Kubrick Conspiracies
FROM FAKE MOON LANDINGS TO ILLUMINATI MIND CONTROL
The claim is that Kubrick was privy to the inner workings of the Illuminati and their rituals
The late, great Anglo-American director Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999) has been the subject of some interesting cult attention over the last couple of decades. Kubrick’s famed reclusiveness provided the opportunity for London conman Alan Conway to publically impersonate Kubrick throughout the early 1990s (a scenario that served as the basis for the 2006 film Colour Me Kubrick, starring John Malkovich as Conway). The fastidious research Kubrick undertook for all of his later projects (such as photographing hundreds of suburban London doorways in search of the ‘perfect location’ in which to place a prostitute in his final film Eyes Wide Shut) was the subject of Jon Ronson’s 2008 TV documentary Stanley Kubrick’s Boxes. More recently, in 2012, an entire documentary – Room 237 – has been made about fans’ obsessive interpretations of Kubrick’s 1980 horror opus The Shining, a film that, despite a lukewarm reception on its initial release (Stephen King has outwardly expressed his displeasure at Kubrick’s adaptation of his work on numerous occasions), has grown in critical and cult popularity to the extent that it has arguably surpassed Dr Strangelove, 2001 and A Clockwork Orange as Kubrick’s signature work in the wider realms of popular culture. Perhaps the most unusual manifestation of all this attention has been Kubrick’s notably fortean afterlife as the focal point for a number of conspiracy theories which have flourished in the online conspirasphere in recent years.
TWO CLAIMS
Elucidations of the ‘Kubrick conspiracies’ revolve around two core claims. The first is that the 1969 Moon landings were indeed a hoax (see FT94:34-39; 97:22-27; 168:32-39), and were staged by Kubrick using special effects techniques developed for the production of his science fiction masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey, released in 1968 (as is usual with Moon hoax conspiracies, the other seven Moon missions post Apollo 11 don’t feature much in such discussions. Presumably they were shot by lesser talents in the standard fashion of Hollywood sequels: 1970s disaster maestro Irwin Allen directed the Apollo 13 mission, indubitably). Conspiracy theorists being what they are, this basic theme has been developed into elaborate narratives that argue Kubrick secretly encoded symbolic allusions to the hoax in his subsequent films. For instance, the main proselytiser of these theories, the American Jay Weidner, is featured in Room 237 expostulating on his theories that The Shining is something of a thinly disguised confessional for Kubrick’s involvement in one of the greatest cover-ups of all time. Evidence includes the Apollo 11 themed woolly jumper worn by the child protagonist Danny in one part of the film, and the cans of ‘Tang’ soft drink that are clearly visible in the many scenes set in the food locker of the Overlook Hotel where the story takes place – Tang being one of the select brands of earthly consumables sent into space as sustenance for the astronauts. 1
The second claim is that Kubrick was privy to the inner workings of the Illuminati, and portrayed a typical Illuminati ritual – rich New Yorkers meeting at a rural manse and dressing up in masks and robes before partaking of a group orgy – as the centrepiece for his final film in 1999, Eyes Wide Shut. This assertion is a staple of the innumerable, and often interminable, ‘Illuminati symbolism encoded in pop culture’ webpages and sites (see FT239:3238; 258:32-39). For example, one of the most well-established of these sites, The Vigilant Citizen, features a multi-part series analysing Eyes Wide Shut as Kubrick’s expose of the Illuminati elite. This exemplary exercise in conspiracist baroque
includes gems such as the ‘Rainbow’ motif evident throughout the film (for instance, in the opening party sequence, protagonist Bill Harford is tempted by a couple of women with an invitation to go ‘over the rainbow’ with them, while the costume shop he later visits to rent his ritual disguise is called Rainbow Costume Hire) being an allusion to the MK Ultra mind control programming used to create Illuminati sex slaves. Meanwhile, the Indian music that forms the aural backdrop to the ritual orgy is an obvious reference to Crowleyan sex magick (as such magic is derived from ‘diabolical’, non-Christian spiritual traditions such as Yoga and Tantra). 2 This claim naturally leads to sinister musings that Kubrick’s demise from heart failure was, of course, caused by Illuminati operatives as payback for the director’s temerity in depicting the secret society on screen.
