All language subtitles for Kubrick’s 1998 acceptance speech for the D.W. Griffith Award_track3_[eng]

Stanley didn't change much.

I mean, his acceptance speech
about Icarus at the Director's Guild...

I mean, nothing could be more perfect.

The myth of Icarus flying too high
for success and the...

He says, "And people always took that
as a moral tale about hubris."

And he said, "Let's make better wings."

You know, it's so perfectly Stanley.

Good evening.

I'm sorry not to be able
to be with you tonight

to receive this great honor
of the D. W. Griffith Award,

but I'm in London, making Eyes Wide Shut

with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.

At just about this time,
I'm probably in the car,

on the way to the studio,
which, as it happens,

reminds me of a conversation
I had with Steven Spielberg

about what was the most difficult and
challenging thing about directing a film.

And I believe Steven summed it up
about as profoundly as you can.

He thought the most difficult
and challenging thing

about directing a film

was getting out of the car.

I'm sure you all know the feeling.

But at the same time, anyone who has ever
been privileged to direct a film

also knows that, although it can be like
trying to write War and Peace

in a bumper car in an amusement park,

when you finally get it right,

there are not many joys in life
that can equal the feeling.

I think there's an intriguing irony
in naming the Lifetime Achievement Award

after D. W. Griffith,

because his career was both
an inspiration and a cautionary tale.

His best films will always rank among
the most important films ever made,

and some of them made him
a great deal of money.

He was instrumental in transforming movies
from a nickelodeon novelty to an art form,

and he originated and formalized
much of the syntax of movie making,

now taken for granted.

He became an international celebrity,

and his patronage included
many of the world's leading artists

and statesmen of the time.

But Griffith was always ready
to take tremendous risks in his films

and in his business affairs.

He was always ready to fly too high.

And in the end, the wings of fortune
proved for him, like those of Icarus,

to be made of nothing more substantial
than wax and feathers.

And like Icarus, when he flew
too close to the sun, they melted.

And the man whose fame exceeded
the most illustrious filmmakers of today

spent the last 17 years of his life
shunned by the film industry he'd created.

I've compared Griffith's career
to the Icarus myth, but at the same time,

I've never been certain

whether the moral
of the Icarus story should only be,

as is generally accepted,

"Don't try to fly too high,"

or whether it might also be thought of as:

"Forget the wax and feathers,
and do a better job on the wings."

One thing, however, is certain.

D. W. Griffith left us with an inspiring
and intriguing legacy,

and the award in his name

is one of the greatest
honors a film director can receive,

something for which I humbly thank
all of you very much.