Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (Stanley Kubrick, 1964) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

A shortened version of this review was published as part of From the Front Row's Trans Canon, in which trans, non-binary, genderfluid etc. critics and cinephiles came together to create a Best Of list according to us. Thanks to Mattie for including me with the 40-odd filmlovers. Check out all of our lists as well as the canon, and enjoy this full review below!

When watching a film frequently listed among the greatest ever made, it can be easy to get wrapped up in the grandiosity of it all. "Gentlemen, you can't fight in here, this is the War Room!" is beyond iconic, as is the image of Slim Pickens waving his cowboy hat while riding a bomb. The lore grows and grows: stories of Kubrick telling George C. Scott his more absurd or over-the-top takes were just practice, but keeping them in the movie. Or the originally envisioned ending of a food fight (which is why there's that huge spread the Russian ambassador picks from in the War Room).

Important as they are to the film, strip away the brilliant line readings and behind-the-scenes fascinations, and what's there is simply one of the funniest films ever made. Incisive satire burns through Dr. Strangelove. It works so well in large part due to being based on a book, the suspenseful drama "Red Alert" by Welsh author Peter George. Stanley Kubrick knew that such a scary premise was ripe for the comedy he and co-screenwriter Terry Southern mine in this excellent story of a U.S. Air Force General, Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden) usurping the chain of command and ordering his planes to attack the Soviet Union.

Using 3 major locations, Dr. Strangelove is unmatched in its apparent simplicity, while being a vehicle for Kubrick's typical precision and sharp eye. While pared down in scope from grander, later films like 2001: A Space Odyssey or even A Clockwork Orange, Dr. Strangelove is every bit as detailed. Witness the amusingly cramped interior of the B-52 bomber as Major Kong (Pickens) is revealed to be just a couple of steps away from his crew with whom he's been debating over headset. Highlighting the serious undertone of the impending nuclear attack, the production design & camera work offer a sense of a foxhole-- warriors about to fight a great battle. Compare that to the isolation with which Gen. Ripper is often shot. Though he has an audience in Group Captain Lionel Mandrake (one of Peter Sellers' three roles), he is alone in his madness. Finally, the War Room, big & expansive and filled with people (men) overwhelmed with opinions and reactions, absurdly offering their bumblefuck President, Merkin Muffly (Sellers again) differing solutions.

Like the best satire, one need not be a Cold War historian to recognize how close to reality the movie comes, and why that makes for such incredible humour. The wacky Dr. Strangelove (Sellers a third time) reads easily as one of the "former" Nazis slipped into Western countries after WWII. The contrasting heavy intonations of Hayden as Ripper and the elastic face of George C. Scott as Gen. Buck Turgidson give as the range of military leaders. Both believe in themselves, and in their men, to an extreme degree. Each of them, Ripper sternly, Turgidson cackling "do they have a chance?! Why---" before catching what he's really saying combine as the fearful, yet absurd, might of American Military Supremacy. And none of these even touch on the rich sexual undertones of the film. Suffice to say, from Ripper's masturbatory handling of his cigar to Kong's ecstatic cries as he straddles the missile he's riding to hell, we can all see what's going on. Put it together, and you have a wickedly hilarious film. One of the greatest ever made, by one of the best to ever do it.