Cronos

Cronos

1993

Directed by Guillermo del Toro

This is the first feature film of Mexican director Guillermo del Toro's so-far uneven career. On the one hand, he directed the superb dark fantasy/historical drama Pan's Labyrinth, and I heard that the similarly-themed The Devil's Backbone was also quite good. On the other, he was responsible for the terrible Hellboy II: The Golden Army (don't believe the hype, people, it was a complete travesty) and its middling predecessor, as well as such mediocre fare as Mimic and Blade II. A special-effects whiz and so-called "visionary" filmmaker, del Toro has scored a ton of fans with his unique brand of fantastical faeries and beasts, and some creepier fare as well. But personally, I feel that the content of his films struggles to keep up with their visual inventiveness. I think that being pegged as a visionary has set up the expectation that he will continue to wow audiences with special effects, but the brilliance of Pan's Labyrinth suggests that he can do so much better than, say, completely burying the beloved Hellboy comic series beneath a goofy storyline whose sole purpose is to serve as a vehicle for a series of goofy goblins, ogres, elementals and faeries of his own devising. I mean, he didn't even make any attempt whatsoever to stay true even to the basic tone and style of Hellboy!

But this isn't a review of Hellboy. On to Cronos. What can I say about this one? I'll start by noting that I was rather disappointed. I was expecting a dark horror fantasy, but Cronos is just plain silly. Sure, it starts off well, with an aging antiques dealer named Jesus Gris coming across an ancient device that grants immortality to its posessor. The only thing is, it turns you into a vampire, more or less. Not at first, to be sure. The story is typically Faustian; the Cronos device begins by making Jesus feel younger and more vigorous. He quickly becomes reliant upon the device. It's an old story and its been told better elsewhere. His young daughter tries to stop him from using the device, but it's too late. The other plotline involves a rich but terminally ill, crusty old bastard, a cartoonish Claudio Brook as De la Guardia. For obvious reasons he wants the Cronos device for himself, and he elects his thuggish, plastic-surgery-obsessed nephew Angel to "acquire" it from Mr. Gris. Ron Perlman is bafflingly cast as Angel. His performance is atypically ridiculous - I really don't know what to make of it. At one point, he even affects the old evil "muwahahahahaha!!!" laugh; I have no idea if it's supposed to be a parody or not. Every scene with him in it is rendered absurd by his cheesy performance. I don't say this lightly because I normally like Ron Perlman!

For what appears to be a horror film, Cronos is damnably slow. It plays out more like an amateurish moral allegory. The story is boring and frequently ludicrous. Really, the only interesting thing going on is del Toro's visual flair, on display even at this early stage in his career. The Cronos device itself looks pretty cool, especially shots of the various mechanical goings-on inside. There's also a pretty amusing scene where Jesus rises from the grave. Makeup effects are decent if not amazing. Basically, you can see the groundwork that would eventually lead to much better and more entertaining movies.

Even if you're a del Toro fan, damn you, I wouldn't really recommend Cronos. It's not awful, but it's terribly blase. All I have to say to you, Mr. del Toro, is you had better not fuck with The Hobbit! I'm watching you!! It does not need any "improvements" from you. If I see a single creature that you made up yourself, I'm going to hunt you down, man! Am I allowed to say that? I'm not really going to hunt you down, Guillermo... just... cool your jets. I know you can't help yourself. You're thinking, "oh come on... Tolkien wouldn't mind if I insert just one no-face monster with eyes where they're not supposed to be..." But no, just no. Don't do it. People are gonne be really angry. They're going to give you the Evil Eye and you're gonna have to burn a weirdo special rock on your stove all the time to ward off the bad vibes. Okay, okay, I'm done.

4.3

NOTE: Cronos bears no relation whatsoever to the detail of Francisco Goya's similarly-titled painting, above; but it's way cooler than anything you're going to see in the movie.

The Brood

The Brood

1979

Directed by David Cronenberg

David Cronenberg is one of Canada's few auteurs. With a solid output of creepy and very unconventional horror, sci-fi, and dramas, Cronenberg should really be more popular than he is. I guess he just sort of falls somewhere in between conventional genre fans and a rather squeamish mainstream audience that can't seem to warm up to his work.

The Brood is a flawed but mostly excellent thinking man's psychological horror film. Reading the description on the back of the box, you might think you know what to expect from it, but that's not really the case. This was one of Cronenberg's earliest films, obviously he was working on a smaller budget than later classics like The Fly. Otherwise, many of his hallmarks are here - a sharp, intelligent script, creepy and sometimes repulsive special effects, visceral scenes of violence. The only thing that mars the movie is somewhat limited acting performances; Cronenberg is usually able to draw the best out of his cast (Jeff Goldblum at his insane best in The Fly, Jeremy Irons' creepy, layered performance as twin gynecologists in Dead Ringers), but there is a lack of depth in the cast of The Brood.

The Brood is probably the closest Cronenberg got to directing a straight horror flick, with a deceptively simple plot. Dr. Hal Raglan (a glowering Oliver Reed) is a pioneer in the field of "psychoplasmics," a parapsychotherapeutic method involving drawing out patients' anger in metaphysical manifestations. He would seem like a quack except that what seems metaphysical actually turns out to be rather more physical. Manifesting itself as cancerous growth and skin affliction in some patients, psychoplasmics definitely redefines expressing one's inner rage. One of Dr. Raglan's patients is the disturbed Nola Carveth, unfortunately over-played by Samantha Eggar. When things start happening to people related to her, her separated husband Frank starts to investigate further, in the interest of protecting their daughter Candice - unexplained bruises start to appear on her, but Frank thinks it has something to do with his crazy-as-a-loon wife.

Cronenberg launches into a series of grisly and bizarro murders, perpetrated by... well, I won't ruin any surprises, I'll just say that they're creepy. Things just get weird from this point on. It's like he took a standard slasher concept and set it slightly askew. As Frank delves into psychoplasmics, he finds more pronounced versions of the manifestations of anger and self-loathing in the patients he meets. The film has a sort of minimalist production which fits the overall mood, but it carries over into Art Hindle's performance as Frank. He seems improbably credulous of the many shocking developments, including the brutal killings of relatives, police investigations, freaky creatures, injury to his daughter. In his situation, I would be flipping out. Still, considering most horror movie acting in the seventies, I guess I can't really complain much. These lapses were somewhat lessened by a few excellent performances from the supporting cast. Gary McKeehan is good as disturbed patient Mike Trellan, and Robert Silverman is just great as the wry and off-kilter Jan Hartog.

More unsettling than outright scary, you'll still probably jump more than once during The Brood. It can be easily appreciated as a straight horror film, but the themes it explores venture into the allegorical as well. This is probably the best thing about Cronenberg's work; uncompromising intelligence along with excellent special effects and engaging stories. Plus the odd scene or two that might make you want to hurl. He has been able to bring legitimacy to the horror genre like no other filmmaker I can think of. Hopefully the success of Eastern Promises and the superb A History of Violence prompts moviegoers to explore his sorely underrated earlier work.

7.5