Existentialism in excelsis. Ravishing, cryptic and engrossing in turns, this is commercial cinema as its finest with an extraordinary synthesis of cerebalism, sound and visual imagery (if not story telling in its conventional form). A rare multi-headed hydra that repays repeated viewing and never quite reveals all (thank goodness).
It's a masterpiece—you know that. So instead I'll talk about the 70mm showing at the Aero, where a girl in a Tarot t-shirt took my ticket, a small refugee camp for the dizzy formed in the lobby during the stargate scene, and a no-fucks-to-give Gary Lockwood (Frank Poole) was there to sign autographs in hustle mode. He kept trying to upsell the poster also signed by Keir Dullea. Apparently you could clean up on eBay.
Quite possibly the greatest cinematic experience ever made. I re-watch 2001 once a year as a palette cleanser, a film all filmmakers should strive towards. The perfect marriage of visual story telling and auditory richness. It's impossible to overstate the importance of the 2001, how groundbreaking ever aspect of this film was - not just technically, but structurally and narratively. Bold in every way possible.