Misfortunes of Imaginary Beings: 10/31/23

A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Videodrome (David Cronenberg, 1983)

James Woods and Debbie Harry in Videodrome

Cast: James Woods, Debbie Harry, Sonja Smits, Peter Dvorsky, Leslie Carlson, Jack Creley, Lynne Gorman, Julie Khaner, Reiner Schwarz, David Bolt, Rena King. Screenplay: David Cronenberg. Cinematography: Mark Irwin. Art direction: Carol Spear. Film editing: Ronald Sanders. Music: Howard Shore.

The menacing technology in Videodrome -- cathode ray tube TV sets, video cassettes (Betamax!), broadcast television -- looks antique and even quaint 40 years later. We worry today about the internet, smart phones, social media. But the root fear remains the same: extreme self-absorption, alienation, anomie. In that respect, David Cronenberg's fable has dated not at all. Partly that's because as a specialist in "body horror," Cronenberg, with the significant help of makeup artist Rick Baker, is able to translate psychological, even spiritual concerns into physical ones. The grotesque invasions of the body in Videodrome are treated as invasions of the soul. If I have reservations about the movie, it's that it too quickly pins the blame on television instead of exploring the root causes of the hunger for violence and violent sex that the medium exploits. It's like deploring consumerism while ignoring capitalism's encouragement of it. But that's another film entirely, or rather a whole bunch of films.