There are certain phrases that individuals state with ease: “I have to be by my myself”; “I can’t live with myself”; “I love myself.”
Kubrick’s Jack Torrance…on the verge of insanity or identity fulfillment?
These phrases indicate a clear distinction between the “I” and the “self.” Perhaps, upon uttering these statements, the individual is also initiating a self-imposed psychological examination. Rather than waiting for free association on a couch, the individual desires control and thus produces his own brand of psychoanalysis. The “I”—the over-worked yet emotionless ego—leaves the “self”—the lecherous and violent ego; the oppressive and hyperaware superego—to battle the crises of an identity threatened by external stimuli. Upon developing an understanding of the internal world and the exterior environment, the “I” and the “self” must eventually meet again: ultimately, the complete self is one who is grounded in a state of reality, possessing a cohesive, strong-willed identity amidst the ravages of everything else (perhaps, another linguistic presentation of the Freudian paradigm, this term separates the whole “self” from the external environment, or “thing”).
However, some personalities do not possess the language nor the strength for the reintegration of the “I” and the “self.” In The Shining, director Stanley Kubrick portrays Jack Torrance, an individual in extreme psychological peril: he cannot connect the “I” and the “self.” Like the typical person, Jack initiates this deviant version of psychoanalysis. However, he cannot grapple with the full revelation of his selves (the id and the superego); he is attempting to write through the madness (All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy), paradoxically widening the separation between his “I” and the conflicting “self.” Kubrick manipulates Jack’s vast identities, unveiling them in a suspended, dreamlike setting/reality (the Overlook hotel). Furthermore, the director rewrites the boundaries of the psychological thriller, crafting an insular world where the natural (snowstorm) and the supernatural (the “ghosts” that haunt the Overlook hotel) meet to expose the horrors of identity crises. Also, Kubrick builds on Alfred Hitchcock’s special genre, “Freudian horror films,” exploring the different methods psychoanalytic theories can be expressed and manipulated on the screen.
The Three Signs the Ego is “Sleeping” in The Shining:
1. The Reversal of the Oedipus Complex:
Upon separating his “I” and “self,” Jack allows psychological upheavals to disturb his familial role. Quite suddenly, his id and superego are overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions and desires—the typical ones, of course: sex, alcohol; as well as more covert ones: domestic bliss and external acknowledgement of his masculine roles. Because of his sleeping ego, Jack cannot reason with his ravished self. Therefore, he regresses to his former state: he is no longer a man but rather a child, investigating this new world of instinctual desires within the oedipal stages of development. This creates murderous desires within Jack the father; he longs to kill his son, Danny, who consumes all the intention of Wendy, the mother/wife. Jack chases his son through a winding maze, confused and driven by this murderous rage. Though he does crave the prescribed roles of fatherhood and boyhood—evident in the scenes where Jack communicates his deep regret for his previous incidents of alcohol-fueled violence—the writer does not possess the complete “self” to communicate this. Consequently, he chases his son with an axe, attempting to kill everything that hinders the desires of his id.
2. The Terrors of Displacement
Because the reality is too diseased for this new, “I”-less Jack, the writer subjects his wife to his growing frustrations. Further employing the Freudian paradigm, Kubrick ostensibly operates within the typical interpretation of displacement: Jack, the stronger individual, displaces all his hindrances on his wife Wendy, the weak and self-deprecatory persona. However, Kubrick complicates this defense mechanism. As the film progresses, Wendy assumes the masculine roles that Jack desperately wants: she keeps the Overlook hotel in order; cares for her mentally ailing son; and, ultimately saves the little fragments of their pseudo-family, fulfilling her own prescribed maternal role as well as upstaging Jack as the father (on a side note: one might even argue that Jack’s true yearning is to persevere traditional family ideals). Accordingly, Jack develops an insidiously profound hatred for his own wife. He longs to violate her for several reasons: firstly, she does not fulfill his own perception of what a wife should be (at times, he thinks her dumb and utterly incapable of understanding his creative mind); secondly, she does not quell his growing sexual needs; thirdly, she threatens that final connection between the “I” and the “self.” Quite literally, Wendy controls Jack’s physical place throughout the latter moments of the film, dragging his body throughout the Overlook manor and directing his steps (especially in scenes where Jack believes he is in control). Jack fails to properly assert power over his own wife. In the scenes of overt (yet not enacted) violence—Kubrick does not specify Jack’s intentions: it is not clear whether he longs to kill or sexually assault his own wife—Wendy, through shrewdness and genuine fear, always slips from his grip. As a psychological subject, Jack continues to debase himself: as he attempts to reintegrate himself into reality, Jack displaces his own frustrations on another psychological subject and renders himself defenseless.
3. No Written Word
Through the two perversions of the Freudian theories, Kubrick unveils his final destabilization of Jack. Jack considers himself a writer, a manipulator of words, imagination and senses. Yet, he can only type one phrase: “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.” His papers are lined with this singular phrase. Interestingly, this “work” creates a regression for Jack, forcing the writer to revert to his childlike psyche; moreover, the repetition of the phrase suggests that Jack has an unstable relationship with language. He understands the syntactical implications of the ordinary phrase (“I have to be by myself”). Arguably, Jack comprehends language more than any other persona within The Shining; therefore, the identity-strewed character deduces that he can write his “I” to the “self.” Kubrick enhances Jack’s addiction to words in the famed bathroom scene (Little pigs, little pigs…): the writer ironically rather than allegorically references the fairy tale, “Three Little Pigs.” He is not trying to teach any moral; rather, Jack is attempting to terrify his wife, utilizing specific words from the fairy tale (“I’ll huff and I’ll puff…”; “I’ll blow your house in”) to connote his violent intentions. Though he clearly displays a deep understanding of language, Jack still cannot write his magnum opus. Accordingly, Kubrick wonders: did Jack initiate this psychological trauma in order to write; or, did his difficult relationship with words engender the identity crisis?
The Shining examines countless psychological, social and even governmental ideologies and contradictions. Yet, the film completes these complex analyses through Jack’s identity crisis. Kubrick owes a huge debt to Sigmund Freud and Hitchcock’s revolutionary horror film, Psycho (1960). The thematic weight of The Shining is rooted in Jack’s neuroses and their effects on Wendy, the mother/wife, and Danny, the son/Jack’s masculine successor. Ultimately, The Shining is a creative extension of the psychological horror film: one that combines Freud and Hitchcock to leave the audience stating, “I maybe don’t want to ever be by myself.”
A Looking in View... 