Cronenberg drops us into the seamy world of television broadcasting which Channel 83 executive Max Renn (James Woods) navigates as he receives a morning brief via video. We instantly see he lives an untidy life, but he’s still committed to looking for the next shocking thing to host on his channel. He’s tired of the soft but still scandalous fare that is scouted for programming. He doesn’t know how much his life, or at least his mind, will change when he’s introduced to Videodrome. This possibly pirate broadcast features material beyond the tasteless, verging to the illegal. However, Max soon learns that once viewed, you become part of Videodrome and Videodrome becomes part of you, perhaps to fatal consequence.

While critics praised the film, the material was likely too weird and extreme for general audiences. Budgeted just under six million dollars, the film failed to recoup its expenses. Still, the resonant themes combined with the compelling acting of the leads and the imaginative visual effects has turned Videodrome into a true cult classic. Often, people assign that identifier to any movie that gets an updated media release. How can a film that focuses on the dead media of VHS say anything to a world of multiple streaming options?

Max Renn is an unsavory character, but Cronenberg doesn’t present him as fully unlikeable. Supposedly he has no limits, but even he’s taken aback by the actions of the mysterious Nicki Brand (Debbie Harry), even as he’s further drawn into seductive visuals of Videodrome. Nicki, introduced to Max on a hosted debate/discussion, reveals herself to be a woman of contradictory layers. Seemingly, she’s the voice of reflection concerning whether society has become overstimulated by the media landscape, but she reveals herself to be a woman of masochistic impulses.

As the attraction of Videodrome draws her in, Max becomes the voice of hesitation. However, it’s too late, as Max learns that Videodrome is more than entertainment, Nicki is both more and less than she seems, and there are greater ideological forces wanting use Videodrome to transform society. Max Renn, as an audience surrogate, is confident in knowing who he is at the start but uncertain of what’s physically tangible and mentally possible by the conclusion.

What most would remember about Videodrome are the odd and often disturbing visual effects. In one bizarre scene, a cold inanimate television set becomes a stirring fleshy object, inviting intimacy with Max. Is it alive, or is it part of Max’s increasingly off sense of reality? Even Max himself becomes an object of mutation as orifices appear without prompting and technology merges with his body. Media prophet Dr. O’Blivion speaks of “The New Flesh.” Max, whether he wants to or not, becomes the latest subject of media/technology/body evolution. At the end you may not understand fully what you’ve seen. The images, being both realistic in composition and fantastic in their presentation, will leave an impression.

Composer Howard Shore’s stylistic choice of music is interesting. He’s known for writing bombastic scores whether working with Cronenberg or with other directors. This time he decided for a more minimalistic approach. Though still utilizing traditional instrumentation, he has overlayed it with synthesizer tones. Rather than dramatic highs and lows, there’s a pulsating droning that occasionally falls away for a plangent flourish of strings. The music serves the film, and there’s nothing incorrect about the placement in the scenes. However, the synthesized orchestra may disconcert the listener. Possibly that was Cronenberg’s and Shore’s intention, but it also likely means for most people that this score won’t be on listening cycle outside the film, unlike other science fiction films and horror films of the 1980s.

Finally, the story development leads to two conclusions that may seem contradictory. First, one can appreciate the various themes that Cronenberg throws to the audience. What are the effects of media on humanity, especially involving extreme content; can one lose touch on reality as one delves further into video world; will increasing immersion in technology mutate us into something beyond what we know is the normal expedience?

However, the second conclusion is tangent to the first. There may have been a surfeit of themes to develop within the film’s running time to the viewer’s satisfaction. By the end, all gives way to Max becoming “The New Flesh” through a series of action sequences. We’re not even sure if he has agency in doing so. Cronenberg’s intentions for Max’s outcome may have influenced his plotting. That still might not be enough for the viewer who feels there’s an unbalanced ratio of questions to answers.

Now that we’ve been in the internet age for decades, Videodrome has the ostensible appearance of quaintness. For many, however, the digital world increasingly has taken the place of reality. This film invites us to reflect on who or what controls what or who as technology, especially as a means of entertainment, becomes ever more intertwined with humanity. Cronenberg presents ideas that he might not fully flesh out. Still, having something to mull over is better than just relying on visual effects to capture your audience’s attention.

