The Other Aleph: Film as Poetry

Though the word "Aleph" is nearly synonymous with the late Argentine author, Jorge Luis Borges, and makes a few appearances in acrostic Psalms (Ps 37; Ps 119) in the Old Testament, the alphabetic character, idea, and literary source could also figure into The Shining. This parallel may be the product of synchronistic, or, magical thinking, but, The Shining being an overtly psychological horror/thriller film, this idea should not be ruled out simply because it is unusual. Much of what makes The Shining unsettling has to do with the logical inconsistencies, vexatious plot holes, and the subtle but disturbing upheaval of conventional horror tactics ("meditative scares" rather than "jump scares," prolonged, terrifying "climax," etc). Critics often say it has all of the trappings of a typical horror film without being a horror film. 

Kubrick was influenced by Jung's archetypes - universal and indestructible images which hold powerful, unified meanings for all people. The word "synchronicity" itself was coined by Jung, a fact which suggests a mode of thinking that strives to understand disparate phenomena, whether psychological or physical. Jung's influence shows most visibly in Full Metal Jacket and The Shining. The "duality of man" alluded to in the former speaks to Jung's self-explanatory thinking on moral duality: any good attribute has its opposite. This theme is also very strong in Psalms, and very much so in Psalms 37 and 119 where the acrostic references the Hebrew alphabet, each letter introducing an aphorism or prayer that alludes to a conflict and resolution in a few short lines. This in mind, with the ancient notion of good and evil, you almost can't say "man" without meaning man in his duality.   

It isn't coincidental that I mention Borges; when it comes to themes of modernity, especially as it applies to architecture, we should consider that Kubrick had read Borges and Kafka prior to the production of The Shining, and mentions both writers' clear, simplistic style in a 1980 interview with Vicente Molina Foix. This is revealing, if only for the fact that Borges is forever associated with the labyrinth, while Kafka is arguably associated with the urban, alienated individual. The common criticism that Kubrick's films are cold, distant, and even cynical reflects at some level the filmmaker's inspirations. I could go on probably for hours about the implications of Kubrick's intentional employment of coldness, irony, and isolation in his films, but I won't.

Kafka's alienated characters attempt to navigate complex, inhumane, labyrinthine built environments in most of his stories and novels. These environments, such as early-20th century New York, which Karl Rossmann is confronted by in Amerika, are timeless. Before the young man disembarks from the Hamburg America Line (a coincidental reference to HAL9000 in 2001: A Space Odyssey) ship, he makes several missteps, including entrusting his only suitcase to a stranger, and, allowing himself to become embroiled in an argument between the ship's stoker, to whom Karl is sympathetic, and the ship's upper management. Karl Rossmann almost mirrors Dave Bowman, who takes issue with his spaceship's management, namely, the supercomputer HAL. Karl wanders through the dark and winding interior of the ship, which is almost entirely empty of people, just as Bowman and Poole are virtually lost within their spaceship in 2001, only able to communicate with supercomputer HAL, while the other three astronauts hibernate in their coma-pods. By the third and final part of the film, Bowman dismantles HAL and propels the ship through an infinite, dark space, entirely alone. "HAL" mirrors the shipping line in Kafka's novella - both are distant, bureaucratic entities. More could be said of this connection, surely.

But, I was here to talk about The Shining. It doesn't hurt to point out that Kubrick focused on themes of isolation, group dynamics, and individualism many times before. Even Full Metal Jacket, with all of its group dynamics, is still very much about the individual experience of those dynamics, dramatized by a war-time setting (further - in the late '60s, when "group" dynamics would have coincided with communalism, socialism, hippies, etc). Barry Lyndon, too, is about one man making his way to his idea of success in 19th century Europe. In Lolita, the story of Humbert Humbert reflects the dual-natured reality of a single, very troubled man's obsessive (taboo, and illegal) pursuit of a teenaged girl. The Killing could be read through the character of George Peatty, who has been taken advantage of by his wife, friends, and employment - the conspirators representing yet again a rogue group dynamic. A Clockwork Orange centers on the experience of Alex, and Eyes Wide Shut focuses on Bill, yet there are significant examples of group dynamics in both too. 

Back to Borges. In "The Immortal," Borges uses first-person narration to describe the journey a Roman soldier (an alienated individual) makes to a mysterious city.

