Published on October 2nd, 2019
In the future, a sadistic gang leader is imprisoned and volunteers for a conduct-aversion experiment, but it doesn’t go as planned.
Protagonist Alex DeLarge is an “ultraviolent” youth in futuristic Britain. As with all luck, his eventually runs out and he’s arrested and convicted of murder and rape.
While in prison, Alex learns of an experimental program in which convicts are programmed to detest violence. If he goes through the program, his sentence will be reduced and he will be back on the streets sooner than expected.
But Alex’s ordeals are far from over once he hits the mean streets of Britain that he had a hand in creating.
Watch Trailer Of Movie “A Clockwork Orange” Here
Movie Reviews: “A Clockwork Orange“
Movie Review: New York Daily News
So be warned. Kubrick never plays it safe. “A Clockwork Orange,” at Cinema I, is a mind shattering experience with its exaggerated violence and outrageous vulgarity. Kubrick’s terrifying vision of tomorrowland, which has its basis in Anthony Burges’ novel of the same title, is that of a cynic.
Our world-to-be, as depicted by John Barry’s futuristic sets, suffers from urban paralysis. Hallways are left littered with broken furniture. People live in cold, impersonal cell-block homes where communication is impossible.
Movie Review: Village Voice
By the time this review appears in print, Stanley Kubrick’s “A Clockwork Orange” may have won the best movie award from both the New York Film Critics and the National Society of Film Critics, two eminently judicial groups to which your humble reviewer belongs.
If such a catastrophe has indeed occurred, I disclaim all responsibility. Under the circumstances, however, I reserve the right to analyze the voting at some later date.
For the moment, let me report simply that “A Clockwork Orange” manifests itself on the screen as a painless, bloodless, and ultimately pointless futuristic fantasy.
The first third splashes out of a wide-angle lens like a madly mod picture-spread for Look magazine where Kubrick toiled briefly long, long ago. The middle third provides a moderately engrossing indictment of B. F. Skinnerism in action.
Movie Review: The New York Review of Books
When Anthony Burgess published A Clockwork Orange ten years ago, he compacted much of what was in the air, especially the odd mingling of dismay and violence (those teen-age gangs) with pious euphoria about the causes and cures of crime and of deviance.
Mr. Burgess’s narrator hero, Alex, was pungently odious; addicted to mugging and rape, intoxicated with his own command of the language (a newly minted teen-age slang, plus poeticisms, sneers, and sadistic purring), Alex was something both better and worse than a murderer: he was murderous.
Because of a brutal rape by Alex, the wife of a novelist dies; because of his lethal clubbing, an old woman dies; because of his exhibitionist ferocity, a fellow prisoner dies.