The Fly (1986)
May 14th 2009 01:30
"I'm saying I'm an insect who dreamt he was a man and loved it, but now that dream is over and the insect is awake."
It’s a known fact that I’m a big fan of David Cronenberg. His embrace and melding of sf concepts and visceral horror are unique and brilliant. His remake of The Fly (1958) is no exception. While some critics would accuse Cronenberg of trying to turn something truly base and repulsive into high art, the movie turned out to be the most financially successful and critically-acclaimed movie of his career (it won an Oscar for Best Special Effects), and it also features Jeff Goldblum’s best ever performance.
Screenwriter Charles Edward Pogue originated the idea of doing a remake of the classic B-movie. When Cronenberg came onboard (after aborting from the Total Recall project he was set to direct), he requested he be able to make extensive re-writes, which he did, but he retained Pogue’s central “fusion” concept.
Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum) is an incredibly talented, but eccentric scientist. He lives alone in a warehouse space in a rundown building. At a convention he’s badgered into doing an interview by Veronica (Geena Davis), an ambitious science journalist. Brundle agrees, but only if he can show her his Big Secret, something that will change the world as they know it. It’s obvious there’s an attraction between them.
Brundle’s Big Secret is teleportation, and Veronica is suitably impressed. But the computer Brundle has built is only able to teleport inanimate objects. Roni and Seth come to an arrangement where she will exclusively document the scientific process Brundle is undergoing to achieve the teleportation of human flesh. They become lovers.
Roni’s magazine editor Stathis (John Getz) also happens to be her sleazy ex-boyfriend, and win he finds out the kind of story she’s sitting on he interferes and starts making demands. Brundle becomes jealous of Roni’s involvement, and in a drunken moment alone he makes a rash decision: he teleports himself. He comes out of Telepod B feeling more alive than ever. But there was a problem he’s unaware of; a wandering fly happened to get inside Telepod A with Brundle, and thus the confused computer fuses both Brundle and fly at the genetic-molecular level.
Seth Brundle slowly, but surely begins to turn into a giant mutation of human and fly. Steadily at first, but intensifying as the “disease” worsens, Brundle takes on the behaviour of an insect, or as Brundlefly calls it “insect politics”. What Brundle had originally interpreted as human perfection, was far from it; the teleportation might have given him the superhuman strength and a ferocious libido, but it was caving in to sub-human instincts. Everything had gone very, very pear-shaped.
Cronenberg’s fascination with the disintegration of the body, the perversely close relationship between human and machine, the dangers of experimentation, the desire for dark adventure, are all superbly integrated in his take of The Fly. It is arguably one of the best remakes ever produced.
There is genuine chemistry between Goldblum and Davis (they became long-term partners during the making of the movie), and Getz plays the third fiddle as solid support. The special effects by Chris Walas (who would go on to direct the incredibly disappointing, and unnecessary sequel), some of which involved five hours of sitting in the make-up chair for Goldblum, are amazing for the time. The degradation of Brundle is something in itself, right up to the animatronic monster at move’s end, but also of note are the gore effects (the snapped wrist in the arm wrestle scene is a wince-inducing stand-out). Curious to note was a scene in the shooting script which was (unfortunately) never filmed: Brundlefly is scoffing restaurant leftovers from a dumpster and a bag-lady sees him and screams in horror and disgust. Brundlefly reacts by seizing the lady and disintegrating her head with his vile vomit, then after recoils in a moment of human realisation at what he’s just done.
Also impressive is the use of a revolving set (which Stanley Kurbick pioneered in 2001: A Space Odyssey) which creates the illusion of Brundlefly climbing up the wall and onto the ceiling of his warehouse. Nowadays it would be done with CGI, but back then it was all in-camera, and it’s definitely more convincing.
The Fly (the full title should read David Cronenberg’s The Fly, because its such an auteur work) is so cleverly put together, and so grand in its tragedy it’s almost Shakespearean. Perhaps I’m putting the movie on a pedestal, but it’s aged very well (apart from the hideous 80s fashion), and continues to age like a fortified wine, getting more and more robust with each passing year. It’s over twenty years old, but the thematic content, even the basic sf principle is still as fascinating as it ever was, perhaps even more so in this rapidly over-congesting world.
Thank God Cronenberg decided against the alternate ending (which can be viewed, along with several other intriguing deleted scenes, and numerous other wonderful bonus extras on the Special Edition DVD), which had a heavily pregnant Roni in bed with Stathis (who’s had a beautiful prosthetic arm attached) waking up in anxiety, then falling back to sleep and dreaming her baby is born from a cocoon with big butterfly wings, who then gurgles, takes flight and heads toward the bright spindly light, which looked to me a little like a spider web …
NB: In June last year an Opera based on Cronenberg’s movie premiered in Paris. Directed by Cronenberg, composed by Howard Shore (who did the excellent original movie score – and most of Cronenberg’s latter films), and conducted by Placido Domingo. Now that would be a weird night at the opera.
Here's the trailer:
It’s a known fact that I’m a big fan of David Cronenberg. His embrace and melding of sf concepts and visceral horror are unique and brilliant. His remake of The Fly (1958) is no exception. While some critics would accuse Cronenberg of trying to turn something truly base and repulsive into high art, the movie turned out to be the most financially successful and critically-acclaimed movie of his career (it won an Oscar for Best Special Effects), and it also features Jeff Goldblum’s best ever performance.
Screenwriter Charles Edward Pogue originated the idea of doing a remake of the classic B-movie. When Cronenberg came onboard (after aborting from the Total Recall project he was set to direct), he requested he be able to make extensive re-writes, which he did, but he retained Pogue’s central “fusion” concept.
Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum) is an incredibly talented, but eccentric scientist. He lives alone in a warehouse space in a rundown building. At a convention he’s badgered into doing an interview by Veronica (Geena Davis), an ambitious science journalist. Brundle agrees, but only if he can show her his Big Secret, something that will change the world as they know it. It’s obvious there’s an attraction between them.
Brundle’s Big Secret is teleportation, and Veronica is suitably impressed. But the computer Brundle has built is only able to teleport inanimate objects. Roni and Seth come to an arrangement where she will exclusively document the scientific process Brundle is undergoing to achieve the teleportation of human flesh. They become lovers.
Roni’s magazine editor Stathis (John Getz) also happens to be her sleazy ex-boyfriend, and win he finds out the kind of story she’s sitting on he interferes and starts making demands. Brundle becomes jealous of Roni’s involvement, and in a drunken moment alone he makes a rash decision: he teleports himself. He comes out of Telepod B feeling more alive than ever. But there was a problem he’s unaware of; a wandering fly happened to get inside Telepod A with Brundle, and thus the confused computer fuses both Brundle and fly at the genetic-molecular level.
Seth Brundle slowly, but surely begins to turn into a giant mutation of human and fly. Steadily at first, but intensifying as the “disease” worsens, Brundle takes on the behaviour of an insect, or as Brundlefly calls it “insect politics”. What Brundle had originally interpreted as human perfection, was far from it; the teleportation might have given him the superhuman strength and a ferocious libido, but it was caving in to sub-human instincts. Everything had gone very, very pear-shaped.
Cronenberg’s fascination with the disintegration of the body, the perversely close relationship between human and machine, the dangers of experimentation, the desire for dark adventure, are all superbly integrated in his take of The Fly. It is arguably one of the best remakes ever produced.
There is genuine chemistry between Goldblum and Davis (they became long-term partners during the making of the movie), and Getz plays the third fiddle as solid support. The special effects by Chris Walas (who would go on to direct the incredibly disappointing, and unnecessary sequel), some of which involved five hours of sitting in the make-up chair for Goldblum, are amazing for the time. The degradation of Brundle is something in itself, right up to the animatronic monster at move’s end, but also of note are the gore effects (the snapped wrist in the arm wrestle scene is a wince-inducing stand-out). Curious to note was a scene in the shooting script which was (unfortunately) never filmed: Brundlefly is scoffing restaurant leftovers from a dumpster and a bag-lady sees him and screams in horror and disgust. Brundlefly reacts by seizing the lady and disintegrating her head with his vile vomit, then after recoils in a moment of human realisation at what he’s just done.
Also impressive is the use of a revolving set (which Stanley Kurbick pioneered in 2001: A Space Odyssey) which creates the illusion of Brundlefly climbing up the wall and onto the ceiling of his warehouse. Nowadays it would be done with CGI, but back then it was all in-camera, and it’s definitely more convincing.
The Fly (the full title should read David Cronenberg’s The Fly, because its such an auteur work) is so cleverly put together, and so grand in its tragedy it’s almost Shakespearean. Perhaps I’m putting the movie on a pedestal, but it’s aged very well (apart from the hideous 80s fashion), and continues to age like a fortified wine, getting more and more robust with each passing year. It’s over twenty years old, but the thematic content, even the basic sf principle is still as fascinating as it ever was, perhaps even more so in this rapidly over-congesting world.
Thank God Cronenberg decided against the alternate ending (which can be viewed, along with several other intriguing deleted scenes, and numerous other wonderful bonus extras on the Special Edition DVD), which had a heavily pregnant Roni in bed with Stathis (who’s had a beautiful prosthetic arm attached) waking up in anxiety, then falling back to sleep and dreaming her baby is born from a cocoon with big butterfly wings, who then gurgles, takes flight and heads toward the bright spindly light, which looked to me a little like a spider web …
NB: In June last year an Opera based on Cronenberg’s movie premiered in Paris. Directed by Cronenberg, composed by Howard Shore (who did the excellent original movie score – and most of Cronenberg’s latter films), and conducted by Placido Domingo. Now that would be a weird night at the opera.
Here's the trailer:
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Comment by Damo
I am glad you reviewed this forgotten gem.
The film was very intense in its day, Plus the role suited Goldblum to a tee. His take was how people can become monstrous at different points in their lives.
There were a few low points, but too few to mention.
The FX were good and the tension held throughout the climax.
I never saw the sequel because I never felt the desire to see it.
Comment by Natalina
My Life My Muse
Beta Girl Blog
But like I said that was a looong time ago, so perhaps I'll have to give it another go. I may have gotten tougher over the years.
I wonder if there is film of that Opera available anywhere. I would LOVE to see that.
Comment by Morgan Bell
Deep Pencil
Business News
Movie Train
hes kind of handsome in a gangly odd sort of way
Comment by Jason King
Sydney Table
Salty Popcorn
Total Randomness
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Lilla
From The Home Front
Enviro Warrior
Dream Herald
Esoteric Bookshop
Funny the films you forget ~ oldies but such goodies. . . the ending was so sad, I cried.
The funny thing is though, that despite the intensity of this film ~ at the time ~ I never thought of it as horror. I guess I am a horrophile of sorts after all.
Goldblum was never that young, was he?
Lilla
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Yes it is a sad movie indeed, a real tragedy of sorts.
Interesting that you didn't see it as horror, and I even was bold enough to make the Shakespearean comment!
Jeff certainly looks young here, as does Geena. They married after this movie.
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
Comment by Anonymous
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile