Crimes of the Future - In Review
opining on David Cronenberg's most emotionally mature jab at body horror
'Crimes of the Future' imagines a society where the idea of cherishing inner beauty is so foreign it has been made, de facto, illegal. It posits a world where the idea of ever-unfolding newness is so frightening it has been relegated to the niche realm of performance art. It envisions a world where self-care is rendered so horrifying we are willing to rely on malevolent corporations to do for us what we should be doing for ourselves.
What is the nature of pain? A warning system? A beacon that guides our attention to where attention is necessary? "Pain is always associated with sleep"—for does sleep not require a certain degree of freedom from pain? What is waking life but a process of monitoring the body and soothing pain towards the end of restful sleep? Was it ever meant to be something more? All we really have is our bodies and we'd do well to respect that. There's nothing unnatural about what we experience because bodily experience is, by definition, natural. You're either leaning into what you've got or lying to yourself about what you really need. Only one of these two ways results in a life free from pain—happiness would be another word for it.
Sex is a major theme in 'Crimes of the Future,’ the intimate invasiveness of surgery being used to comment on humanity's sexual psyche. Love and intimacy are rooted in openness, the willingness of one person to give something of themselves for the benefit of another. This is the fundamental truth at the root of the sexual experience and it is merely one metaphor for love of all kinds. Surgery involves cutting into the body towards the end of self-improvement. If surgery is the new sex then the willingness to open oneself for another (to be open to self-improvement) is about the most erotic thing imaginable.
Viggo Mortensen's Saul Tenser (what a fitting name) is a man at odds with his very nature. He hates himself, living in fear of his body, doing everything he can to avoid communion with the natural evolution of his being. Yet he has glimpsed something bright, something attractive, something that pulls him beyond the darkness of his past towards the promise of beauty unimaginable. In following this promise he is able to finally trust himself and in doing so, experience joy. By being fearless in his pursuit of love he found something he did not even know he was looking for, though he had been desperately searching for so long. Love often finds us in just this way.
Cronenberg comments on mankind's tendency for heedless consumption, using the evolution of diet to sever the tail of the ouroboros that binds humanity to its cyclical self-destruction. Consumption of our waste is the inevitability of human selflessness. If we were truly honest with ourselves we would do as the mushrooms do and find ways to make use of our byproducts. Perhaps a truly selfless approach to appetite would involve the consumption of our own excrement. It isn’t as scary as it sounds if you really stop to think about it.
There's so much going on here and it's all handled so gracefully, so sensually, sometimes even fleetingly. There are countless ideas of cosmic significance being bantered about that are easy to miss if you aren’t paying attention. As always, we're treated to some delightful lines that I'll arrange here in a somewhat chronological order.
"Body is reality."
"Surgery is the new sex."
"Pain is always associated with sleep."
"A good night's sleep is a hard thing to define when you're an artist that seeks pain."
"An organism needs organization, otherwise it's just designer cancer."
"Watching you suddenly filled me with the desire to cut my face open."
"A desire to be open is often the beginning of something exciting."
"Has it ever occurred to you that you might simply be interfering in a fantastic natural process that you should surrender to?"
"The body was not empty of meaning."
"If you want to be good at living undercover, a part of you has to believe."