Weird and Wonderful: “Videodrome”

David Cronenberg is a filmmaker who knows exactly what he’s doing. He draws in the audience with his signature brand of body horror, then hits them with increasingly relevant social commentary. The cult classic Videodrome is a prime example of his approach. 

Originally a box-office bomb, it’s gained a following due to its incredible special effects, dark themes, and oddball style. Categorized as science fiction horror, the film demands much more from the audience than one might expect from its genre. The story takes bizarre, surreal twists and turns, so it’s another one of those films that relies on the audience recognizing clues. 

The main character, television executive Max Renn (James Woods), is constantly on the search for the most shocking show he can find to boost viewership. He isn’t opposed to violence, real or imagined. He’s also perfectly comfortable with showing adult content. When he stumbles upon a transmission of “Videodrome”, a show that consists exclusively of hyper-realistic torture, he makes it his mission to seek out the source of the show. The addition of a sadomasochistic damsel in distress (Debbie Harry), a chillingly familiar corporate villain (Leslie Carlson), and the daughter of a technological prophet of doom (Sonja Smits) add complexity to the discomfort.

As soon as Max is subjected to “Videodrome”, he unknowingly becomes complicit in a plot to permanently change the psyche of the public. Slave to the will of “Videodrome”, he becomes programmable in both a metaphorical and a very literal sense. He only realizes the danger he and Nicki Brand (Debbie Harry) are in when it’s too late. Slowly succumbing to constant hallucinations and the influence of various puppet masters, both Max and the audience begin to lose sight of what is real and what is imagined.

Videodrome asks how far we’re willing to go for the sake of entertainment. It disgusted me not only due to the gore, but also because it’s more relevant now than ever. The two key recurring themes of the film are desensitization and media control. Since Videodrome’s release in 1983, these concepts have only become more central to daily life. In the digital age, anyone has access to the darkest parts of life; simply open an incognito browser and the world is your grim, terrifying oyster. 

It takes advantage of everything it can with an R rating. It’s grotesque, dreamlike — actually, more like nightmarish– and needs a second watch to fully appreciate. The nearly $6 million budget was one of the largest he’s ever had for a film, and it shows in all the effects he was able to pull off. Universal saw the success of his 1981 film Scanners and decided to take a chance, but unfortunately this didn’t end up benefiting them. 

Videodrome has slowly but surely gained a fanbase, and I couldn’t be more pleased. Whether you’re intrigued by its message or just in it for the carnage, please give Cronenberg’s dystopian prophecy a chance.

“Death to Videodrome! Long live the new flesh!”

Weird and Wonderful: “House”

When I first heard about Nobuhiko Obayashi’s 1977 film House, I read that it was intended to be Japan’s Jaws. This comedy-horror gem may not have accomplished that, but it cemented itself as a cult classic nonetheless. It’s been described as a fever dream, an experience, and a “candy-colored style bomb” (seanax.com). At the same time, it’s been called indescribable. So what is the experience of House?

 

In essence, House is a summer vacation gone wrong. The main character, Gorgeous, and her friends Melody, Fantasy, Kung Fu, Prof, Mac, and Sweet (all named after their most prominent character trait) go on a trip to get away from Gorgeous’ creepy new stepmom. As soon as they arrive at Gorgeous’ aunt’s house, things instantly feel off. I won’t give away the plot, but there’s definitely not a happy ending.

 

House is one of those films where the style surpasses the substance, but that’s the entire point. It isn’t something to passively watch for entertainment. The plot heavily relies on the viewer picking up on hints throughout the film (make sure to take notice of the cat). It can get pretty confusing at times, especially near the end. However, the plot isn’t the reason I’m in love with this film. There is no other film that looks like House. It’s pretty hard to describe what happens, and the only way I can describe it visually is “Scooby Doo-esque Suspiria”.

The strangest and most amazing aspect of House is the editing and visual effects. Certain moments look like a tragic-yet-magical collage. Body parts spin across the screen, heads change color and float, and people turn into fruit in the blink of an eye. Not only are these effects impressive but the film’s use of color is absolutely dazzling. 

 

The way Obayashi incorporates drawings, transparent layers, and missing images is worth the watch. After watching, I had to research how the filmmakers pulled off many of the special effects. For 1977, the editing is way ahead of its time.

Though the plot goes a bit off the rails, the themes of the film come through well. House is about war, friendship, family, and the magic of childhood. Obayashi reportedly spoke with his daughter, Chigumi, while writing the script, and many of her ideas were included in the film. 

 

Chigumi contributed her own childhood fantasies and fears. The balance between fantasy and fear is a very fine line in House, which makes for a mind-melting mix of emotions as a viewer. Should you laugh? Should you scream? Which character should you feel bad for? This film will leave the viewer with lots of questions, but that’s the best part. As soon as it was over I already wanted to watch it again, hoping that I would get some answers (spoiler alert: I don’t think I’ll ever get them).

 

Though House may still be relatively unknown to the general public, it is the ultimate cult classic. I highly recommend it to anyone who has seen it all and is look for a film unlike any other. If you get the chance, get ready to experience childhood nightmares at their strangest through Obayashi’s masterpiece.