CONSPIRACY AND CONTROL
What makes the ‘Kubrick conspiracies’ particularly interesting within the context of conspiracy culture is their central focus on Kubrick the director. The dominant relationship between cinema and conspiracy theory has traditionally been one based around notions of genre. Films with storylines based on conspiratorial themes and scenarios have long constituted distinct sub-categories of the thriller and drama genres. Notable examples of ‘paranoid thrillers’ include The Manchurian Candidate (1962), The Parallax View (1974) and Arlington Road (1999); while All The President’s Men (1976) and JFK (1991) are historical dramas predicated around conspiratorial situations (insert ‘alternative’ or ‘pseudo’ history to describe JFK as appropriate). A more genuinely conspiracist-driven relationship between conspiracy theory and film has developed over the last couple of decades in connection with the rise of the ‘Illuminati’ as the dominant paradigm of millennial conspiracy theory. As typified by such luminaries as David Icke and Alex Jones, one of the central tenets of this mindset is the belief that most media content – especially of the popular entertainment variety – is actually operating as a vehicle of conspiratorial mind control, largely by subliminally conditioning viewers through the presentation of esoteric symbolism. A typical piece of exegesis in this vein goes something like this: Transformers 2 (2009) features a setpiece at the Pyramids of Giza. Pyramids are also Illuminati symbols, like the ‘eye in the triangle’ logo on American paper currency. Therefore, Transformers 2 is really a nefarious exercise in Illuminati brainwashing under the ‘innocent’ guise of a Hollywood blockbuster.
As this description suggests, most of this Illuminati-based conspiracy theorising is
fixated on intensive interpretation of the visual aspects of films, such as mise en scene, editing, and the gestures of actors. Little discussion is generally given to the wider production contexts that are important in the realisation of films, such as the significance of the director as (arguably) the key creative decision-maker in the whole film-making process. The Kubrick conspiracies are exceptional in that, while still focused on analysis of the visual aspects of his films, conspiracy theorists have made the figure of Kubrick himself a central part of their ideas. To illustrate by reference to the above example, while Michael Bay, director of the Transformers franchise, is quite possibly an agent of some grand conspiracy to destroy Western culture through the production of wretchedly awful big-budget hokum, he personally isn’t getting singled out for attention by conspiracy theorists in the same manner as Kubrick (if he is even mentioned at all).
So what is it about Stanley Kubrick, film-maker, that makes him a figure of such evident fascination for conspiracy theorists? I suggest that the basis of this appeal lies in the resonances between Kubrick’s creative methods and artistic vision and some core premises at the heart of conspiracy theorists’ conceptualisations of how conspiracies operate.
The first point of connection relates to Kubrick’s reputation as a control freak. After an unsatisfying stint working as a Hollywood director for hire on Spartacus (1960), Kubrick sought creative autonomy by not only directing but co-producing and co-writing his films, enabling him to develop a reputation as an obsessive perfectionist. Alongside intensive pre-production preparation of the kind typified by the photographs of London
Kubrick developed a reputation as an obsessive perfectionist and control freak
porches, Kubrick is also cited as a recordholder in categories such as most takes of a single scene (allegedly 127 for a sequence in The Shining involving Shelley Duvall – purportedly where Wendy Torrance fends off husband Jack on the hotel’s main staircase) and longest shoot time (15 months for primary photography on Eyes Wide Shut). Kubrick’s total dedication to his art was further manifested in attention paid to the nature of publicity materials, such as the size of newspaper advertisements in leading dailies, and the specifics of theatrical projection: a classic Kubrick anecdote relates how he rang up the owner of a NY theatre before the release of A Clockwork Orange and advised them on repainting the interior of the cinema in black to avoid adverse reflections being cast on the screen by the white lacquer. On finding that the black paint used was gloss – still too reflective – Kubrick arranged for the interior to be redone in a more suitable matt finish. 3
The sense of total control over the filmmaking process that emanates from Kubrick’s oeuvre (at least his post- Spartacus work) is resonant with conspiracy theorists’ implicit beliefs in the omnipotent capabilities of the conspirators involved. Most conspiracy theories presume that the conspirators had virtually unlimited access to every resource required to undertake the conspiratorial activity in question (e.g. manpower, money, technology); and that the conspirators have considered and controlled its every possible aspect down to the tiniest detail, so that nothing is left to chance (and, concurrently, that the average person will interpret as chance events what the conspirators have so skilfully planned).
For example, the dominant conspiracy narrative regarding the 9/11 terror attacks – that they were a false flag operation staged by some nefarious cabal within the US political and intelligence establishments – is predicated on the assumption that the conspirators were able to command highly skilled technicians and advanced technology to surreptitiously plant demolition charges in the structure of the World Trade Center buildings (buildings that were not only heavily used, but also situated in one the world’s densest urban environments) in advance preparation for the plane crashes. This presupposed that the hijackings would take place with absolute accuracy, so as to leave most people with no doubt that the planes were the sole cause of the Twin Towers’ collapse.
