Film: Room 237

Director: Rodney Ascher
Genre: Documentary
Source: USA (2013)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Netflix Instant Watch
Grade: B

The "theories" in Room 237 about the real meaning behind Stanley Kubrick's The Shining have been getting all the press, and I understand why. They are fascinating (the structural inconsistencies of the Overlook Hotel), infuriating (no, I do not see a face in the clouds), and utterly ridiculous (The Shining is Kubrick's apology for faking the Apollo moon landing. Evidence? Danny Torrance wears an Apollo 11 sweater). But to get caught up on the plausibility or implausibility of these theories is to completely miss the point. This is not a film about the "true" meaning behind The Shining. It's a film about how we make meaning for ourselves. It's about the act of interpretation, of how we find significance, of how "truth" means something different to each of us, even if there is shared ground. And it's about how sometimes we get lost in the labyrinth of our own heads. 

Director Rodney Ascher sets a few rules for himself early on. First, we never see the theorists, are never allowed to judge them for their crazy hair, or their studious tweed, or their wall of books, or their homemade art. We are only invited to explore their ideas, not their whole being, and it provides a nice distancing technique to help us focus on the message instead of the messenger. Second, nearly all of the visuals come from Kubrick's own films. Part of the unstated question to the film is a) how much control did Kubrick exercise over every aspect of his films (the Internet lore says he is responsible for every stitch and every inch on screen, which means EVERYTHING is purposeful, which means EVERYTHING has meaning. There is no room here for continuity errors, or set designers, or tricks of lighting. Every Kubrick shot means something to these theorists, and so nearly every shot in the film comes from Kubrick). But then Ascher starts pulling a few tricks. Screens from the film (such as the television set in the Overlook or from the Torrance's house) start being occupied with other images, images not from the original film. Is this a commentary on our own ability to insert meaning into films? Is it about our unconscious versus reality? Is it just a clever visual game? Third, Ascher doesn't always tell us who is speaking. Is this voice someone with a crazy theory or someone whose analysis has some weight? Should I put stock into what I'm hearing right now or dismiss it? How am I making meaning--of The Shining, of Room 237, of Kubrick, of Ascher--at this moment?

The result is a maze of ideas, where interesting concepts--the importance of the hedge maze (not in the book), the idea of the Minotaur--bump up against absurdity--that picture of a skiier? That's supposed to be a Minotaur, actually. Just as these critics of Kubrick's film have focused on pieces of the whole to create their theories, so too do we as viewers pick and choose pieces of each speaker's ideas to create our own versions of the truth. Perhaps I question the idea that a German typewriter means the film is about the holocaust, but I can appreciate the way Kubrick's editing can transform a group of people into a pile of suitcases. Perhaps I don't think Kubrick every purposefully intended to have the film run forward and backward at the same time (superimposed over each other), but I do see how doing so reveals some interesting concepts of how Kubrick frames and composes shots and uses the space of the screen. Perhaps I don't think a Calumet can means anything particular, but maybe something else stands out as meaningful to me. 

Ultimately, the film acknowledges that determining Kubrick's "real" meaning is a fool's game, but that the beauty of complex and sophisticated art is that it allows us to be a part of creating meaning, and that, in turn, is what makes the art meaningful. Is The Shining about Native Americans, or genocide, or Apollo conspiracies, or anything that deeply encoded as to be practically invisible? Not to me, and yet I also enjoy the maze of getting lost in interpretation, whether it be literary, religious, or otherwise. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but sometimes it's not, and sometimes it's something different to you than it is to me. The fascinating part is when we compare our interpretations and come out of the conversation with a third interpretation, different than either you or I had originally, but taking pieces of both. That is the heart of communication.

Like its interpreting voices, Room 237 gets a little lost in itself, but that doesn't mean it's not interesting. What it does mean, I'll leave up to you.