FictionThatMatters.org

Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
Directed by Stanley Kubrick
Starring: Peter Sellers, George C. Scott, Tracy Reed, Slim Pickens
Black and white, 1964. 93 minutes.

Beyond our imagination

The sun experiences nuclear explosions every single second, creating the raw material for life. But when these explosions happen on Earth they pass beyond the realm of our imagination. Our brains are capable of understanding how to trigger a nuclear reaction — and how to harness its energy for peaceful means — but the sheer power of nuclear energy is, in many senses, too complex for us to fathom. We are biological organisms tottering about on the planet Earth yet we have learned how to imitate the sun.

There is something inherently absurd in this vast difference of scale and power. And the fact that we are capable of blowing all life on earth to smithereens at any given moment of the day — even now — is even more absurd.

Absurdity onscreen

If there is one film that captures the utter absurdity of our methods of administering nuclear power, it is Dr. Strangelove. This black and white 1964 satire examines a strategic mishap in the midst of the Cold War. The U.S. and the Soviet Union are locked in a policy of nuclear deterrence, with each country amassing a nuclear arsenal so large as to discourage the other side from attacking. The rationale is that no country will attack the other for fear of triggering a nuclear holocaust. The solution: build more bombs.

The story begins when a crazed U.S. Air Force general decides to exploit an obscure government procedure by issuing an attack order to B-52 bombers stationed just outside the Soviet Union. As the burly General Jack D. Ripper — pun intended — explains to a fellow officer:

But today, war is too important to be left to politicians. They have neither the time, the training, nor the inclination for strategic thought. I can no longer sit back and allow communist infiltration, communist indoctrination, communist subversion, and the international communist conspiracy to sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids.

The General has become so terrified by the ‘Red Scare’ that he actually believes that the Soviet Union has conspired to contaminate the nation’s bodily fluids — a kind of medieval superstition of the Four Bodily Humors. His ludicrous decision sets off a series of increasingly frightening events. A B-52 bomber plods towards its target, unaware that the Soviet Union has constructed the ultimate defensive weapon — a horrific ‘Doomsday Device’ that will destroy all life on Earth if it detects a nuclear attack. Neither intervention by the American President nor deliberations by the world’s top diplomats can prevent the plane’s spirited march towards its military target. The flight crew is determined to see out its duty — even if it means riding the bomb itself like a rodeo horse.

Easy on the Eye

This is a beautiful film to watch, shot in crisp black and white from some creative angles. Careful attention is paid to leading our eyes towards the obscure spy cameras, code breaking machines, and technological feats of the ‘War Room’ to make the story believable. Director Stanley Kubrick also prevented most of the actors from knowing that the film was a satire, instead asking them to read their lines seriously. The exceptions were Peter Sellers and George C. Scott. The latter’s jingoistic portrayal of General Buck Turgidson borders on vaudeville yet somehow works swimmingly.

“Gee,” Turgidson says after learning about the destructive power of the Soviet Doomsday device, “I wish we had one of them Doomsday machines.”

The film abounds with tongue-in-cheek humor. One of my favorite scenes occurs when the U.S. President dials the Soviet premier in an attempt to defray the crisis. “Be careful, Mr. President,” the Soviet Ambassador warns him, “I think he is drunk.”

(In truth, a very similar scene occurred in 1995 when Soviet President Boris Yeltsin, a known alcoholic, nearly launched nuclear missiles after receiving a faulty alarm code.)

Sellers, Sellers, Sellers

The standout performer in Dr. Strangelove is Peter Sellers. He had already built a reputation as a character actor, but this film established Sellers as a consummate comedian. He plays three separate roles and would have played a fourth had he not broken a bone. (His injury helped propel the career of Slim Pickens, who replaced him.) His portrayal of the American president is so convincing that I did not even recognize Sellers the first time I watched the film.

Still, the eponymous Dr. Strangelove is the most fascinating character. He is loosely modeled on Werner Von Braun, the NASA chief who spearheaded America’s race to the moon. Von Braun was a former Nazi scientist who designed the V-2 rockets that plagued southern England during World War II. He was plundered by the U.S. military and — like Dr. Strangelove — broke his leg in a car accident while fleeing Soviet troops.

But beyond that, Dr. Strangelove stands out because Sellers creates one of the most original, flamboyant characters to grace the screen, with a Frankenstein hairdo and a musical, strained accent. His very limbs threaten to burst out of his wheelchair in a Nazi salute as he explains the principles of nuclear science between clenched teeth.

Pie Fight and Mushroom Clouds

The original script of Dr. Strangelove called for a clownish pie fight at the conclusion and the scene was, in fact, filmed. Kubrick wisely decided to leave it out. Nothing could be more appropriate — and disturbing — than the montage of nuclear explosions that signal the end of the world.

There is a poignant message here. Namely, that although the film has made you laugh all along, the onscreen Armageddon instantly effaces the silliness. This is Kubrick’s coup de grace. For we realize that what passes for satire is a barely tarnished reflection of the real thing.

–Deji Olukotun

Screen photos utilized under principles of fair use. (c) Columbia Pictures.