We begin mid-conversation between scientist Seth Brundel (Jeff Goldblum) and reporter Veronica Quaife (Geena Davis) at an expo for researchers and inventors. Seth nonchalantly mentions that unlike the others, his invention will transform the world. Though she should exercise caution, Veronica is intrigued and brings back the mysterious and awkward Seth back to his place. Her doubts are soon shorn when he demonstrates his teleportation pods are not a gimmick. It’s a reality, that if publicized, would change the transportation world.

The only hiccup is that device cannot process “the flesh,” metaphorically and literally. Living material is not able to teleport successively. After Veronica helps him understand the flesh through connection, he’s able to solve the conundrum. Soon after though, this connection to another human leads to the sticky business of emotions that Seth has shut off for years. With a flare-up of anger and jealousy, he commits an error of judgement. The results are a genetic abomination and a tragedy for both.

Cronenberg’s most commercially and critically acclaimed film was surprise hit for 1986. Previous science-fiction horror remakes such as John Carpenter’s The Thing had lackluster response from both the audience and critics at the time. One would likely have predicted that the grisly fly transformation effects and dour ending would’ve dampened the box office. Instead, people praised the make-up. They also seemed to relate to the story of losing a loved one to a terminal disease, even with it wrapped in a fantastical package. The world seems to have changed much from 1982.

The relationship between Seth and Veronica is a draw for audiences, especially for those more inclined to dismiss the horror and science fiction genres as juvenile, or even worse, as junk. We don’t know what to feel when we first come across Seth. He’s not conventionally attractive per Hollywood standards, though there’s a spark of charm. He’s boastful, but his awkward nature somehow prevents this from tipping into an ugly arrogance. His behavior with Veronica when she first comes to his place would normally come across as creepy. However, he doesn’t attempt to make a first move romantically. He’s so unaware that he forgets that she came along as a journalist. He just wants to confide something important with another. His interaction with Veronica shows that he’s lived an isolated life, either by choice or social neglect.

It helps that the film sets up a scuzzy antagonist, Stathis (John Getz). This former boyfriend of Veronica and somewhat stereotypical corporate type provides the ick factor to keep us on Seth’s side. (It’s a fact in 80s movies that if you’re a professional with a beard, you’re distrustful). Though even he has a side that may prove to be a surprise to the audience, being part of the resolution to the escalating tragedy of Seth’s transformation.

Besides Cronenberg’s direction, Howard Shore’s score elevates the material beyond semi-remembered b-movie schlock. Shore pulls away from the synth soundscapes of the previous Cronenberg film Videodrome. He decides to flood the audience with an operatic-instrumental orchestration from the titles onward. Depending on the scene, the music whips our emotions from wonder of discovery to tension of frayed love to despair of biological terminus. Even though the sudden start and sharp end of the film could make the story seem like a slice-of-life narrative, the music transforms it into a 20th century tragedy. Just as in Classical Greek tragedy, where fate and the gods punish characters for their hubris, Seth is led down a similar path. It’s no wonder that the director later adapted the film into an opera.

There’s not much more that one can say about the make-up effects than already said. They are grotesque and especially in the final stage, out-of-this-world. However, Cronenberg never neglects the human element. What does that mean? We will likely never come across a man genetically spliced to a fly. However, it’s almost definite that we’ll see a friend or family member decay either due to disease or old age. It may not be as alien and dramatic a transformation as we see with Seth, but it’s a transformation from what we once knew, nonetheless.

At every stage of his change into the creature, we still see the once briefly happy and awkward man trying to poke through. Even though we know he no longer can fit with this world, we’re still sad to see the person that was Seth Brundle go. At the end, there’s still a personality within the insect.

The Fly is a cautionary tale, but the lessons are unlike that of the original 50s film. Yes, hubris in scientific endeavors may lead to unexpected, even unwanted results. This film, however, is warning that there must be a balance between technology and the heart (or the flesh). Seth is stunted socially until he meets Veronica. With her touch, he can make the final touch on his discovery. However, a life of withdrawn emotions has not prepared him when feelings break free, and he cares for an actual person. This lack of emotional control is just as harmful as living without emotion. It ends up costing Seth. The paradox is that during the journey to becoming a fly, Seth embraced more fully what it means to be human.