I had made my way through a dark maze, but it was the bright City of the Immortals that terrified and repelled me. A maze is a house built purposely to confuse men; its architecture, prodigal in symmetries, is made to serve that purpose. In the palace that I imperfectly explored, the architecture had no purpose. There were corridors that led nowhere, unreachably high windows, grandly dramatic doors that opened onto monk like cells or empty shafts, incredible upside-down staircases with upside-down treads and balustrades. Other staircases, clinging airily to the side of a monumental wall, petered out after two or three landings, in the high gloom of the cupolas, arriving nowhere. I cannot say whether these are literal examples I have given; I do know that for many years they plagued my troubled dreams; I can no longer know whether any given feature is a faithful transcription of reality or one of the shapes unleashed by my nights.

Similarly, purposeless and immense structures figure into Amerika in the form of skyscrapers, country estates, hotels, and ships. Like many of Edward Hopper's paintings, individuals, not groups, are camouflaged within the loneliness of large natural, urban, and domestic environments. From the introductory helicopter shots in The Shining, the Overlook Hotel appears enormous, imposing, and castle-like. It is ostentatious, sitting completely isolated on a rugged mountain range. The main idea that can be distilled from the excerpt above is this single line: 

A maze is a house built purposely to confuse men; its architecture, prodigal in symmetries, is made to serve that purpose.

Mirrors, symmetries, dualities - this is what Borges suggests is the basis of confusing, deceptive architecture. Literal mirrors and symbolic "mirroring" is at the core of The Shining and much of Kubrick's work. For instance, consider that Stephen King and Stanley Kubrick have the same initials. "SK" mirrors "SK." King's extreme dislike of Kubrick's interpretation of his novel only exacerbates the idea of dualities or mirrors: King = good, Kubrick = bad. Note also that if we wanted to assign numerical values to these initials, we would arrive at something like: S = 19, K = 11. We can read "SK" like a year: "1911." In the film, the final image we see is a framed photograph showing Jack at the center of a ritzy ball at the hotel, July 4, 1921. This would be 10 years after 1911. As others have noted, 19+11 = 30, and, 1+9+1+1 = 12. Both numbers are of some significance. If, for example, "SK" is "12," then the dual "SK" of King vs. Kubrick spells "12" and "12." Night and day. "24" in total, like hours in a single day. 

As a note on the strangeness of mirrors - when Danny writes "Redrum" in red lipstick on Wendy's bedroom door, he spells the "D" and "R" backwards. When reversed, however, the first four letters "MURD" are correctly spelled, leaving the "ER" backwards-facing. "M" and "U" are symmetrical.

During Jack's first visit to the Gold Room where he imagines a bartender named Lloyd, he refers to the bills he's carrying: two $10s, and two $20s. Jack wants to get rid of these bills. If we add these numbers, we get 60. 60 can be divided in two, to get 30 and 30. But, if we add 60 to 1921, we get 1981 - one year after the film's release. If we presume the film takes place in 1980, when it was released, then we can subtract 60 from 1980 and arrive at 1920. Does Jack want to go back in time? Perhaps. Rob Ager of Collative Learning points out that President Woodrow Wilson placed all American banks under the auspices of the Federal Reserve in 1921, allowing for the banishing of the gold standard. A line of thinking is that the Federal Reserve's refusal to lend money worsened and prolonged the depression. The topic has been subject to many conspiracy theories. Ager has written a good deal about the theme of gold - as color, symbol, and subtext - in The Shining. It appears Kubrick was concerned about the reliability of banks and cash, and at some point advocated buying gold, so it isn't out of the question. If we break apart 1921 and add it's individual figures (1+9+2+1) we arrive at 13. 13 is one more than 12, which is the sum of 1911. 1911 also gives us 11, so we see a similar sequence emerging. In 10 years, we advance 1 step (1931: 1+9+3+1 = 14, etc). 

The pacing of The Shining largely reflects the novelty of steadicam which allowed for long, balanced tracking shots. For this reason, the pacing and visual language of The Shining is architectonic in nature. The rectilinear, maze-like halls of the Overlook Hotel dictate how characters (and the camera) moves. There are certainly exceptions: when Jack intimidates Wendy, forcing her to walk backwards up a large set of stairs, the movement does not follow a straight line. The excessive size of Jack's "writing room" is cartoonish: thirty-foot ceilings, gothic "wheel" chandeliers, Native American tapestries, furnished sitting areas, fireplace, enormous windows, etc. 

