It's hard to believe anything so self-important could ever exist – and yet, it’s not necessarily a great film. However, it is an extraordinary work of art. It certainly qualifies as a film, even if the term "film" feels inadequate to describe it. Kubrick has created something remarkable and dreamlike, arguably one of the most significant works of art I've encountered. The reason I keep calling it a film is simply that it transcends the definition; it’s an overwhelming sensory encounter rather than a conventional movie. If my meaning isn't clear, let me put it plainly: it's too exceptional to be considered just a film. It wasn’t particularly enjoyable or diverting, but it was undeniably impressive. One of the greatest works of art I know. The only mark taken off is because it doesn't quite fit the category of film. Kubrick frequently faces criticism for his detached perspective on human feelings, and that characteristic remains present here. Surprisingly (spoiler alert), the most emotionally resonant and relatable moment derives from the demise of a mechanical being. See this; it might not be fun, but it’s absolutely worthwhile.

Source on TMDB