Review: Videodrome

Videodrome (1983)
Cert: 18 / 88 mins / Dir. David Cronenberg / Trailer



Put your hand up if you'd forgotten how weird David Cronenberg's horror-output was? Ah. Just me, then. DC has a great knack for making his audience gawp, flinch and squirm, but never really feel; as disgusting as his gore is, it's presented with an almost nihilistic lack of emotion, and none moreso than in Videodrome.

The first half hour is the most interesting, as Cronenberg's overtly satirical scaremongering of the VCR generation's attitude to sex and violence turned out to be far more prescient of the internet (which existed for military and government networks in 1983, but obviously wasn't the beast it is now). Then, after starting a plot he doesn't mean to see to any sensible conclusion and ramping up the effects-work, the last half hour of the film collapses under the weight of its own subtext and symbolism, and everything basically becomes a red, wet, pulsating cheese-nightmare. It's not that the movie doesn't mean anything, but Videodrome is a classic example of a film where 'what happens' and 'what it's about' are two entirely different things; to the point where the shonky-looking effects don't interfere with your enjoyment (or otherwise) of the film at all, as the ideas behind them are timelessly grotesque.

James Woods manages to come out of the whole thing quite well, given the absurdity of his role, but the rest of the cast struggle a little under Cronenberg's purposely sterile writing/direction. And in that regard, Debbie Harrie is either one of the greatest actresses of all time or the absolute worst. Her mannequin-like performance dovetails into her character perfectly. I think?

Come on, how many films do you know that could feature the character names "Brian O'Blivion" and "Barry Convex" and still keep a straight face..?

Despite somehow missing out on this, I caught a few of Cronenberg's flicks back in the day, but I think I was too young to full appreciate them.
Although I suspect this may actually still be the case...



Er… yes?



I'd recommend it, but I wouldn't tell you you're necessarily going to enjoy it ;)



There are a metric shit-ton of screams in this movie, none of which are authored by Private Wilhelm.



James Woods performed voice-over work for the animated Clerks series, as did Phil 'Kit Fisto in The Clone Wars / Bail Organa in Rebels' LaMarr.







DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

Review: Maps To The Stars

Maps To The Stars (2014)
Cert: 18 / 109 mins / Dir. David Cronenberg / Trailer



Sex, bullying, guilt, murder, incest and repetition; Hollywood™! Nothing is off the cards in David Cronenberg's tale of tinseltown corrosion that makes Birdman look like a comedic romp by comparison. Glibness aside, Maps To The Stars is pretty much the perfect companion-piece to the Iñárritu flick about mental collapse in a semi-fictionalised film industry, but walks in much darker shoes.

Mia Wasikowska, Olivia Williams, John Cusack, Robert Pattinson and the young Evan Bird are all outstanding under Cronenberg's taut direction, but it's Julianne Moore who really shines here (ironically, given the nature of her role as a psychologically wrecked actress approaching the end of her Hollywood 'shelf-life'). Julianne gives the grief, desperation and vulnerability that do full justice to Bruce Wagner's screenplay. I only wish the story-strand with Moore and Sarah Gadon, playing the young-incarnation of her mother, had been given more screen time. That said, there's a hell of a lot to get through in this tangled web, and it's not easy-going at the best of times.

In other hands, the film could well have turned into a self-fuelling darkly comic parody, but there's little to smile at here, even if there's much to admire. Maps To The Stars won't be for everybody, but that's always been Cronenberg's style. Inaccessible yet intriguing, you'll need a fascination with the twisted machine that is Hollywood to see it through to the end, but it's one hell of a ride.

Not a film you'll want to watch with your parents in the room.

I haven't. It was a bit too genre to come to my local, and only on for one week in London so I didn't get the chance.



I am. A little drained, but glad.



I'd recommend it to people who like tales of inwardly-spiralling self-destruction, yes.



There isn't. It's not really that kind of film, to be fair.



The film briefly features Princess Leia herself, Carrie Fisher.







DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.