There is a problem with 4k. When Warner Home Entertainment decided to push the release of the 2001: A Space Odyssey 4k it doesn’t appear that they told Amazon on time and they sent out a few of the pre-orders over the weekend. I was one of those lucky recipients. My expertise is not in picture fidelity but, I will do my best to express my thoughts on it. First the quality of the image is intensely beautiful, and I can see details that I have no memory of seeing before. And this is the problem with 4k. 

As I was watching the film for this go-around I was obsessing over the individual frames rather than the overall composition. This is a problem which I suspect will go away eventually as I have safely transitioned from VHS to DVD to Blu and the definition upgrades were only distracting for a short while.

So, what are the problems with 2001? These super high definition images eliminate the veneer of blur that hides minor imperfections. During the Dawn of Man sequence it feels like everything is in a studio. While this was the case it wasn’t until now that I could clearly see it. This, of course, is a testament to the quality of the Director of Photography, Geoffrey Unsworth, and Kubrick’s desire to recreate the beautiful African landscapes without transporting the entire crew to film on site. And if I was only seeing the performance this would not matter but I was so interested in the restoration that I was, unfortunately, looking for flaws. The other issue I saw as some mild distortion from the wide-angle lenses used. Again, if you aren’t looking you will not see it, but when finally see it you may not be able to shake it.

I do not, by any means, want to deter a lover of masterpieces from upgrading their edition. But it acts as an enlightenment of the deities of cinema. 2001 goes from being a flawless diamond to an overly charismatic cult leader for whom I recognize the blemishes but am still prepared to proselytize.

Watching this, with a recent viewing of The Shining in tow, has put me in a position of re-considering Kubrick. I feel like a post-secondary student of painters. In my early education Kubrick films, like a Van Gogh, are separated by a gulf of impossibility that few other masters could cross. These are works that inspire emotional responses on sight alone and after which the chemical make-up of the brain is eternally altered; like they are the output of gods, or aliens, with an intellect that we struggle to comprehend. All other films are with me, here, on a mortal plane, while they are likely beyond what I think I could do I think I could competently try and apply myself enough and create something similar.

Now, having thousands of hours of viewing experience, including films widely considered all-time greats, I feel more capable of digesting the films of Kubrick as if he was just a man, rather than an extraterrestrial being. While watching The Shining I felt myself in a position to try and identify what it is about the film that makes it great. From blind acceptance to trying to justify the outcomes of his visual experiment. I still accept the film as a masterpiece and hold it as a cornerstone upon which film makers and views can base their study of horror and suspense films, rarely are there equals. But now I am seeing the rubble and dust from the marble slabs out of which these films are birthed.

Recognizing this feels like a new tier of film experience, and, dare I say, life experience. Only a fool would compare movies to the toils of real life, but it is also the fool who avoids the healing properties of art. I am but a humble student who chooses to apply his experience and knowledge to assist the curious who surround me. There are many like me, but this is where life and art converge.

I try to be as positive as possible, to the point of happily watching undisputed master works next to neigh unseen passion projects with the fidelity of an agitated mud puddle. I can acknowledge how bad something is while seeing the merits, however small, and try to help it find its niche.

I suppose, though, it may not be the picture definition, resulting from a 4k scan and restoration, but eyes growing more and more attuned to the trickery of the masters in transporting their mark from a cushioned sofa to pre-historic Africa or the Moon without the rube even recognizing they haven’t left their physical being, but their soul, itself, is being encoded with the intentions of a magician looking to carve their brand onto your heart. I know that it is smoke and mirrors, but, sometimes I just don’t care. We want to be dragged under water only to emerge, later, better for the artistic drowning and recitation.

But, yeah. The 4k release of 2001: A Space Odyssey is a plastic disc of magic. Reviewing the last several paragraphs I am struggling to remember the last time a movie has had such a visceral effect on an essay. Therefore, while there is a problem with 4k, some movies can effortlessly navigate them and still leave the viewer pondering the miracles of existence.

You can read more words here.