13 is a loaded number whose relevance and significance in the film Fell Ryan has shown in a number of instances. If we add 1981 in a similar manner (1+9+8+1) we get 19. 19 mirrors the century in which 1921, 1980, 1942, and 1981 all took place (though we would say twentieth century, not nineteenth). Still, we have 20 and 10 and 19. A lot of bad things happened in years beginning with "19," arguably, too many events to list. 

Consider the office of Stuart Ullman with the impossible window where Jack interviews for the caretaker position. But first, a note on the window: the window is considered impossible because the office is located in the interior of the Overlook Hotel; however, I would speculate that there is a similarity between the office's impossible window and the maze's possible center. Perhaps the Overlook Hotel has a hidden courtyard, like, say, the Pentagon in Arlington County, just across the river from D.C. The Pentagon is a very strange, powerful, and physically enormous example of American Federal architecture. It is, oddly, or not, a modern version of a colonial "star fort," a military fortress built in geometric pattern to maximize defense from invasion. 9/11 would "prove" the compound's weaknesses in a modern warfare environment. Ullman appears very presidential behind the mahogany desk with the small American flag and fountain pens. The White House doesn't have a courtyard, but the Pentagon does. "Caretaker," while a euphemism of "gravedigger," could also be read as "defender" or "protector." It seems Ullman wants Jack to protect and preserve the Overlook. The Pentagon, of course, houses the Department of Defense. Ullman's appearance has been compared to JFK, an idea that, in 1980 as well as now, hints at the dark, dirty story of the late president's assassination. Since his televised, public assassination in 1963, countless conspiracy theories have gained near-mainstream status. 

It would take too much time to recount the significance of the Aleph. But I'll give an overview: the maze as reality and concept is explored several times in The Shining. We are reminded of the Ancient Greek myth of the minotaur in the maze. The mini-epic poem "Catullus 64" by Roman poet, Catullus, is as labyrinthine as the labyrinth at Knossos which it depicts. Theseus, the hero, will slay the minotaur in the labyrinth, and marry Ariadne. Her love has helped him to defeat the minotaur. 

Jack follows Danny into the maze at the Overlook hotel to murder him. Danny outsmarts Jack and reunites with his mother, Wendy, after hiding, and retracing his steps. To the left of Ullman's head is an eagle carving which almost looks like the letter "X."  

Or, does it look like the Aleph?

As has been noted before, the eagle, which appears on Jack's "Stovington" t-shirt, and indirectly, in the Adler typewriter ("Adler" being the German word for "eagle") he uses to type hundreds of pages containing the same 10 words (and 42 characters), is a small but blatant reference to the literal embodiment and representation of the eagle as a symbol of total power and terror. It is less well-known that the Nazis found inspiration in American notions of Eugenics which proliferated with popularity in the early twentieth century. But the eagle does allude to Nazi Germany. The number 42 figures into The Shining in a variety of ways, pointing to the fact that the Final Solution was carried out in 1942. The freezer Hallorann shows the Torrances during the tour of the Overlook Hotel has been compared to a photograph of concentration camp barracks. The resemblance is uncanny. 

"Adler" begins with the letter "A." "A" is the Aleph, and so "aleph" is also "eagle." The eagle carving coincides aesthetically with the Hebrew Aleph. The Aleph was descended from the Phoenician alphabet. The ancient linguists based the shape of the letter on the head of an Ox, which is quite similar to a bull or Minotaur (part bull, part man), as it is a horned cattle/bovine animal. We also have the strange skier poster in the game room where Danny has a vision (of the twins) that may suggest the presence of a minotaur. 

 

The poster is also given the title "Monarch" which suggests the idea of Kings, Kingdoms, and castles. "A" is mighty, and close to God. The Overlook is itself a maze of the Escher kind: the stairs lead down and up simultaneously, depending on our perspective. Wendy ascends or descends; Jack follows or leads; Danny escapes or deceives. 

