Vidéodrome

Videodrome ticks many of the Cronenberg boxes that fans of his films will have come to expect and love. Themes including technology's role in shaping humanity, government conspiracy against its own people, and the cultural value of sex and violence are each delivered up in the film's gray-and-beige, metropolitan '80s setting. Casting was excellent and the plot is moved forward by a spritely James Woods and the provocative Debbie Harry (Blondie), set to a sparing but precise score by Howard Shore. But the most intriguing question posed by the film is the extent to which reality is shaped by personal perception alone. This concept, explored through dream sequences, body horror, and philosophical dialogue between characters, is central to the plot about a television broadcaster bent on finding the most "real" adult content for his niche viewers. Cronenberg appears to ask not only whether our insatiable media consumption has gone too far, but whether humanity ever had a choice in the first place.

Videodrome is a prescient moment in cinema history as our desensitized society moves ever deeper into a world of screens and virtual personalities. It's not a film for everyone, but it's a film anyone could get something out of. I highly recommend it for those approaching it with academic interest and for fans of the genre.

I first saw 'Videodrome' around '84 or '85 and it impressed the hell out of me. I thought then that it was ahead of its time, and after watching it again a few days ago (and there have been many, many viewings in between) I STILL think it is. In fact it gets more and more contemporary and relevant as each year goes by. Cronenberg went on to adapt difficult cult novels by William Burroughs and J.G. Ballard, which wouldn't have surprised any of his fans, as ideas from both writers, and the late Philip K. Dick have pervaded his work from 'Shivers' to 'eXistenZ'. (Probably even before that going by descriptions of early efforts like 'Crimes Of The Future' which I unfortunately haven't had the opportunity to see.) But Cronenberg, unlike say the Wachowski brothers, isn't just repackaging science fiction ideas for a new generation of movie goers, he is a genuine original.

'Videodrome' still knocks me out every time I watch it. This innovative mix of science fiction, sex, violence, surrealism and horror has lost none of its punch over the years. I have enjoyed most of Cronenberg's movies, and think he is one of the most underrated directors currently working, but 'Videodrome' still seems his purest and least compromised work, and the movie that most successfully and memorably represents his vision. Simply one of the greatest and most important movies ever made.

Max Renn's found a brand new channel to explore, where it comes from, whose transmission, he's not too sure, broadcasts torture, hurt and pain, you might be curious but refrain, it's got him hooked and things are getting quite obscure. His hallucinations feel very real, a gaping mouth inside his belly's a big deal, consumes a gun and video, controls his actions, where he goes, there must be awful indigestion that he feels.

It wouldn't be so bad in the digital age fortunately, I'm sure a small USB slot opening up in your midriff wouldn't be anything like as bad as one the size of a VHS cassette - more like keyhole video.

Videodrome is truly a surreal experience. I do not want to include too much information as that would spoil the film for "virgin" viewers. If you are familiar with Cronenberg's work, you may have an inkling of what you're in for. Videodrome can drive one to the brink of madness, and then tell you you've been there for an hour and a half. From scene to scene you can't tell what's real and what is in James Wood's imagination. It's utter insanity, but it's great at the same time. This film is a good companion piece with Cronenberg's Existenze. When you can wrap the audience up in your movie, you have accomplished something few have. And David Cronenberg seems to do that time and again. Cronenberg is not for the faint of heart, definitely.

It takes the slightest peeks at his career to figure out David Cronenberg ("The Fly," "Dead Ringers," "Naked Lunch," "The Dead Zone," the upcoming "A History of Violence") is a director who is not to be toyed with. I forgot to add in his 1983 horror movie "Videodrome," and there is a reason for that, which I'll talk about later. His works provoke intelligent thought, and terrify those who can't comprehend it. His films stimulate, offend, and move those who care to watch them with an open mind.

Allow me to (try) explain. I won't bother to go into detail about the plot. A sleazy, lowlife TV producer named Max Renn (James Woods) rapidly becomes obsessed with an unusual television signal, which in turn begins to warp his perceptions of reality. Get it? Nah, of course you don't. You're not going to let a one-sentence plot description and, if you own the Criterion Collection DVD, the three essays included deter you from watching it, are you?

You're also not going to let scenes of grisly torture, unspeakable violence, murder, "flesh guns," human VCRs, exploding cancer-deaths (poor Leslie Carlson as Barry Convex), pulsating video cassettes, Deborah Harry in S&M and morphing televisions turn you away, are you? What's more, you're not going to let Woods's effectively "wooden" performance here (his sticking his face into a "living" television) turn you away either?

I won't even try to pretend I understood what was going through Cronenberg's mind when he wrote and directed this picture. I also won't pretend I understood the essays included with the DVD (and I don't think the writers did either). It's warped, it's perverted, it's depraved, and it's insanely intriguing and fascinating. The masses are frightened by "Videodrome" and with good reason. "Videodrome" is Cronenberg's dastardly take on mass-media consumption during a time when television was afraid... afraid to be real. Media violence had not yet become a major issue in America and hypocritical politicians weren't condemning it. But keep in mind this film was made in '83, years before the mind-blowing reality-morphing of "The Matrix" (1999).

There's a little more that I think I can get away with in describing the plot, and Renn eventually traces the signal to Pittsburgh, and is introduced to the station's enigmatic programmer Brian O'Blivion (Jack Creley) and his daughter Bianca (Sonja Smits). He learns of the bizarre nature surrounding Videodrome, and the fate of those of who watch it. As he becomes more and more obsessed, he finds it nearly impossible to turn it off, or turn away. Then those mutations and hallucinations Cronenberg is famous for start happening and when that does, things become nasty and the queasy may want to keep a finger on the fast-forward button. It's no secret Cronenberg loves torturing his protagonists and here, the "new flesh" wants to live long and Woods has the nice warm body perfect for it - he becomes a literal media assassin with a vaginal slit in his stomach that doubles as a programmable VCR and also has a handgun fused to his wrist - he's a virtual slave to Videodrome.

Lastly, the eerie, driving score by Howard Shore swells up during the film's most intense and surreal moments, the most lovely being Woods's lovemaking with his television. I always watch Cronenberg films at least partially for Shore's music. Now I know why Cronenberg selects him for his soundtracks.

"Videodrome," I think, has a lot more relevance today than it did 22 years ago. It's more visceral than gross, is quite brilliant, and doesn't spare us graphic violence and gore. It's alive, it's "Videodrome."

8/10