I'm a sucker for looking at this stuff -- the writing of the film-maker -- the notes and scratchings, the whole process -- even if it is behind glass and sort of goofy, displayed in a museum.
It's weird to look at the iconic typewriter that Jack Nicholson's character typed on (especially after my frustrating morning with The Brothers and the bonfire that wasn't):
All work and no play makes me a dull --
I skirted the Clockwork Orange room:
but was mesmerized by a guy in bright orange pants and a blue hat outside of it:
I have a mixed relationship with Kubrick films --
and really hate some others: A Clockwork Orange, Full Metal Jacket, Eyes Wide Shut. I can tell you, though, when and where I was when I saw each one.
By the time I walked home, I had cooled off, and instead of lighting a bonfire, I dumped clean clothes from the dryer in the middle of their room and walked out, eyes wide shut.