2012, dir. Brandon Cronenberg, Caleb Landry Jones:
IMDb /
allmovie
In a world where the cult of celebrity involves taking on their
diseases… pretty much everything that can go wrong with such a setup
does.
Brandon Cronenberg is of course the son of David, and this is his
first full-length film; his father's influence is very clear not only
in the overall subject matter, but in such things as the medical
closeups, the odd shot angles, the juxtaposition of diseased and sexy
images, the hallucinations, the body horror in general, the oppressive
soundtrack, and the black and white (and blue-tinted) set dressing. If
you'd told me this film was made by David Cronenberg, I'd have had no
trouble believing you.
Which is not a terrible thing: I quite enjoy many of the films of
David Cronenberg. But it's a little disappointing that Brandon hasn't
found a more distinctive voice; and it feels like an early
Cronenberg, before he'd really got the hang of it.
I at least never really cared about Syd March, the protagonist. In
Videodrome we may not have liked Max Renn but we did at least take
some interest in what happened to him. Syd's dying, and is being
exploited by everyone he meets? Meh, so what? I think it's a matter of
contrasts: we never see Syd being nice to anyone, or having a pleasant
time, so we have no reason to feel sad when bad things happen to him
because that's just the baseline of his life.
There are plenty of evocative scenes as Syd gradually spirals down
towards his inevitable Bad End (the only real question is what form
that bad end will take), but somehow I was never quite grabbed. This
isn't the sort of film you watch to find out what happens; it's a film
you watch to produce in yourself the conceptual and emotional state
that the filmmaker desired. Which happened a bit, to me, but not as
much as I'd have liked.
Yes, it's a very effective send-up of the cult of celebrity and the
conclusions to which it can lead, but it's much more about saying
"hey, I've got some neat ideas" than working out ant of the
implications of those ideas. Aggressive cutting would have helped, or
maybe just a better writer to help with working things out, but even
this imperfect piece shows definite promise. Eh, Brandon's young;
he'll learn. Long live the new flesh.
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