Celluloid Flesh: The Films of David Cronenberg

Foreword

There’s an anecdote that when asked about being the king of venereal horror, David Cronenberg replied it is a small kingdom but at least he’s the king. This term, venereal horror has followed Cronenberg’s career since the beginning. But like so many of the characters in his films, it has mutated into something different from the original manifestation.

Venereal horror is synonymous with body horror, a subgenre all but invented by Cronenberg right in his first feature length film, Shivers. Gore was by then already widely used in horror, but it says something about Cronenberg that where other filmmakers have been but task makers, he managed to stamp his own personal style, which came to be known as Cronenbergian. It’s said that a filmmaker has truly made his mark when his name is turned into an adjective.

Cronenberg’s name is still associated with his earlier body horror films, even though his last overt horror film was The Fly in 1987. There is an accepted dividing line of his career with that, a before and an after. But is it that simple? Is there a divide or instead a continuum?

In this book, author Scott Colbert presents the evolution of the career of David Cronenberg in chronological order. From such arrangement an image emerges of recurrent personal and artistic themes and choices, from his earlier horror to his latest more cerebral artistic films.

It’s tempting to use the expression New Flesh, taken from his film Videodrome, as metaphor for Cronenberg’s career themes and obsessions. But isn’t it so how apt? New Flesh refers to the mutating organism, but in a more profound meaning also to the mutating mentality of a mutating morality in a mutating society in times of change. Changes and mutations of all kinds can be seen as a disease which cause horror and fear, but also incites studying and fascination.

Cronenberg turns his cinematic lens to these horrors of the uncanny and studying them, his voice reaching from behind the cinema, daring us to share his fascination. Isn’t it all so interesting, this mutating bodies, this mutating minds, this mutating morals? As if conversing with colleagues, Cronenberg shows us the symptoms and effects, leaving us in the audience to reach a prognosis.

But as Cronenberg’s lens studies his obsessions, so we can turn our own lens to study him, his mutating career and he himself as a mutating artist. It’s such a peculiar irony and yet so apt.

Prepare yourself, reader, for the prognosis of David Cronenberg’s career.  But if you are squeamish of stomach or mind, be afraid, be very afraid.

Carlos Alberto Saraiva (AsimovLives)

Dreams of Celluloid Flesh

The first time I heard of David Cronenberg was in the pages of Fangoria magazine. They had a cover story on the making of Scanners and I remember being enthralled, not just by the images, but also how smart Cronenberg came across. That’s not to say that other horror directors aren’t smart, but there was an intellectual bent to him that seemed to be absent from others. There wasn’t a pomposity to it either, it was...professorial I guess. In the months leading up to its release I followed everything about it I could, which back then was Fangoria, and some Xeroxed, stapled together horror ‘zines. Cemetery Dance, Gorezone, and Film Threat didn’t exist, and the Internet was still banging around Al Gore’s brain, so there were very few places to get information.

When Scanners was finally released, I saw it and was absolutely blown away. What I witnessed was pure genius, and storytelling at a level, I’d not experienced in genre work. Of course the exploding head was all anyone could talk about, and with good reason. Not only did it seemingly come from nowhere (this was 1981 remember, and audiences weren’t as sophisticated as they are today), but you spent the entire movie on the edge of your seat wondering what the hell was going to come next. Jesus, if he’s going to explode a head in the first 15 minutes, what’s he going to do for an encore? And his genius, his master stoke of directing was, he didn’t try. He managed to keep the tension up for 90 minutes without repeating or trying to top his opening.

I admit, I tried to copy this formula in my novella. It opens with an over the top murder/rape scene, and there’s nothing after that’s quite as jarring or disturbing. Unfortunately a novella is a totally different medium, and it didn’t work the same way. Anyway, the point is, Cronenberg from the beginning was a pro at manipulating the audience. Unsurprising, for a director who single handedly brought body horror into vogue, shaping people’s reactions was a piece of cake for him. From his first feature Shivers (later retitled It Came From Within), which had parasites invading your body to arguably his last body horror trip in Existenz, where you plug in, literally, Cronenberg has invaded the psyche of moviegoers for decades, and has left us the better for it.