Snow and mirrors

 

Wendy and Danny both make their first appearance seated at the dining table at the Torrance apartment in Boulder, Colorado. Wendy is smoking a cigarette. Stacks of books are seen to the left of screen, and a few dozen also on the shelf in the upper background. Wendy is holding a copy of J.D. Salinger's classic coming-of-age novel The Catcher in the Rye. There are a few interesting things going on here. 

First, the particular copy of the novel Wendy is holding has almost identical front and back covers. 

This symmetry or "mirror" theme ties back to the introduction shot of the mountains and lake. Later, we will see Jack looking left into a bathroom mirror on two different occasions as the shot dissolves (shown below). Later still, the "Murder/Redrum" reversal Danny sees in a literal mirror, and, Jack being "assaulted" by his reflection in the three mirrors approaching the Gold Room reinforce the mirror theme, and speak to symmetry/asymmetry. There are countless other examples I won't mention which nonetheless render this small detail somewhat interesting. 

Next, with a quick analysis of characters or letters, we find that "The Catcher In The Rye" is spelled with 18 letters. 18, as a number, also divides (mirrors) into a set of two 9s. If we combine the two 18s we get 36, which then divides into two pairs of 9. If we take (9x9) + (9x9) we get 81+81=162. 162 can also be 1+6+2=9. Or, we can take 36 and say that 3+6=9, which is interesting, as is the fact that 3x6=18. 3x6, expressed in terms of addition, is 6+6+6, which is a portent of evil, i.e., the "number of the beast."  Supposedly, the number is a cypher for the Roman dictator Nero, and is alluded to in the Book of Revelations. To make things circular, 18 can be 1+8=9. Two 18s, then, could be two 9s, which would yield... 18, or, 9x9=81, the visual reversal of 18. 18 or 81, expressed as addition problems, could give us 9 once again. So we've arrived at a point of infinite circularity in examining these arbitrary (or not) numbers. 

Now, I will note that "J.D. Salinger" also appears on front and back covers of these vintage editions. "J.D. Salinger" is 10 letters. So, 10 on front and 10 on back - these "two tens" could tie us back to Jack's comment to Lloyd the bartender about the "two twenties and two tens" in his wallet. Jack says he's afraid they would be there until next April. During the interview Ullman says the hotel's season runs from May 15 to October 30th. That's about five months. Jack's position, taking care of the hotel during the winter, would run seven months, from November to May. Yet, Jack says "five months of peace is just what I want." It seems that Jack has misunderstood Ullman. Still, if we take Jack's misunderstood idea of a five-month job and Ullman's statement about the official five-month season, we have 5 and 5. Though the 7 is absent here, it will appear in Eyes Wide Shut. Instead, we have the notion, maybe, of a 10-month year. Written as dates, the hotel operates from 05/15 through 10/30. Written as 515 and 1030, it is clear that 515 is one half of 1030. These numbers don't imply a duodecimal (numeral 12) system. 

For some trivia, we can look to none other than Christopher Clavius. The German Jesuit astronomer sat on the Vatican commission that accepted a reformed Julian calendar that ultimately became the Gregorian calendar still used today in the US, Europe, Russia, China, and much of the world. "Clavius" is the name of a crater on the moon. In 2001: A Space Odyssey, the monolith is buried within the Clavius Crater, which has become the Clavius Base. It is fitting that the mysterious monolith is buried in a mysterious crater named after a proponent of the "monolithic" modern calendar. We have to wonder whether the monolith pummeled into the moon, and if that was how the Clavius crater was formed. There are a few shots of floating monoliths in the latter part of the film which seems to suggest that that monolith, or other similar monoliths, were floating in space, like alien, or, man-made asteroids. 

Going back to the Salinger novel, we have 18/10 and 18/10. This could be written 9/5 and 9/5. 9/5 is also 9-5, as in the typical American Job, 9am-5pm, five days per week. Jack used to be a teacher, but that was more a way of "making ends meet." We also have the obvious insanity of "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." We discover that Danny began talking to Tony some time after Jack injured him. In the story, Jack is out drinking one night and comes home three hours late. Angered by a mess of Danny's school papers, Jack grabs Danny and ends up dislocating his shoulder. Then we learn Jack has been sober for five months. In other words, we have a "___ months later" scenario; that is, five months after Jack's sobriety and Danny's injury, the Torrances will inhabit the Overlook Hotel. This, again, is a reference to 5 months, not to mention Jack's first monologue with Lloyd when he makes a toast: "here's to five miserable months on the wagon, and all the irreparable harm that its caused me." 

