As science has progressed, especially in the past few hundred years since the Scientific Revolution, the field has slowly explained away many of nature’s literal supernatural interpretations and sacred objects: we no longer view the planets as literal gods in the sky, but as the nearly spherical collections of gas, dust, rock, and ice that they are. We now look to the stars in search of data, not deities. However, this gradual transition has not stopped humans from exploring their origin and place in the universe through space art, music, and film. Although some may think that the modern, scientific view of cosmology downplays spiritual importance from the heavens, Stanley Kubrick’s film 2001: A Space Odyssey uses monoliths in place of more typical religious deities to show that humans still look to the cosmos for a source of inspiration and creation in an otherwise cold, unforgiving universe. Kubrick shows that even modern science has room for objects that, while not supernatural, serve as a source of inspiration for humans in the face of struggle and as a force that creates new life, thus functioning as a deity.
According to Kubrick, space can provide divine inspiration to humans in times of need, divine in the sense that a religious god might do the same. This point becomes most clear within the “Dawn of Man” portion of the film when we see the first steps of humans’ evolution from apes. Within this section, a tribe of hominids attacks a rival tribe to claim their water hole, screaming and waving their arms to display strength and scare the rivals away. We later see these displaced hominids at night, huddling under an overhang of rock as the camera pans over their sleepless eyes, which dart back and forth as the snarls of predatory cats echo from above (2001 8:25-11:47). These apes cower in fear not only of the rival tribe and the dangers of the night but also in fear of what the unforgiving world has in store for them. It is at this point that one might expect a divine force or god to bestow some sort of wisdom on the hominids or perform an act of mercy to help them. Kubrick does exactly that: the hominids awaken at dawn to find a menacing monolith placed right next to their overhang without any explanation or disturbance (2001 11:27-16:54). We then witness said divine inspiration as the image of the sun and moon looming over the monolith prompts an ape to pick up a large femur bone and smash a tapir skeleton with it. As classical music swells in the background, we realize that the monolith has directly led to the hominids’ discovery of tools, setting them on a course of evolution that will lead to modern humans. This discovery has immediate implications as well: the tribe takes advantage of its newfound tools to hunt nearby tapirs, feasting on the bountiful meat. They launch an attack on the tribe that took their water hole, scaring off most of the hominids and even beating one unconscious with their brutal weapons (2001 16:54-19:50). In the face of thirst, hunger, death, and darkness, some external power presented itself to the meek and provided inspiration and guidance, immediately benefitting not just one tribe of hominids but the advancement of the entire species. The parallels to religion practically leap off of the screen. Although it seems difficult to compare a prism of stone to a god, Kubrick portrays the monolith as an object that functions as divine despite having no literal supernatural origin: it provides the inspiration of a deity and aids humanity in the darkest of times, just as we would expect from a religious power.
The monoliths do not only provide divine inspiration, however: they also play a direct role in elevating humanity to a new species, a sort of creation myth reminiscent of other religions. Although all monoliths within the film lead to humanity’s ascension to Star Children, the fourth and final appearance most directly demonstrates this religious role. After passing through a portal, astronaut Dave Bowman and his space pod enter a neoclassical hotel room as disturbing noises play in the background. While exploring the room in terror, he finds and then becomes older versions of himself before finally lying on his deathbed, decaying. Just before passing, the fourth monolith appears before the bed, looming over Dave as he lifts his finger toward the stone. In the face of death, this divine object grants the disintegrating human new life as a Star Child, a glowing fetus encased in a transparent shell. The camera zooms into the cold black of the monolith before transitioning to outer space, where Dave looks down upon the Earth as classical music swells again before the film fades to darkness (2001 2:11:31-2:20:30).
The monoliths function as creators: using only their power and the world before them, they essentially will new creatures into being. Some may argue that this scene depicts a transformation rather than a creation, since Dave already exists as a human and simply changes forms. Although this interpretation also supports the idea that the monoliths function as religious objects, it doesn’t communicate the level of divine power Kubrick intends since it ignores key imagery that paints the scene as one of creation: namely, the Star Child. Dave does not transform into some mature version of this new species, but instead starts anew, a wide-eyed child staring in wonder at the Earth below him. References to birth and conception crop up at other points in the film as well, such as the birthdays of Heywood Floyd’s daughter (2001 27:22-29:27) and Frank Poole (20011:03:55-1:05:50). Although creation in and of itself does not automatically indicate some divine action, it certainly falls among the duties of religious deities, and Kubrick intentionally litters the film with examples of birth to distinguish it from transformation. Although this creation myth differs significantly from those of most religions, Kubrick clearly paints the monoliths as divine forces that elevate the human race to the level of Star Child.
Upon first glance, these two religious roles, inspiration and creation, seem like two sides of the same idea. In every appearance, the monolith makes some sort of contribution toward humanity’s evolution into the Star Child, and some may even claim that trying to distinguish between inspiration and creation proves fruitless since the entire process simply represents the ascension of a species. However, Kubrick does not paint the monoliths as one-trick ponies: they have a wide range of powers, verging on omnipotent compared to both hominids and modern humans. Inspiration and creation have fundamental differences, and chief among them is whether humanity takes an active or passive role in their own evolution. In the beginning, the monolith takes the passive role: it simply plants the idea of tools within the minds of the hominids, who then take the active role of bettering their situation by hunting and waging war against rival tribes (2001 14:59-19:50). This idea draws parallels to religion as well: gods often send guidance to humans through visions and omens rather than taking direct action. Contrast this with the creation by the end of the film: no amount of divine inspiration will save Dave from his imminent death as he lies practically motionless on the bed. Rather, the monolith must take the action of evolving him into a Star Child, as humans still have nowhere near enough knowledge or technology to achieve this feat on their own (20012:11:31-2:20:30). Similarly, in religious creation myths, gods use their unique powers to create the universe and cannot rely on mortal ingenuity or strength. This fundamental difference between the passive nature of inspiration and the active nature of creation shows the true extent of the monoliths’ powers, which range from simply sharing ideas to literally molding life forms into pure energy. These aren’t simple machines designed for a single repetitive task: the monoliths wield many powers, functioning as gods in every sense other than the literal.
Kubrick’s portrayal of the monoliths as religious symbols demonstrates humanity’s persistent urge to find some creator and source of inspiration in the universe, despite the increasingly cold and calculated world of modern science. Just as the film’s final line of dialogue implies, humanity’s “origin and purpose” as a species are “still a total mystery,” and humans still feel the need to answer these questions by looking upwards (2001 1:56:55-1:57:01). According to Kubrick, the cosmos still contains divine, spiritual forces, whether they come in the form of a god or a slab of stone.
2001: A Space Odyssey. Directed by Stanley Kubrick, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1968.