Anthony Burgess claimed in an interview with Terry Wogan (of the BBC) that the title of his 1962 book A Clockwork Orange was derived from an old cockney expression, “queer, i.e., odd, as a clockwork orange.” And if that wasn’t enough, added for good measure that “Oran” was Malay for man and the title could alternatively be taken to mean a mechanical man, something that Alex becomes after his treatment.
The casual viewer of the movie isn’t likely to know that it is based on the work of a man who reveled in word play and was a great admirer of James Joyce, whose work Burgess has gone to great lengths to explain and champion. There are some, if fleeting, similarities between the use of an invented language with real foreign words (Russian) in A Clockwork Orange and foreign words from a dozen languages in Finnegans Wake. In both cases by the end of the book (or film) the reader (viewer) should have a grasp of the basic vocabulary of this invented language.
Burgess was somewhat dismissive of Stanley Kubrick’s script of his novel in his biography, Little Wilson Big God; this may have something to do with the fact that Burgess never saw any of the profit made from the movie rights, because he had earlier sold the rights to a production company for a few hundred dollars, which in turn sold the rights to Warner Brothers for a considerable sum. Burgess also felt that A Clockwork Orange wasn’t his best work, but ironically that’s what he’ll be remembered most for, and that too for the movie version of the book.
There was great worry when this movie was released that it could cause rioting and copycat criminal behavior. According to Burgess’ biography there were a few isolated incidents of violence but the early fears were not realized. The film is a science fiction depiction of dystopia, although the setting can’t have been too far in the future considering the anachronistic settings and dialog of the characters other than those in Alex’s gang of droogs.
The first half of the film is the crime part: Malcolm McDowell is a teenager living at home, shirking school, and already in minor difficulties with the law. McDowell’s is too old to be a teenager but somehow we need to put that aside to enjoy this movie. In the evening he goes out with his friends and engages in random acts of violence, robbery and sexual assault. A more harmless looking thug than McDowell’s Alex is hard to imagine, with his golden locks, large blue eyes and a skinny torso. There’s a falling out between Alex and his droogs, which leads to Alex being sent to prison for murder.
The second half—the more interesting half—is concerned with punishment and rehabilitation. Alex is in a tough prison run by a sergeant-major type warden and a no-nonsense governor but he copes rather well becoming the choir boy that we have always suspected him of being. He keeps his nose clean and catches the attention of the visiting Interior Minister who’s looking for volunteers for a special violence and sex aversion program that can allow a participant to be rehabilitated in weeks and released from prison. This could be a case where the treatment is possibly worse than the disease and a neutered and harmless Alex, much like a domesticated tiger, is released into the wilds of society. The treatment and conclusion revolves around a major theme in Burgess’ work: free will versus determinism and original sin.
The movie is satisfying on many levels. The classical music score and the almost ballet like choreography of the fight and rape scenes is very effective. Alex is mincing and effete but even with his false eyelashes he’s capable of intense violence. Is the punishment worse than the crime? That’s a question that’s left for the viewer to decide although the ending would have been more effective if Alex didn’t show signs of recovery from his recovery.