I suppose you could make an argument that even his latter works deal with some type of body horror, but it really would be a stretch, and I’m not the one to do it. I believe once he finished Existenz, he’d said everything he could possibly say about our fears of mutilation, losing control, or being disfigured, as everything after is decidedly more internal. Spider his film after Existenz is certainly his quietest, but to my mind, almost the most disturbing of his work. I may be biased however, as the novel Spider is based on, happens to be one of my all-time favorites. With A History of Violence and Eastern Promises, Cronenberg delves into almost noir territory, and utilizes some of the same actors for both movies. These two movies in particular show how adept he is not just with an audience but with his actors as well. Sometimes we’re so overwhelmed by what’s onscreen-Naked Lunch and The Fly for example-that we forget just how excellent the acting tends to be. I remember when I saw Dead Ringers and being blown away by Jeremy Irons performance, and thinking just how good a director Cronenberg really was.

As I did with John Waters, I’ll be going through one of Cronenberg’s movies each week, starting with Shivers and ending with Cosmopolis. I was originally going to do just ten of his movies, but couldn’t pick. Every time I came up with a list, I saw a movie left off that I wanted to talk about, and then decided to do them all. So for the next few months, I’ll post my weekly column every Friday evening, and hope to shed some light on the man, his work, and my thoughts about both.

Shivers

When attempting to tackle a director’s work, there’s always the question of where to start. With John Waters it was pretty easy, Pink Flamingos was his first big release so it made sense to start there, but with David Cronenberg, there were things prior to Shivers which could have been discussed, but frankly, they were minor compared to his feature releases, and so we start with Shivers. I learned a lot from my Waters series, and I’m going to structure my articles on Cronenberg into four categories: plot Summary; the good; the bad and final thoughts. This way if someone doesn’t want major spoilers they can skip the plot summary (to be sure there will be some in the other sections, but not as many).For those who have seen the movie I’ll be referencing some key scenes, with my thoughts about them, in the first section as well, so it won’t all be a rehash.

Plot Summary

Set in an exclusive high rise, Shivers starts with a slide show through the credits lauding all the modern conveniences of the building: on site clinic, dental, convenience store, and everything else you can possibly imagine. Unfortunately we only see the lobby, doctor’s office and several apartments during the movie, but that’s a thought placed elsewhere. With the slide show concluded, we see a couple driving up to the front entrance, as they talk to the manager, we see a disturbing scene of a middle aged man, attacking, killing, and slicing a young girl open. After pouring acid into the cavity, he then slices his throat with his scalpel. This is intercut with the young couple and the hard sales apartment executive. This is a really well done beginning, and may be one of my favorite openings, which sets the tone for the rest of the film.

We learn rather quickly that the perpetrator of the murder/suicide was a physician Doctor Hobbes, and that the victim was a student of his. The resident doctor is interviewed by a detective then called away by Dr. Hobbes’ partner, Dr. Linsky, who has a propensity for pickles. He explains that Hobbes was working on a way to have parasites take over the functions of bad organs, like a kidney. In spite of Dr. St. Luc’s skepticism, he’s told to keep an open mind, and they agree to meet up later that day. Intercut with this is the odd tale of Nicholas Tudor, who has air bladders encased in his abdomen. Well, more like parasites, but they crawl around inside him, causing him to be emo and spit up blood on occasion.

Dr. Linsky calls his friend, and informs his that Hobbes was working on something entirely different than the parasite as organ idea. Convinced humans were too logical, and reserved, he created a parasite that was part aphrodisiac and part venereal disease. Dr. Horny hoped to spread it worldwide and create a bunch of boner zombies. Unfortunately for him, it also made people insane with a propensity for rape and murder. While waiting for Linsky to arrive, St. Luc and his nurse/love interest spend a good deal of time running around the building they alternate being chased, trying to escape, and chasing others.

After a few murders Linsky finally shows up, and mistakes Nicholas’ apartment for St. Luc’s. This is pretty much a mistake, as Tudor is infested with parasites, and they attack the doctor in what’s easily the most brutal and bloody scene of the movie. Not only do these parasites invade whatever orifice is open, they also burn you as they crawl along your body. Why they don’t burn your internal organs when they’re inside is one of those questions that never get answered.

This all leads to a lot more running around the same set from different angles, until the denouement which although predictable, is still a pretty creepy way to tie the