Five months is an unusual unit of time. Since 6 months is one half of a year, any 5 month period will always be an irregular period of time measured against the 12-month year. At best, these periods reduce back to 5/6. But, take a period of three 5-month spans, and we have 15 months. We measure this against the closest familiar unit - 18 months, or, 1 1/2 years. 15/18 does not reduce neatly. Measured against a two-year period, we have 15/24, which similarly, is ugly and irregular. Yet the "10-month year" possibly implied in Ullman and Jack's conversation, in fact, has roots in Ancient Rome. Those extra two months tie us back to "two tens." 

It is of some interest that the number 18 also ties back to 2001: A Space Odyssey. The second part of the film is indicated by a title card that reads "Jupiter Mission: Eighteen Months Later." This comes just after we see Heywood Floyd and the other astronauts taking a look at the buried monolith. Just before the third sequence, "Jupiter and Beyond the Infinite," Dave Bowman dismantles HAL's memory, only to "trigger" a pre-recorded video. It almost seems intended for Bowman's viewing alone. The speaker says that eighteen months ago the first evidence of intelligent life beyond earth was discovered. Put simply, we have another reference to a pair of 18s. 

Interestingly too, though this is better suited for a discussion of 2001, is that this pair of 18s form the beginning and end of a sequence. So, this pair of 18s is also symmetrical. Also symmetrical is the introductory "Dawn of Man" sequence. The monolith is discovered first by the hominids, then later discovered or rediscovered by Homo sapiens, or people, ostensibly tens of millions of years later, in what appears to be our near future (or recent past). The irony and tragedy is that this dual discovery occurs in the same "Dawn of Man" sequence, and forms a mirror: the monolith appears near the beginning, and again at the end. While this sequence or chapter spans maybe a hundred million years, the middle chapter runs about 63 minutes (1 hour), much of the action happening in "real time." 

There are at least two more examples of 18 in 2001, just to reiterate the strange appearance of the number. The space-ship the five astronauts occupy has a rear structure with three hexagonal booster-type pads. Also, in the space station, the lobby desk features a check-in area with 18 clearly-numbered computer-based "documentation" booths. 

Number 7: a prelude

It would be difficult to capture all significant instances concerning the number "7" in Eyes Wide Shut. But I think the topic warrants serial entries, and I'll try to cover a good bit of ground in this post. That won't preclude me from elaborating on "7" in future posts. The most recent occurrence of "7" I noticed was something that has bugged me during the billiards room scene. 

Ziegler stands at the edge of the pool table dialoguing with Bill. Notice his hands: three fingers and thumb are visible on his right hand, and thumb and two fingers are visible on left hand. Yes - seven digits are visible, perched on the table. And yes, I think they are "perched," rather like that of an eagle or owl. This exact same "4" and "3," or "7-finger perch" is seen earlier, when Ziegler breaches the subject of why he really brought Bill out so late at night. The first appearance of the seven-digit pose is below.

Ziegler's pose is intentional and conscious, yet relaxed. The two fingers and thumb of his left hand actually somewhat resemble a claw or talon of, say, an eagle or owl. Eagles are a frequent symbol for Kubrick in Eyes Wide Shut and The Shining, but the owl seems to offer some competition for the eagle in terms of symbolic power. This, again, would be another post, but there are certainly connections to this "wise" creature whose occult importance dates to Ancient Greece. In modern times, it has been used by Freemasons, and appears as an architectural detail on many buildings at Yale University. Owls appear on older academic buildings at other colleges too, not to mention commercial and civic buildings. More recently, in addition to the Frost Bank Tower, whose spiky glass apex and sun-like false-clocks mimic an abstract image of an owl's head, at a condominium tower in the city of Austin, Texas, the developer installed on the grounds two ten foot tall owls which are designed with a robotic system that enables the owl's heads to pivot. If you thought security cameras were creepy, just think about two giant owls staring you down at night. Keep Austin Weird, I guess. 