In this respect, Kubrick’s meticulous planning and artistic vision can be seen to constitute a shared modus operandi with that of conspirators, making it a small step for conspiracy theorists to imagine Kubrick as a literal conspirator himself. Of course, Kubrick could have faked the Moon landings with the detailed aerospace research he undertook for 2001 (using NASA consultants as production designers) and the special effects techniques pioneered for that film (such as front projection). Of course, the ritual in Eyes Wide Shut is authentically portrayed – this is a director whose insistence
on authenticity was such that, in Barry Lyndon (1975), he used Zeiss lenses of the sort used in astronomical instruments to film scenes lit only by candlelight in order to convey a more genuine visual sense of 18th century life. Of course, Kubrick put hidden symbolism in The Shining – as if a perfectionist like him would have idly flicked through the racks down in the costume department and randomly pulled out the Apollo-themed jumper for Danny’s ensemble.
The end results of Kubrick’s artistic command are films whose meticulously designed mise en scene, editing, and soundtracks suggest that they are imbued with layers of meaning well beyond what might be evident on casual viewings. All of Kubrick’s work, especially from 2001 onwards, reflects his ability to take standard generic frameworks and use them to explore profound metaphysical and philosophical themes. In terms of the films under discussion here, 2001 takes two standard themes of sci-fi – man vs machine, and humanity’s first meeting with alien intelligence – and makes them the basis for a metaphysical parable about the cosmic evolution of mankind; The Shining transforms stock horror tropes – a haunted house, a disturbed man – into an allegory on themes such as the psychology of creativity and free will and predestination (the final image which implies that Jack Torrance is the reincarnation of an earlier Overlook guest): while Eyes Wide Shut transforms what could ostensibly be a straightforward drama about fidelity into an oneiric, Freudian odyssey of desire, class, and power.
As the very existence of the Room 237 documentary illustrates, the distanced and ironic tone of Kubrick’s works actively invites viewers to engage in speculation and interpretation as to their deeper meanings. Since obsessive speculation and excessive interpretation are defining attributes of conspiracy theory, it is understandable that the likes of Weidner see Kubrick’s films as a kind of open invitation to exercise their conspiracy theorist chops.
PUBLIC IMAGE
The other main strand feeding the Kubrick conspiracies is his public image. The popular impression of Kubrick is that of a mysterious and inscrutable figure who lived as a paranoid hermit on his Hertfordshire estate, and whose approach to film-making was that of an Aspergers-type obsessive. Interviews with associates belie this image, painting a picture of Kubrick as an animal-loving family man whose reclusiveness was more about preserving his integrity than any Howard Hughes-style madness: for instance, Kubrick kept up to date with Hollywood happenings through regular phone calls to director friends like Steven Spielberg and John Boorman. In this respect it should also be noted that, for all his meticulous preparation, Kubrick was well open to improvisation (classic examples being Jack Nicholson’s famous “Here’s Johnny!” interjection in The Shining and R Lee Ermey’s drill sergeant invective in Full Metal Jacket), and usually tempered the ‘heavy’ themes of his films with doses of black comedy ( Dr Strangelove, anyone?). By contrast, a sense of humour is something noticeably lacking in most conspiracy theorists. However, for the most part Kubrick’s ostensibly enigmatic persona is one upon which all kinds of rumours and interpretations can readily be projected, the intense gaze and hermetic beard that constitute his distinguishing features in production stills being evocative of some archetypal visage of a conspiratorial mastermind.
Given that there are plenty of filmmakers comparable to Kubrick in terms of creative control, thematic complexity and oblique persona, it seems strange that conspiracy theories have not developed around more auteurs. One who comes immediately to mind is David Lynch. While the standard reading of Lynch’s films are as exercises in arthouse surrealism, works like the Twin Peaks TV series and feature film (1990-1992), Lost Highway (1997), and Mulholland Drive (2001) are soaked in occult themes and imagery, notably benign and malevolent entities from other realms shaping human affairs and possession of individuals by such entities. As these themes are central to the Illuminati paradigm, it might be assumed that Lynchian conspiracies would abound in the conspirasphere. Perhaps, given that the cinematic tastes of most conspiracy theorists appear to revolve around the likes of Transformers 2, Kubrick is as ‘arty’ as they get.
The distanced tone of his works invites viewers to engage in speculation and interpretation