 (made with full backing of the US government, of course, while he was busy with 2001), peppering the film with references to that effect. I do hope there will come a time when conspiracy theories such as this will go the way of the dinosaurs (note to self : don't hold your breath, kiddo!) and I have long ceased to find them interesting, fascinating or even plausible. Debating the very point on the very day of Neil Armstrong's death left me with a bad taste in the mouth, so you can guess how bad I feel about this (For the record I do not believe in a nanosecond that disbelieving a conspiracy theory is proof that such a conspiracy exist. Not in the very least).

Other points of view are more insteresting yet very little in actual evidence are presented on screen. For instance, Geoffrey Cocks maintains that The Shining is littered with references to the Holocaust. Unfortunately, all he can offer is a German typewriter. German typewriters do not a Holocaust make. This is sad, because it is true that Kubrick has always been fascinated by that particular event, and in the 1990s he attempted to bring his own vision of the Holocaust in the aborted Aryan Papers project (he abandoned it following the release of Schindler's List. His widow, Christiane Kubrick, said he was actually relieved as the project left him totally depressed. Wonder why?). The spectres of Germany's past have certainly found their way in many of his films, and Shining certainly must contain some references to it, yet all Cocks can offer us is that typewriter. He also makes a references that the baggages the Torrances bring too many bagages the Overlook, recalling concentration camp victims bringing their belongings at their « new home ». I wish Cocks could have elaborated on this a bit more substantially.

Bill Blakemore's theories that the film makes constant references to the extermination of the Native Americans by European settlers has been well documented elsewhere, most importantly on his own website and Kubrick does indeed offers Native American motifs throughout the film (that and the fact that the Overlook was built on an Indian burial ground, a detail not found in King's novel).

For me, however, the most fascinating aspects are in the technical details. Juli Kearns, for instances, takes us around the Overlook and we realise that the set designs are a cornucopia of false corridors, false hallways and false doors (something Rod Ager also does on his website, though he's not in the movie) and, more to the point, that notorious false window in Ullman's office. Both Kearns and Ager maintains that this was done deliberately to confuse viewers, because (and this is something that permeates all comments in Room 237) Kubrick was too much of a control-freak, spent too much time preparing his movies to the tiniest of details that he was incapable of making such obvious mistakes.

Let's see. Do I believe that the bizarre Overlook sets were done deliberately? Why, yes I do. Obviously. Do I believe it was done specifically to confuse viewers and give the impression that the Overlook is a dark, mysterious place full of twists and turns? Not necessarily.

See Stanley Kubrick and his production designer Roy Walker made a film set, not an actual hotel where real people could live in. The strange spatial arrangements, in my opinion, are merely there to convey space and give the impression that the Torrances are actually living in a large, spatious hotel. And, yes, the interior designs doesn't really match the exterior of the hotel (filmed at a real one, the Timberline Lodge), but see Kubrick, despite his stature, never had unlimited money and unlimited time to make his films, so yes, even for him some corners had to be cut. On the other hand, Kubrick could chose which corners to cut making it all the more interesting for amateur critics like ourselves (it still doesn't explain Ullman's fake window, however).

Finally, even more fascinating are John Fell Ryan's analyses. What he did is play the film simultaneously backwards and forwards, surimposed. Many scenes seem to match one another in a most surreal fashion. For instance, the scene where Jack and Grady talk in the men's room, perfectly match a scene of Danny, wide eyed and visibly unnerved giving the impression that he « shines » about this particular encounter. If you watch the film this way, it gives even more power to Danny's ESP as he is literally able to « shine » the entire film before it happens.Wow!

So, would I recommend Room 237 for your approval? Well, yes, sure. It is well-made, some of the points are interesting and the whole thing is certainly a labour of love for anyone involved, however as a serious piece of criticism of a major modern filmmaker it fails because it focuses too much on the pet theories of the participants rather than an ecompassing work on a much misunderstood film. If we use Occam's Rasor, it is clear that Kubrick's intentions was to make a horror film because A) he'd never made one before, B) he needed a commercial commodity for his next project following the box office failure of Barry Lyndon and C) he wanted to put his own stamp on a well known genre much like he did with war movies and science-fiction ones. On that, we can all agree he succeeded admirably.