The giant sculpture at Bohemian Grove in Northern California (above), to which burned effigies are offered, is an owl. It's rumored to be a disguise for the ancient deity Moloch, mentioned in the Bible, to whom were offered human and even child sacrifices. The grove events are attended by "the best people:" several former presidents, government higher-ups, corporate leaders, celebrities, philanthropists, etc. Wisdom, foresight, bad luck, night, death, etc., are ascribed to the owl, historically, in a variety of different myths. 

Speaking of owls, why not show the strange, symmetrical vase that appears in Ziegler's billiards room, on a window sill. I always thought it looked like a Great Horned owl. Consider the positioning in my quickly-annotated photo which suggests a larger form, beastly in appearance.

The vase becomes the owl's head, while the two tables fill out the hominid-esque body. Coincidence or not? Who knows. The zoom comes from the below shot. The shot only lasts about three seconds. Notice also the striped 9 ball and the 5 ball on the table. 9 and 5 might hint at "nine to five," as in, a job. Maybe this points to Ziegler's role in Mandy's death - Ziegler's business is dark. Or, maybe, it points to Bill's sense of duty - he visits Ziegler as if visiting a patient. Together, 9 and 5 equal 14. 14 is 7 twice. "Ziegler" is 7 and "Harford" is 7. So we have two 7s meeting. 

The 9 ball and 5 ball even seem to form the angles of a triangle in the triangular corn of the red pool table. A triangle with two interior angles of 9° and 5° would need a third angle of 166°. 

Above is an example I created using an online tool. I don't think there's any great scheme here, other than the idea of triangulation. Woody Allen, for example, supposes in his 1975 comedy, Love and Death:

A: Socrates was a man, B: All men are mortal, C: All men are Socrates; that means all men are homosexuals. I'm not a homosexual - once, some cossacks whistled at me. 

Triangulation - a third piece of information connects two known pieces of information. Even in ancient times, triangulation was used to measure objects like trees, or the pyramids, using eyesight and arithmetic. I'm tempted to show the creepy pyramid-with-eye we've all seen on the backside of the dollar bill. A triangle can also be formed using 166°, 7°,  and 7°, reinforcing the idea of "two sevens," Ziegler and Harford, as equal forces. And perhaps we can see subtext of power in the pool balls when the camera cuts back to Ziegler. As can be seen in the image earlier, the 10 ball and 1 ball are visible before Ziegler. Before Bill are the 9 and 5 ball. Bill: 14, Ziegler: 11. Is Bill winning because he has more? 

In Ziegler's first seven-finger pose, the "10" ball and the "1" ball are the only two pool balls shown in the shot, next to the pool cue. But we also have Ziegler's 7 fingers, and a sum of "11" on the table. In at least one or two shots, there are also pictured 11 pool balls on the table. So, whether it's the "10" and "1" ball equalling "11," or eleven actual balls, we are reminded of the eleven women/concubines Bill witnesses at Somerton. As an aside, 7 and 11 equal 18, an important number for those trying to keep their "personal affairs" legal. Legality aside, we're reminded that eightteen and nineteen are included in the same bracket as, say, thirteen. 

If Mandy is the "1" who is disappeared, then (maybe) we're left with 10. So, again, "10" and "1:" Bill sees Mandy as an individual, unmasked, therefore feels empathy for her. Behind the mask, he is hardly sure that it was Mandy who warned him, and that it was Mandy who "saved" him, and that it was Mandy who ended up in the morgue. 

And then, there's a strange revelation: take 1 from 11 - what if 11 is just a way of writing "1?" "11" is, after all, written by repeating a "1." 1 vs 11 vs 111... the number grows, but it represents the individual, just as "Bill" represents the individual, and the single dollar bill. The "magic" circle at Somerton involved only "1" woman. Eleven, there, was just "more than one," but the number is maybe meaningless to the elite organizers. I think, without a doubt, a tragic fact that Bill begins to understand, is that "those" people, the "best people," don't have much regard for human life. It was Mandy this time, which Bill witnessed, but is it possible it will be the other ten, in due time? If, like Ziegler suggests, the whole thing was a "fake," then was Mandy's fate preordained? And if so, this would suggest that the other ten women are less than one. Nameless, faceless, and unknown. Bill's knowledge is the exception - he chances, dangerously, upon names, faces, and the known. But again, he is treading dangerous waters up to the end of the film. Bill's ability to witness the events (real or "staged") puts him in a bind, and I'd argue this is by design. 

