Showing posts with label David Cronenberg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label David Cronenberg. Show all posts

Review: The Brood (1979)


THE BROOD (1979)
Director: David Cronenberg

From the first scene in David Cronenberg’s ’79 effort The Brood, the viewer is made uncomfortable. We watch in horrified anger, much as the film's protagonist Frank Carveth does, while the process of a new psychiatric procedure called psychoplasmics is exhibited for an audience. A grown man whimpers in front of the audience as the bizarre and explosive Dr. Raglan verbally abuses him and likens him to a little girl, while play-acting as the man’s father. Once he hits the breaking point, the patient rips off his shirt and reveals several red welts and growths have formed through his therapy, like his insecurities and instabilities have started to fight their way out of his body.

Exposition goes as such, Frank Carveth is in the middle of a custody battle for his daughter. Carveth’s wife Nola is in intensive therapy with Dr. Raglan, using the dangerous new method of psychoplasmics, after abusing her daughter, when strange murders start to occur. Child-sized creatures start killing various people that might keep Nola away from her daughter. Frank is forced to investigate and fight, at first for his marriage, then for the custody of his child, and then for the lives of his family.

The Brood shares a few tonal similarities with the last hour or so of The Shining (released a year later). Every part of it feels very cold, rooms are sparse and all very similar, and often in the windows you see a snowy Canadian background reflecting a pale light into the rooms. This could be due to the low budget the film had, but it feels very deliberate. And much like the Shining, the uncomfortable and eerie feel of the movie comes just as much from the subject matter as it does its spooks and ghouls. At its heart, the movie is about divorce, a gory Kramer vs Kramer of sorts, and the slow realization that the person you loved isn’t REALLY that person anymore at all. While The Shining focused on a husband’s decent into madness, The Brood focuses on the discovery that everything in the husband’s life has gone out of his control. It seems like our protagonist blinked and his whole world turned upside down. It’s pretty obvious that Cronenberg was going through some shit when he wrote this.

A quick bit of internet creeping shows he was in fact getting divorced from his wife the same year the movie was released. “He first married Margaret Hindson in 1972: then his seven-year marriage ended in 1979 amidst personal and professional differences. They had one daughter, Cassandra Cronenberg. Now he is married to Carolyn Zeifman, production assistant on Rabid. They have two children, Caitlin and Brandon.[24] In the 1992 book Cronenberg on Cronenberg, he revealed that The Brood was inspired by events that occurred during the unraveling of his first marriage, which caused both Cronenberg and his daughter Cassandra a great deal of turmoil. The character Nola Carveth, mother of the brood, is based on Cassandra's mother. Cronenberg said that he found the shooting of the climactic scene, in which Nola was strangled by her husband, to be "very satisfying."—Wikipedia, David Cronenburg

It's amazing that a movie can start as a very well-done drama/thriller about divorce, loss, and madness and then slowly twist into the body terror Cronenberg is so well known for. The Brood has everything from midget monsters pummeling pretty schoolteachers, to death in front of children, to a woman licking the afterbirth from her a-sexually produced spawn, to oddly disturbing shots of milk and orange Juice mixing together on the floor, and that’s still only part of what’s so scary. You’d think the evil doctor was the big bad from the beginning. While yes, he’s totally evil; he’s also not the most evil or even most dangerous monster of the film.

The make-up effects are terrific, even if they are hidden for the most part. The film slowly shows more and more of its monsters as it goes on. First, you’d only get the hands of the child-like brood, then you see only glimpses of them running and attacking. It builds and builds until you see everything. You know how they die, how they look, and in the film’s most famous and harrowing sequence, you see how they are birthed and just what the biggest side effect of psychoplasmics is.

Warning: side effects include constipation, nausea, a brood of asexually produced demon children, and dryness of the eyes.

Overall, The Brood is a terrific mix of gore and psychological horror and one of Cronenberg’s best films, right up there with The Fly, Videodrome, and even his more ‘serious’ dramatic efforts like History of Violence and Eastern Promises. All the actors bring in great performances, the story eases you in with relatable and real drama and adds some honest, touching, human moments before letting the monster movie madness go insane. The imagery is gruesome enough to stay with you long after you stop watching. Just the over-the-top and wild-eyed performance from Oliver Reed, as Dr. Hal Raglan, is worth the price of admission, but The Brood keeps giving you more.

- Will Woolery

Review: Videodrome (1983)


Videodrome (1983)
Director: David Cronenberg

“Long live the new flesh.” James Woods (Vampires) plays a sleazy television executive – as if there’s any other kind – looking for the next big thing when he stumbles upon a pirated broadcast, the eponymous Videodrome. Featuring torture and murder, Videodrome instantly begins to fascinate him and his new masochistic girlfriend, played by Deborah Harry of Blondie (Super 8). As Woods begins to investigate the source of the signal, he stumbles onto a man who lives only on video tape, a church that treats the homeless with endless hours of television, and the fact that Videodrome produces a brain tumor that causes violent hallucinations.

Finding that the signal originates in Pittsburgh (is that really such a surprise?) Woods begins to investigate the reality of these broadcasts and disappearance of Harry. Eventually, he becomes a pawn in an ongoing war for control of the future, with much delightfully disgusting Cronenberg body-horror along the way. Highlights include a vagina in Woods’ stomach, a literal hand grenade, and death by cancer-causing flesh bullet (I think it was Freud who said a flesh bullet is never just a flesh bullet). Warning: personal enjoyment of this kind of thing may vary.

It’s not hard to see the way Cronenberg predicted our modern media landscape, from reality television to YouTube. What else is the “new flesh” but our modern lives lived anonymously over the computer? As people give more and more of their lives over to technology, so much so, that even in the poorest towns in third world countries you can find people with cell phones, it’s reasonable to wonder what this all means for the future and to feel a certain fear for our humanity. It’s this part of the movie that feels the most relevant and engaging. Not to mention the always enjoyable Woods and those special effects provided by master Rick Baker (The Howling) mentioned before.

However, there’s always something about stories emphasizing the dangers of technology that comes across as a little silly and retrograde. Were there plays about the dangers of radio when it was first introduced? Did people tap out stories where telegraphs merge with humans, one dot and dash at a time? Anytime new technology is invented, someone is going to write a story showing the dark side of said technology, and it will always wind up looking a little dated and goofy (I’m looking at youThe Net.) It’s kinda hard here not to laugh when several scenes involve evil, pulsating Betamax tapes.

The story also gets a little too bogged down in its philosophies. There doesn’t need to be clear delineations of good and evil but the differences between various factions in this movie is hard to parse. One wants to use the Videodrome signal as a weapon (I think), the other wants to welcome members into a new reality of life-everlasting on video (or something like that). No movie needs to spoon feed morals and lessons, or even clarity, but it’s hard to see a point other than “too much television is bad.” Sex and violence aren’t the future of entertainment, they’re as old as humanity itself.

Still, the power and seduction of Videodrome is undeniable. All you have to do is walk down the street and watch people unable to put down their smartphones to wonder if the future predicted in this movie is already here. Cronenberg has style and talent to spare and it’s easy to get sucked in, kinda like Woods pushing his face into an undulating television screen. If a brain tumor is the result, then long live the new flesh.

- David Kempski