CRIMES OF THE FUTURE (May 2022)

  

CRIMES OF THE FUTURE

(May 2022)

BODY IS REALITY

 

The senior Cronenberg is back ‘round these parts with Crimes of the Future.

No, not his second, hour-long feature from 1970, but an all-new film that feels like a thematic extension to some of his previous works like Videodrome and eXistenZ. (Little wonder, that, since the screenplay was originally written over two decades ago.)

“‘Human’ is the operative word. Human evolution is the concern. That it's going wrong. That it's... uncontrolled, it's... insurrectional. It might lead us to a bad place.”

We find ourselves in an indeterminate point in the near-future, when the human body has begun to spontaneously grow new organs of equally indeterminate function (so-called “neo-organs”), and thus, bear witness to the violent (and virulent) collision of biological evolution, art, society, politics, pollution, and revolution.

“The creation of inner beauty cannot be an accident.”

With a haunting sonic backdrop by frequent collaborator Howard Shore, the senior Cronenberg once again drops us into an unsettling, disorienting reality, a world where the most mundane of activities like sleeping or eating become disturbing visions of the human body juxtaposed with pieces of shuddery, nightmare furniture.

“An organism needs organization. Otherwise, it's just designer cancer.”

So, yes, if it sounds like old school Cronenberg is back, then you heard right.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Eastern Promises, and as he himself has asserted, he sees no difference whatsoever between that kind of film and this new Crimes.

In his personal assessment, there is no such thing as “body horror.”

But what there is, is that very Cronenberg obsession with carnal transfiguration, the (r)evolution of the human body, and the impact that has on the world outside of all that shuddering skin and mutating meat.

“Long live the New Flesh,” indeed.

“We understand human bodies are changing. I know this quite well.”

(Crimes of the Future key art courtesy of bloody-disgusting.com.)

¡Qué horror! 2013

Candidate #6

ANTIVIRAL

(May 2012)

Welcome to the nation’s exclusive provider of A-list celebrity biomodification experiences. Enhance your life with a deeply chemical connection — like no other. Uncover a new relationship with your special someone today.

--from The Lucas Clinic website

Celebrity worship descends into madness in Brandon Cronenberg’s feature debut, Antiviral, where we are introduced to a world where--among other things--fans achieve “biological communion” with their idols by paying to be infected with viruses harvested from their famous bodies (for which the “celebrity hosts” are in turn paid by establishments like The Lucas Clinic).

“Mr. Lucas, how do you respond to critics who say the disease you’re really selling is a cultural one?”

--Talk Show Host

Antiviral (some of whose roots lie in the award-winning 2008 short film, Broken Tulips) is an astoundingly self-assured debut by Cronenberg, who possibly knows a thing or two about celebrity, being the son of David Cronenberg.

Like Jennifer Lynch, Brandon Cronenberg is the talented offspring of a noted writer/director who has gone on to follow in Father’s footsteps, and old school body horror Cronenberg can most definitely be seen in Antiviral.

There are also shades of Videodrome here, as a not-really-sympathetic protagonist gets sucked into shadowy and potentially lethal maneuverings.

“I’m afraid you’ve become involved in something sinister.”

--Dr. Abendroth

Caleb Landry Jones (who may be familiar from Daniel Stamm’s The Last Exorcism and Matthew Vaughn’s X-Men: First Class) brings just the right level of pale, sickly creepiness to the role of Lucas Clinic Technician Syd March, the aforementioned not-really-sympathetic protagonist, whose dealings with celebrity host Hannah Geist (Sarah Gadon, who also appears in the elder Cronenberg’s A Dangerous Method and Cosmopolis, as well as Mary Harron’s The Moth Diaries) trigger the dire situations he finds himself in over the course of Antiviral’s running time.

We’ve also got the exquisite Malcolm McDowell here as Geist’s personal physician, Dr. Abendroth, as well as some other Cronenbergs in the film’s crew (Brandon’s aunt, Denise Cronenberg, and his sister, Caitlin).

The range of [viral] offerings [from The Lucas Clinic] spans common skin infections and colds, to our more intense and lengthy experiences with communicable and rare forms of acute disease.

--from The Lucas Clinic website

This is powerful stuff (some may very well say revolting and repellent), as Cronenberg runs his cinematic scalpel deep into society’s celebrity obsessions and how our very own fixations and fascinations make us complicit in the widespread sickness that riddles the body cultural.

And yes, like old school David Cronenberg, this is transformative and transgressive cinema, so you have been duly warned.

“Celebrity is not an accomplishment. Not at all. It’s more like a collaboration that we choose to take part in. Celebrities are not people. They’re group hallucinations.”

--Dorian Lucas

(Antiviral OS courtesy of impawards.com.)

reVIEW (49)

THE BROOD

As I mention elsewhere in the Iguana, I first discovered David Cronenberg via Scanners. Fascinated by anyone who would put an exploding head on the big screen, I played Betamax Detective and quickly immersed myself in two of his earlier films, Rabid and The Brood.
Journeying ever deeper into Cronenbergia, 1983’s Videodrome saw me as a full-fledged citizen, and though the place isn’t quite as disturbing as it once was, I believe I’ll forever be a happy resident.

Dr. Hal Raglan (Oliver Reed), author of The Shape of Rage and head of the Somafree Institute of Psychoplasmics, believes that rage is an emotion which must be externalized so that his patients can properly deal with their psychological problems. And when his theories find their perfect vessel in Nola Carveth (Samantha Eggar), murder and mayhem, Cronenberg style, ensue.

The Brood, David Cronenberg’s fourth feature, explores the idea of will—specifically rage—sublimating into physical form, how pent-up emotions can trigger physiological changes in one’s body. In zeroing in on the troubled marriage between Nola and Frank (Art Hindle), and (through her role-playing sessions with Raglan) Nola’s relationship with her estranged parents (Henry Beckman and Nuala Fitzgerald), Cronenberg also explores how a family’s dysfunction can be passed on from generation to generation, how the scars—physical, psychological, or otherwise—can be handed down from mother to daughter to daughter’s daughter.
(It’s interesting to note that Cronenberg has attributed the inspiration of the film partially to the experience of a painful custody battle with his ex-wife over their daughter Cassandra.)

With an interesting visual echo of Nicholas Roeg’s Don’t Look Now, Cronenberg’s The Brood is a disturbing piece that boasts fine performances from Eggar and Reed.
The film also has import beyond itself, in that it signaled the beginning of a long-term—and extremely fruitful—collaboration with composer Howard Shore.

The Brood is horror with significant subtext, and in light of news of an impending remake, I’d be remiss in not directing you to the real thing.

(The Brood OS courtesy of impawards.com; DVD cover art courtesy of amazon.com.)

(Thanx go out to the J&R Travel Agency, for arranging my renewed access to the Somafree Institute.)