It could be that Bill is being blackmailed merely for deceiving the people at Somerton. But it could also be that he is being blackmailed by design. There are some very dark corners in Eyes Wide Shut, one of those being that the spy or stalker, a bald man wearing a tan wool coat, "first" seen near the end of the film, is also seen much earlier, seated at the Sonata Cafe, very close to the stage where Nick is performing with the band. Granted, we only see the back of his head, so it could be a double, or a coincidence. But this is to be doubted. Could it be that Ziegler had "eyes and ears," so to speak, at the ball? I think so, and I think this could explain the spy's appearance at the Sonata Cafe. It may have concerned Ziegler that Bill and Nick were speaking. Maybe he ordered the spy to follow Nick, not Bill. This is possible, and likely. 

Going all the way back to 2001: A Space Odyssey, we can recall the moment when HAL lip-reads Dave and Frank's "private" conversation in the pod. This allows HAL to counterattack, and likely is the reason HAL kills Frank: HAL knows that Frank and Dave have plotted to kill him first. Conspiracy is far from unusual in Kubrick's filmography, rather, it's often a central theme. Alex is the conspiratorial leader of his Droogs until he falls prey to an insurgent counter-conspiracy which lands him in prison, and more, in A Clockwork Orange. The world's super-powers discuss nuclear war in a pedestrian manner while their individual constituents and military commanders are desperate for action in Dr. Strangelove. There are several sub-plots, offering a humorous take on conspiracy. Redmond Barry's many facades and deceptions are conspiratorial in nature, and serve to help Barry climb the social ladder in Barry Lyndon. The Killing is an overt conspiracy film as it involves a race-track heist carried out by a sizable group of men who ultimately have their own selfish interests separate from the group goal. Lolita encounters similar themes as Eyes Wide Shut, only 37 years earlier. To name a few. 

Obviously, the themes are timeless, but still. A bit of interesting trivia: Tom Cruise was born July 3, 1962, meaning he would have just turned 37 in 1999 when Eyes Wide Shut was released on July 16. We could even note that the 16th was 13 days after the 3rd. 13, again: Cruise would have been 13 days into his 37th year. As for 37, the two numbers are added to "10" and multiplied to "21." 

Anyways, back to the topic of "7" and the billiards room. 

Looking at Ziegler's authoritative pose above, we should also notice that the cue and the two balls, uh, align with Ziegler's waist in a way that's...not suggestive. At all. Any Kubrick obsessive has probably seen the overlay that establishes the subconscious connection between Ziegler's remark "knocking a few balls around." I've recreated it below. The cut of Bill approaching the door, and Ziegler's pose just before getting up to answer, align in the center of screen (as is typical with Kubrick), humorously showing Ziegler taking dead aim at Bill's family jewels. The overlay also reminds us of the color scheme: blue window, green lamp-shades, red felt pool table, yellow and white lamps, and probably a range of other colors. It might not be ROY-G-BIV, formally, but it is worth noting.

Additionally, one detail that may be random is seen in the lower left corner of the painting left of Ziegler's head. 

The image is a dog with black and white fur. If I had to guess, I would say it is a border collie, a breed originating in England and Scotland, known to be the smartest dog, and used to herd sheep. If I had to guess, I would say Ziegler is the energetic dog "running circles" around a sheepish Bill. Ziegler's mood changes from friendly to somber to playful to resentful, angry, and back to friendly. Black and white as a color theme is its own topic, for sure (Bill and Nick in black and white tux, etc.), but it's these strong contrasting colors that allow for a curious image. 

Maybe it's also time to mention Nick Nightingale's wool sport coat. Ok, maybe it's tweed, but we have the idea that Nick is a "wolf in sheep's clothing." He shoots devilish looks at Bill, his face morphing with Rorschach-ian shadows. The white tuxedo at Ziegler's ball confirms this idea of Nick-as-angelic. Lucifer, of course, means "bright star;" Lucifer is said to be a fallen angel who eventually ruled over Hell. The white tux echoes sheep which are often white. I've also drawn what I've interpreted to be the numbers 7 and 8 to the left and right of Nick's head, respectively. The "7" is backwards, but the shape is unmistakably  seven-like. I take these numbers to be part of a series. The Nick's picture in the playbill outside the Sonata which I've posted about previously, looks like a "6," and precedes this scene and these numbers chronologically. 

