Ojos bien cerrados

The thing a lot of folks haven't liked about Stanley Kubrick's films is the fact that he always seemed to think the audience needed some points driven home a little harder than others. Very little is left for debate; most everything is spelled out, pressed hard, and dwelled upon. His critics have compared the long waits between his films to the long periods of waiting that occur while watching his films.

Personally, I like the long, slow scenes in his films. When they're filled with something: music, movement, thought, memory of a previous scene, dread, or any other emotion, they can never really be said to be empty. I like them because, with Kubrick, I can be sure that they're absolutely essential to his ultimate vision. He could have put out a six-hour documentary on tissue manufacturing; at least I'll know that not one minute of screen time is wasted.

"Eyes Wide Shut" isn't as vacuous as, say, "Barry Lyndon" or "The Shining." Compared to those two, this one scoots along like a person trying to get to his car in the rain. It'll try a lot of folks' patience, I'm sure -- even his most loyal fans will be bothered by the incessant piano "bell tolls" in the soundtrack of some scenes, or the constant reminders (in imaginary flashbacks) that Cruise's character is bothered by his wife's near-infidelity. I know I was.

Despite that, it's an apt final film for the long, glorious career of a man who has done more for the cinema, with less movies, than can ever be catalogued. To try and cite influences for this particular work is futile. Though one might draw parallels to Lindsay Anderson's "O Lucky Man!" or Martin Scorsese's "After Hours," "Eyes Wide Shut" is no less than a complete work from the cold heart and brilliant mind of Stanley Kubrick alone. It's also a furiously ingenious piece of filmmaking, one that works less on the emotions than on the senses and on the mind. Unlike most of Kubrick's earlier work, however, it does have an emotional subtext, which is used to devastating effect.

Cruise, by the way, does an outstanding job, not as a trained, camera-conscious film actor, but as a mature, seasoned performer. Here he uses his "Top Gun"/"Jerry Maguire" suavity to malicious effect; like Ryan O'Neal's Barry Lyndon before him, he's an egotistical cad. Unlike Lyndon, he gains our sympathy -- that's key to keeping us from disowning his character and thus negating the entire film.

Kidman is given less screen time, but it matters little. She's mostly seen in the beginning, and she has brief (but crucial) scenes throughout, and a masterful one at the end. It is safe to say that this is her best performance to date, and those of us who have been ignoring her treasured abilities up until now (the Academy, critics, myself) will be astounded to see how far she's come since "Dead Calm." Her high points: the argument with her husband that ends by setting the film's plot in motion perfectly captures the way women lure men into arguments when the cause for one is nonexistent (and on Cruise's part, how men can't think fast enough to do anything about it), and her dream confession scene, in which she wakes laughing but becomes tearful during recollection.

On a technical level, "Eyes Wide Shut" displays Kubrick's trademark perfectionism. Recreating Vietnam in rural England for "Full Metal Jacket" must have been nearly impossible, but the unrelenting accuracy in recreating uptown and downtown New York City is absolutely stunning. Right down to the diners and the newspaper stands; I shake my head in awe when I remind myself that Kubrick (a native Brooklynite) hasn't been to NYC in decades. The lighting and photography is impeccable, also, as it is in every one of his films.

This is the sort of film one sees more than once. Once is good to cleanse the palate, to clear out all the residual toxins left from other recent films. See it again, perhaps a third time, and get to appreciate the graceful, nearly unblemished finale of a man who took the art of cinema seriously. It's a sobering experience.

Initially was at a loss for words with this one. I can't necessarily explain the feelings this film brings out, but I can say they feel real personal and there's just something so off yet so painfully real about (most of) this movie and it is just really undervalued in Kubrick's filmography, I think. Besides being one of my favorite looking movies ever, the midpoint turn is one of the scariest heading down rabbit hole reveals I've really encountered in a film and it just disturbed me for the entire time (you know the point) and after as it continued provocatively building to the disturbing and bizarrely cathartic ending, which haunts me as the final scene in a Kubrick film. It's perfect in it's imperfectness and I get an insane level of both joy and sadness watching this movie.

Eyes Wide Shut is a movie like Casablanca or The Wizard of Oz (which is subtly referenced in the film) in that the more times you view it, the more you get out of it. (I imagine at some point you would wring out all the meaning, but that would take scores of viewings.) One infamous scene is so over-the-top it is easy to miss all the subtle references in the film, which necessitates multiple viewings. Fair warning--the more times you watch it, the more you go down the rabbit hole Kubrick digs (a reference to Alice in Wonderland, also evoked in Eyes Wide Shut).

Eyes Wide Shut was inspired by an Austrian novella called "Traumnovelle." The film is indeed dreamlike. Kubrick recreated Greenwich Village on a sound stage in London, which, like a dream, is slightly off from the real thing and contains no superfluous elements. This evokes the perfect atmosphere for the movie as we accompany Dr. Bill Harford (Tom Cruise) on his all-night, humiliating, surreal odyssey.

To me, the title of the movie, Eyes Wide Shut, implies willful naivete, particularly Dr. Bill's, and by extension the viewers', which seems to be (one of) the theme(s) Kubrick intends to highlight. Even the movie's poster seems to imply this: a mirror image of Nicole Kidman's character (Alice, as in Through the Looking Glass), looking right through the mirror in what appears to be an Illuminati image, while Dr. Bill has his eyes closed. In fact, all the shots of Alice looking in the mirror started to creep me out on subsequent viewings.