Back in 1982, director Ridley Scott dropped the audience into the then-future world of 2019 Los Angeles. It’s a seedy environment of perpetual darkness, rain, and urban sprawl. In this sci-fi noir, the police bring Rick Deckard (Harrison Ford) back into work after a self-imposed retirement from blade running. A blade runner is a specialized detective whose job is to track down bio-engineered humanoids called replicants. These are not robots, but society does not consider them fully human due to their synthetic creation and lack of emotional maturity. Will Deckard maintain his humanity during this ruthless pursuit, or has his life in this dystopia already stripped him of it? Furthermore, there are deeper puzzles to solve, especially in the 1992 and 2007 cuts.

1982 was a special year for science fiction films. In addition to Blade Runner, the year saw the release of E.T., The Thing, and Star Trek II; The Wrath of Khan, among others. Likely due to the crowded field and possible audience surprise at the film being not a typical heroic Harrison Ford picture, the film was a box office disappointment. It made just near 1.5 times its production budget, and this not including advertising, one can feel Scott’s and the studio’s hurt. Contemporarily, it’s still not a mainstream hit, but it’s developed such a cult following that the studio released a sequel years later. Moreover, Blade Runner’s aesthetic and mood influenced more popular science fiction films since its release than nearly any other property. This is why it’s good to see what makes Blade Runner still a thing.

Even years later, the visuals are still a wonder to observe. The combination of design and in-camera effects put the viewer in a world that is both tangible and strange. For those who have grown up on a diet of CGI, this is all physical and camera trickery. For the cityscape, the team utilized models and matte paintings, but the world is real enough that you can feel you can just drop in and shuffle amongst the crowded representation of the future. Just think of the time needed for the multipass exposures that helped give the film its unique neon-lit against darkness lighting. It gave the audience a different idea of what science fiction could be from the Star Wars and Star Trek properties.

But who are the characters that we’re following in this update of noir cinema? Deckard is the typical film noir detective: burnt-out, possibly alcoholic, and with no future. Really, he’s not much of a hero. Throughout the film, he barely makes it out of his scraps, and when he does, there’s nothing triumphant. It’s not surprising that audience interest fell off the film; word got out that Ford was not playing another Indiana Jones or Han Solo. However, it’s interesting that Ford risked playing a role different from his previous pulp characters. One could say he was reaching back to his brief role as an army officer in Apocalypse Now. Some say the disinterested attitude was due to his dissatisfaction on the movie set. It worked that it matched the listless character he was supposed to portray.

The star of the film is Roy Batty (Rutger Hauer). Despite being artificial, he’s the most sympathetic character, even after some of his brutal actions. Despite being a type of superman, he displays the most human qualities during his quest with his fellow replicants. He often shows this without words; though, his dialogue is memorable as well. The femme fatale Rachel (Sean Young) is probably the weakest of the main characters. Still, her stilted manner and speaking could be considered to be a positive attribute to add to the mystery of who she is revealed to be. Other acting props are for the weirdness of Gaff, the cold detachment of Tyrell, and the playful quirkiness of Pris.

What is most memorable about Blade Runner is the music. The production could’ve gone with traditional orchestration. Vangelis instead composed a melancholy, jazzy synth score. This perfectly sets the mood for the future setting, while paying tribute to the tropes of film noir. In fact, in addition to the synthesizers, the score utilized a saxophonist for the popular “Love Theme.” In addition, you can hear bits of Asian and Middle-Eastern tinges throughout the film. These showcase the multiethnic atmosphere of 2019 Los Angeles.

Does it date the film from being of the eighties? To a certain extent, yes. However, one should distinguish between quality and mediocre synthesizer work. Quality work brings a sense of wonder, charm, or menace depending on the emotional mood of the film. It gives added texture to remind a person that this film is from a never to be repeated era. Vangelis is one of the masters to bring on that nostalgia.

Some have leveled criticisms of dullness, lethargy, and aimless plotting against Blade Runner. Looking at the film from a certain point of view, these thoughts could have some merit. This is not an action film, at least not in the modern sense. It’s a work that emphasizes mood and atmosphere. Often, other films focus on getting the hero from point a to point b. Some will balk at this type of cinema. That’s their right. There’s a reason why the film has been re-released in multiple cuts over the years beyond the Ridley Scott revisions.