Back to the dog picture: combined with the set of legs in brown slacks, the fragments almost seem to spell "711" or "0711," or "1711." The dog's chest and leg look like a "7," while the man's legs look like "11." The dog's hind leg looks a bit like a "0" or letter "o," or a small "1." Maybe this is a stretch, maybe. But I don't care. Now that we have "7" and "11" in mind, consider this Expressionist painting by August Macke. The German painter was 27 when he died in 1914, fighting in the First World War (14 being two times 7). 

A reproduction of this painting is seen on the wall of Bill's office. 

Consider the elements of the painting: a window or door in the center that looks like a number "7," a blue door on the right of the painting, and two windows that look like ones, or "11" together. Bill's condo door is also royal blue, as is his private office door. The gates of Somerton are also blue. There is a figure in red wearing a fez (hat vs. mask) following behind two or more red-cloaked individuals entering a building beneath the "7" shaped window.  

Seven is the number of letters in the word "Fidelio" which acts as an ironic password to the infidelities of Somerton. Seven is also the number of letters in the surnames "Ziegler" and "Harford." 

"7" is the number of colors in the visible spectrum of light known as ROY-G-BIV, an acronym for each name of the seven colors. There are also seven letters in the word "rainbow" which obviously denotes the natural phenomenon. Speaking of rainbows, at Ziegler's party, Nuala and Gayle (whose five-letter names add to 10) want to take Bill to "where the rainbow ends." One way I've interpreted this is that they want to take him to the "end of color." The "end of color" may be the beginning of "monochrome," i.e., black and white. This can be read as good vs. evil, light vs. dark. It can also be read as a retreat into the past. Since white light contains all colors, then black, a total absence of light, in logical terms, rejects all colors. If I recall correctly, there are no decorations or Christmas trees in Ziegler's billiards room. The "game" room is in fact intended for the opposite purpose: serious business. So, this too is an "end of the rainbow" place, like Somerton, and like Bill's apartment when he switches off the rainbow-colored lights on the Christmas tree. 

Like Ziegler's seven fingers or "digits," there are also 7 digits in a telephone number. 10 if we need area code (10 fingers total), and 11 if we need to identify country. Let's use the number that appears on the Vitali Realty sign: 212-555-5005. 212 is the area code used for most of Manhattan. Added, "212" = 5. 212 is also a weird symmetrical/mirror number where "21" is made into "12" when omitting the third number. "555," the film industry's non-functional prefix/central office code is a sum of 15. "5005" adds to 10. "5005" is also a mirror, which, in this way, is "50" twice, or, "100." Bill tears a $100 Bill (Benjamin Franklin) in half before making his deal with the cabbie at the gates of Somerton. 

So, we have 5, 15, and 10. We can read this as 15+5= 20, and 10, and think back to The Shining, when Jack tells Lloyd he has "two tens and two twenties." Of course, this is only half, as 20 and 10 equal 30 in total. If we add "1" to the Vitali number to identify the country, USA, then we arrive at 21 and 10. Funnily, "1" would also suggest a patriotic, nationalistic "USA #1" theme. With the deep blue and white USPS mailboxes with eagles, we have several other symbols already establishing the strength of an American Empire. Of course, the "1" doesn't appear in front of the phone number.  

But, 21 is significant, as is 10. Together, we arrive at 31, also significant. No, the "1" isn't shown on the sign, so maybe this doesn't matter. But this is the power of one, no? Bill is the "individual" we follow throughout the film, and the saying "dollar bill" literally means a $1 bill. With a difference of only 1, we get 21, the reverse of 12, a number very relevant in The Shining, it being half of "42," a number with several eerie appearances, and a multiple of "7," of interest here. We just saw "212" in reference to the strange "Vitali Realty" sign. "31" is the symmetrical opposite of "13," an ominous, unlucky number. I've probably posted before that when divided into the two largest sums, 13 yields 6, 6, and 1. Or, 6, 1, and 6, and that "616" has been interpreted as the true "number of the beast" denoting evil. But let's just accept that a phone number at minimum has 7 numbers, though possibly 10 or 11 (I'm not counting the possibility of extensions!).