David Cronenberg is one of those filmmakers whose body of work...pretty much from the start...has been eclectic, challenging, wild, and highly cinematic. His films that fall specifically within the horror genre always have an undercurrent or subtext of one form or another, and unlike many films where that subtext is projected onto the film by rabid fans seeking to qualify their adoration for it, Cronenberg's films lay both the horrific elements such as gore on the table alongside the true meaning of the film. The Fly, while remaining one of Cronenberg's more mainstream efforts, is nonetheless one of his more challenging films as well. It's a truly horrific film, of course, if only from the perspective of the literal horrors it presents, but it's also a real thinker...one of those films that gets under your skin because of the ideas it presents as much as because of the (plentiful) gore. It's in equal terms a love story, a solid piece of science fiction, a drama of almost Shakesperean proportions, a revolting splatter movie, and above all a thesis on the decay of the human condition.
First, the synopsis...
Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum) is a scientist with an idea...an idea that will "change the world as we know it". At a trade show, he convinces pert and resourceful reporter Veronica (Geena Davis, as pretty here as she's ever been) to come back to his lab to...ahem...see what's on the slab, so to speak. At first, Veronica just isn't convinced that Seth really has anything to show her other than his throbbing mansnake, but she soon discovers that he wasn't kidding about the whole "changing the world" thing. It seems Brundle is working on a teleportation system...a system that literally disintegrates matter on one side and reintegrates it at some remote location (in this case, between two terminals he dubs "telepods", that look suspiciously like greatly enlarged engine housings from vintage motorcycles). Veronica is impressed, and Brundle makes her his official reporter...the reporter who will break this news to the world in due time, but only after Brundle has successfully transported himself fifteen feet through space from one 'pod to another. Soon, Seth and Veronica fall in love, as his experiments continue. What Seth doesn't know is that Veronica's boss Stathis Borans (John Getz) is also her former lover, and their working relationship is constantly strained by Borans' unrequited feelings for Veronica. Soon, in a fit of jealousy and pique (and more than a bit of alcohol-fueled idiocy), Seth takes the plunge and teleports himself. The problem, of course, is that a common housefly found its way into the "sending" telepod with Seth, and when the two disparate physical entities were teleported together, the computer system got confused and spliced them together at the genetic level. Soon, Brundle begins to decay...literally and figuratively. His growing jealousy and suspicion are mirrored by the fact that the gene-splicing mishap starts to show itself as some bizarre and highly-efficient form of cancer. As Brundle's body and mind begin to rot, Veronica tries to stand by her man as long as possible, but soon it becomes clear that there's just no helping a guy who is slowly turning into a fly/human hybrid...and who is leaning more toward "flyness" than toward "humanity". Adding to Veronica's dilemma is her discovery that she's preggers with Seth's baby. Then, things get really nasty...
So, is it all just a twisted, "Cronenbergian" metaphor for a crumbling family? Is it just high melodrama spiced up with some truly icky special effects? Is it a cautionary tale about tossing too much sand around in god's sandbox? It's all three, actually, and more. Cronenberg's gift...just as it's always been...is the uncanny knack for putting believable characters (both sympathetic and almost completely loathsome...as in the case of Getz's "Borans") into horrific and fantastical situations, and generating the maximum amount of tension and believability from those situations. Furthermore, he is able to do so in such a way that he can tap into nearly every type of viewer. As mentioned earlier, The Fly was certainly, up to that point in his career, his most commercial and widely-accepted work, a potentially dubious honor since eclipsed by his reasonably traditional A History of Violence. Despite its commercialism and supposed "concentration on a commercial market", The Fly remains an emotionally challenging film, and the romance between Seth and Veronica is the most "normal" relationship he's ever presented. Sure, it's a relationship steeped in (and indeed based on) codependence of the most desperate type, but it's a very real relationship nonetheless. Of course, some of the credit for that believability falls squarely in the court of Goldblum and Davis, who were real-life lovers at the time. Thus, their preexisting emotional and sexual dynamic is absolutely palpable, and when the really gross and horrific stuff starts happening, we really feel for these two. They love each other, despite the relative brevity of their relationship, and as an audience, we want things to work out for the best for these two ca-wayzie kids. This is a horror movie, of course, so it's just not meant to be.
One of the reasons The Fly was so popular (and remains so) is the exemplary effects work by Chris Walas and crew. This stuff exemplifies how the industry has changed in the last nineteen years since this film's release. These days, you just couldn't get away with graphic shotgun blasts to the head, explicit maggot-abortions, and inside-out baboons in a mainstream studio offering...even an "R"-rated offering. Some of the effects are damned-near astounding in their power to shock, but it's the "smaller" effects that have truly lasting impact. Case in point; during the early phases of Brundle's literal "disintegration" and decay, we are "treated" to a couple of truly harrowing and icky sequences wherein Brundle examines, in his bathroom mirror, the cancer-like ravages of his affliction/transformation. One effect has a milky-white pus leaking from his subtly swollen fingertips, and when he gently squeezes one fingertip, it suddenly erupts with an alarming and stomach-churning squirt of fluid onto the mirror's surface. Then, Brundle proceeds to literally rip off his fingernail...which is just downright uncomfortable to watch. What really sells these moments, though, is Goldblum's nuanced, gentle performance. He's horrified by what's happening to his diseased body, to be sure, but he's also fascinated by it...a reflection of his analytic nature. It makes what's happening to him all the more unbearable to watch. If you've ever known a loved one who slowly died of cancer (or some other similar disease), you know that it's the cold detachment from what's happening to your body is often the only thing that gets you through it all. Anyway...the point is that the effects, astounding and prolific as they may be, serve a real purpose here. Cronenberg has always used gore and special effects to propel his stories forward, rather than let his characters and plots get kicked by the wayside. Here, he employs Davis' character as an "audience surrogate". She's not just a participant in the gory-goings-on, she reacts to what she sees the way we would...the way any normal person would...and that is with fear, revulsion, and the uneasy sympathy that Brundle's plight neccesitates. She experiences it up close so we don't have to...we can be as emotionally engaged (or disengaged) as we want, were it not for the fact that, well, Brundle is such a nice fella', it's impossible not to feel terrible for the guy. What we're left with is a film that is engaging on nearly every possible level; the visceral shocks, the emotional impact, and the moral, ethical, interpersonal, and familial impact of the story. Here is a family torn apart by disease and jealousy, as much as by the sheer bad luck surrounding a certain pesky little fly.
This two-disc DVD release from Fox is simply wonderful. It features a nearly-pristine widescreen print, with multiple stereo and surround-sound options (though this flick isn't exactly a subwoofer-stretcher, it still sounds as good...if not better...than it did in theaters in '87). The extras, as the set would imply, are plentiful and valuable. Foremost among them is David Cronenberg's commentary track. Cronenberg always gives good commentary, but here he outdoes himself, filling up the entire run time of the film (with little to no downtime) with technical, personal, and philosphical anecdotes about the production of The Fly. It's a great track, and it's an absolute "must listen" for Cronenberg fans. There's also a wonderful feature-length documentary which follows the production of the film from the very early stages...even before Cronenberg was attached to direct...all the way through the various versions of the screenplay, the effects work, the leg-humping baboon, and much more. It's definitely one of the most complete "making-of" docs I've ever seen, and it's a joy to behold. We also get the requisite galleries and trailers. All told, a truly special edition of an absolutely essential piece of horror cinema. Revisit The Fly, and be reminded that Cronenberg is one of our greatest living crafters of obtuse, challenging cinema...regardless of genre.
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The Atrocities Cinema Scoreboard
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c o n t a c t / i n f o
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