Max Renn wants a real looking sexual
torture show called Videodrome for his sleazy television station, but when he
gets hold of the elusive tape, it puts him in an ever mutating dizzy fit of
headaches and hallucinations. The more he finds out about it, the more
dangerous it sounds, the more he's enticed, so he confronts the people behind
it, as Cronenberg adds plumage to the idea of masses of idiots getting subtle
programming from the TV in delightfully bleak fashion.
-Bianca Oblivion, Cathode Ray Mission
The first act is a sexual conception of the
Videodrome virus, the second a mandatory exposition seeping it into conscious
apprehension. Conscious apprehension, where it sits, waiting, as you sit
inert, ready to lull you into hallucination? Perhaps, and in this way
contributing, if you like, to Baudrilaude's simulacrum in an appropriately meta
way: our controllers program us with media, and this film is not far from the same. But Videodrome can at least attest to some form
of artistic integrity.
"The battle for the mind of North America will be fought in the video arena, the
Videodrome."
-Brian Oblivion
Of course, Cronenberg takes it a step
further to develop his metaphor of the "new flesh," the sexually
initiated fusion of our technology, biology, and ideals; our ultimate destiny
(desire?) being disembodied Word.
"The television screen is the retina of the mind's eye. [...] television is reality, and reality is less than television."
-Brian Oblivion
"[...] public life on television [is]
more real than private life in the flesh."
-Bianca Oblivion
Max is now confronted by Videodrome co-op
Barry Convex, who manages to invoke the Controllers from Aldous Huxley's 1932 novel Brave
New World (warm, charismatic authority helping you to your quiet, sedated
demise). The Videodrome tumour well into malignancy, it takes over as Max's new
reality.
"Open up to me, Max."
-Barry Convex
In a memorable scene that converges the
prescient running theme of virtual reality with video games itself, the crux of
the "Videodrome Problem" is defined: change the program and stop the
evil plans of the would-be oligarchs. In its place, the new flesh, "man's next
phase as a technological animal," seems to propose little better.
"Don't be afraid to let your body
die."
-Nicky Brand
Cronenberg's highpoint may well be The Fly,
harrowing in its simplicity, as if a humble Kafkaesque narrative narrowed down
the essence of his ideas with a brutal honesty befitting them. With Videodrome though, for a thing of its kind, there are few comparisons, as it's really
one of a kind. Its catharsis is a void because it does not exist, instead
requiring repeated viewings for any real meaning to be extracted, which will
therefore ring intellectually. If anything, it’s a landmark film that predicts the mass
hypnosis of the populace as an ever-increasing rate of proclivity toward epileptic visions
of sex and violence.
"Long live the new flesh."
-Max Renn, avatar of the new flesh
No comments:
Post a Comment