Abstract
Skepticism and a Beat generation existentialism direct Stanley Kubrick’s films. Albert Camus wrestles with the absurd; his Sisyphus triumphs through spite. In Kubrick’s films, the absurd goes uncontested. Kubrick conjoins absurdity with the brutishness of human nature. Kubrick’s rebels lack passion, heading nowhere. The immensity of time and space—filling the screen in 2001—reduces our lives to insignificance. Even if plans succeed, with death as our destiny, our goods are banal. Since mortal life lacks significance, living ad infinitum would magnify our absurdity. We may be bound nowhere, but “present pleasure is always of importance,” observes David Hume. What brightens the screen—and Kubrick’s screen is brilliant—is irony. Art depicting life’s absurdity offers consolation. Since the world is vacant, we must fill it ourselves. But this escape is a false door: our projections are arbitrary and never alter the ever-indifferent world.