The movie then indulges in conspiracy-theory dog whistles to anyone whose eyes aren't wide shut. The Harfords are a WASPy family living in a luxurious apartment in Central Part West, which may be out of reach for a doctor (basically, a highly paid member of the working class) whose wife doesn't work. Furthermore, Dr. Bill Harford (whose name sounds like "Dollar Bill Harrison Ford") throws around money like it's no object. Which raises the question of how he really makes his money--apparently by making house calls to the ridiculously wealthy who can afford to avoid hospital waiting rooms. Dr. Bill seems to aspire to rub shoulders with these people, but he is spectacularly naive to the realities of the world he is tangentially involved in and his actual role in it. It seems to me the reason he was invited to the Victor's (as in an economic "victor's") luxurious party at the beginning is because it is a house-call in disguise in case of something like the OD that indeed occurs at one point. I determined this by reading between the lines when the two models hit on him, and he seems oblivious to their allusions of taking him "to where the rainbow ends" (more on that below) and when he is taken away at Victor's call, they exchange looks that seem to say they had mistaken him for one of the elites, not a working-class schlub.

FULL-ON CONSPIRACY THEORIES BELOW.

If Dr. Bill's eyes are wide shut, then Alice's are partly open. This is implied in the very first dialogue exchange in the movie, when Alice knows exactly where Dr. Bill had left his wallet, while he had forgotten, and he doesn't remember the name of the babysitter, which was mentioned like 30 seconds earlier. This comes to the fore when he simply can't imagine Alice being unfaithful to him because women don't think like men, and she falls to the floor laughing and divulges a depressing sexual fantasy. Alice looks in the mirror a lot, most memorably when she stares in the mirror as Dr. Bill begins kissing her. Is Kubrick implying Alice is a former sex slave who is going "through the looking glass"--the mental space sex slaves go to mentally block their abuse? Is that why Alice is constantly grooming their daughter, Helena? Is she subconsciously grooming her daughter for a similar fate? Is that why in the final scene, when Alice and Dr. Bill are wrapped up in their conversation at the toy store, Helena can be seen running away in the direction of two men in the background, who had also been in the background at Victor's party? Among the strange toys at said toy store are stuffed tigers and a game called "Magic Circle"--resembling the imagery at the secret society's ritual/party Dr. Bill crashed and apparently a prop created for the movie. The stuffed tigers are identical to one on Domino's bed, a streetwalker Dr. Bill meets in Greenwich Village. Is Kubrick implying Domino is a sex slave, having undergone "Beta Kitten" programming, and the juxtaposition of the same toy with Helena in a toy store implying the girl's fate as well as the creepy conditioning the elites are subjecting the masses to?

Then there are the references to "rainbows," as in "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," another reference to sex slave conditioning, similar to "through the looking glass." The two models at Victor's party offer to take Dr. Bill "to where the rainbow ends"--where they go mentally when they're having sex. Then there is the costume shop "Rainbow" where Dr. Bill obtains the cloak for the secret society's party and where the proprietor's daughter prostitutes herself. The girl runs from her enraged father, gets behind Dr. Bill for protection, then whispers something inaudible into his ear. The version of the movie I own has Japanese subtitles that translate what she said: She tells him which cloak to choose. Does she infer where he is going with that cloak and does she have knowledge of what goes on there? That would seem to connect her with the rainbow image in the store's name.

Finally, I question how accurate Kubrick's depiction of the elite's secret society is. It seems to be a hodgepodge of hellfire club, Bohemian Grove, Illuminati/Freemason, O.T.O. imagery. Are there elite cadres involved in these types of ritual debauchery? I'd guess Kubrick was close enough to these people he probably saw a lot and knew enough to guess at the rest (such as the sort of parties the Rothschilds threw--the exterior of the house of the party was one of the Rothschilds' residences). There are disturbing parallels with Eyes Wide Shut in the Jeffrey Epstein case and his "suicide." I'm guessing it is true in broad strokes. I think Kubrick was telling us society's elites engage in depravities that would frighten and disgust the masses if we knew about them, and therefore we shouldn't be so naive to grant the economic victors any moral authority.

Are there secrets that you keep outside your marriage, locked away inside an unseen secret carriage, of the way you might behave, if you were confident and brave, although your partner would most likely not, encourage. As a doctor is presented with an image, of his wife's fidelity that starts him to twitch, leads to several rendezvous, that seek to demonstrate, imbue, of how that scratch that can't be reached, just might be itched. Interpretation of the outcomes might reveal, how you engage with your love, just how you feel, do you know just who they are, do they know how high's your bar, or would the truth, if it came out, make you both squeal.

With the exception of a late-occurring scene of deadening over-explanation wholly unnecessary to the film on every level (and rather unusual for Kubrick), Eyes Wide Shut is utterly sensational, and represents another gleaming jewel in the master filmmaker's already studded crown. Cruise and Kidman surpass all of their previous work, turning in spectacular performances infused with nuances only hinted at prior to this outing. Their real-life union appears to bring every bit of unique tension Kubrick intended, as the movie wholly depends on the verisimilitude of the central couple's relationship. Kubrick's tone fulfills all the promise of the title, consistently delivering an elevated texture of almost uncanny imagination perpetually hovering between fantasy and reality. The director additionally mines many of his familiar thematic concerns, including deceit, paranoia, and blinding frustration. Eyes Wide Shut is certain to be as closely scrutinized as many of Kubrick's other films (particularly because it is his final work), and its thoughtful and challenging treatment of such lightning-rod topics as marital honesty, sexual jealousy, and the perceived risks of disclosing one's fantasies (even to the single person you trust more than any other) is sure to draw some people in while pushing others away.