But they shouldn’t discount the impact that the film has. People will never widely love it like many of the blockbusters of the time. Even some more critically and popularly derided fare of the time like The Thing have seemed to rise to more public consciousness than Blade Runner. Still, Blade Runner welcomes at least a first view for the uninitiated. We see bits of the future running before us rather than soaring into space through this type of relatively grounded science fiction.

In the spring of 1989, a film that was supposed to make waves in the creature feature genre only made ripples. Critically lambasted, George P. Cosmatos’s Leviathan didn’t even make its budget back in theatrical revenues. It didn’t help that it was the year of multiple underwater sci-fi films. Audiences and critics looked forward to James Cameron’s The Abyss instead. However, despite its flaws, are there elements that might entice the modern viewer?

In the beginning, we find out that a crew of Tri-Oceanic Corp is at the end of a three-month underwater operation. These crew members are tired, and the majority are eager to return above shore. During what was to be a final job, a crew member salvages a safe from a downed Soviet submarine (funny now as the film is set in 2027, and the Soviet Union would collapse in 1991 in reality). A celebratory occasion turns into a nightmare. The crew learns too late that the submarine was scuttled deliberately for humanity’s sake.

The film features a strong selection of character actors, whose interaction with each other is one of the film’s strong points. Peter Weller (of Robocop fame) stars as Steven Beck, the geologist supervising the mining operation. Richard Crenna is the company physician with a troubled past. Ernie Hudson, Amanda Pays, Daniel Stern, Hector Elizondo, Lisa Eilbacher, and Michael Carmine round out the rest of the crew.

Special note goes out to Hudson and Stern. Hudson plays his character Justin Jones as sarcastic, antagonistic, but ultimately caring. However, what happens to him near the end though is so dumb that even Hudson voiced his concerns to the director. For most people used to Stern as his character in the Home Alone films, his role as Sixpack might be a bit of a shock. He plays one of the most one-note, scuzzy characters. It’s surprising that the crew would have tolerated his presence for that period without coming to blows. It’s fitting that his actions lead to the crew’s outcome. Meg Foster also shows up as the Tri-Oceanic CEO who may or may not have the crew’s best interests in mind.

Visually, the film is fine. Unlike The Abyss, the filmmakers utilized dry-for-wet shooting for most of the scenes. Unless you play really close attention, it’s difficult to tell the difference. Furthermore, few of the action scenes occur underwater, with most occurring within the mining facility. Thus, there’s more of a necessity for a believable sound stage, which the production provided.

Obviously, for this type of film, the focus is going to be on the creature effects. In honesty, there are both good and bad elements of the Stan Winston design. The mutations that affect the crew are still praiseworthy years later. Though critics derided the film as an imitation of previous films, the effects are still nightmare-worthy up to a point. That point is when the audience sees the final reveal of the creature. With that as the look, the director and cinematographer probably should’ve left it underwater and in the dark. What was freaky and out-of-this-world looks cheap by the end. This became a rushed production. However, the director and studio knew this, and there should’ve been a decision to not have the climax in daylight.

Praise goes to Jerry Goldsmith for the music. He begins by invoking the mystery of the ocean with a swelling orchestral score featuring whale calls. Of course, as the terror progresses, he utilizes more tension-based pieces. During the chases, I think there’s even a tinge of pulsating synth, though the horns and strings remain prominent. I even give props for the concluding piece, “A Lot Better.” It however sounds more appropriate for a classic western or the end credits of a triumphant sports film. The director and composer likely felt that they needed music to match the visuals of the survivors departing in victory.

Leviathan was and is never going to equal likes of Alien, The Thing, or The Abyss. Yes, it’s derivative and a bit mindless. Not all films however have to be classics. Some are above average flicks to put on for some thrills and showcasing of the talent, whether it’s acting or effects. If you’re not into creature features then I cannot recommend this movie as a must-see. However, if you like B-movies with mostly top-grade production, then you might want to give it a view. Moreover, it’s one of those movies that feels tangible unlike the CGI-reliant features that are dominant now. That buoys this underwater feature up a little.