The following post was written a couple of weeks ago but I forgot to post it before we went on vacation. Consequently, it's been languishing here amongst my drafts, which may have been for the best. Although we'll never know since I'm posting it now.
Peter von Kant is both a tribute to, and a reimagining of, Rainer Werner Fassbinder's 1972 classic German melodrama, The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. In this new incarnation, director Francois Ozon does a bit of gender-bending, with Petra (Fassbinder's successful fashion designer) becoming Peter, the eminent actor/director at the center of this film. When he's not busy bullying his manservant/slave Karl (Stefan Krepon), Peter complains--oh, so bitterly--about his tres, tres vie solitaire to his best friend (frenemy?), an iconic actress named Sidonie, who drops by the apartment periodically to check up on her neglectful pal. Peter, you see, has a tendency to go full-throttle on the histrionics: he's a total drama queen with substance abuse issues (among other things) and not a reliable correspondent. As a member of the same profession, Sidonie accepts Peter's temperament as part of the gifted artist package. She may need Peter to give her a job at some point and, besides, harbors some of the same tendencies. One evening, Sidonie shows up at Peter's place with her new boy toy in tow, a young French-Algerian hunk named Amir. Although Amir has a girlfriend back home and seems like a shy, innocent lad from the provinces, there is more at play here than Peter wants to admit. With a disapproving Karl watching helplessly, Peter proceeds to woo the handsome youth away from his benefactress (apparently, they're competitive that way), and it isn't long before Amir reveals his true colors and the zwiebelkuchen hits the fan. A long, slow unraveling commences, and Peter's civilized veneer--already worn razor thin--vanishes completely as he unleashes venom and abuse on not only the hapless Karl, but also the three women in his life (Sidonie, visiting teenage daughter Gaby, and his mother) who attempt a last-minute intervention.
As a longtime fan of director Ozon, I know that, with his films, it's all about the suspense of uncertainty and the drama created by his often-demanding central characters (people usually associated with the arts). There is an aesthetic to Ozon's work that gives even the dumpiest of locales--in this case, Peter's darkly stagebound apartment--a sort of elegant hauteur. The hauteur here, of course, is a reflection of both its narcissistic occupant, and his doormat, Karl. As Peter, Denis Menochet turns in a flawless performance that is both explosive and restrained. It takes a great deal of skill to walk the fine line separating high emotion from camp, but Menochet deserves an Oscar nod for his phenomenal balancing act. The still-beautiful Isabelle Adjani is a nuanced, clever Sidonie. There's an air of mystery about her and we're never sure exactly what her game is. Is she truly Peter's unconditional friend or is she manipulating the situation, using the none-too-bright Amir as a pawn? Hard to know since the friendship between Peter and Sidonie frequently veers from uneasy fondness to sardonic bitterness. As the lazily narcissistic Amir, Khalil Gharbia is hot and dusky and (initially) sweet; it's easy to see why Peter is drawn to him, even if he is the least interesting character in the movie. While Amir's subsequent behavior doesn't come as much of a surprise, the sheer ruthlessness of Gharbia's portrayal is striking. With less screen time, German actress Hanna Schygulla, the original object of desire (Karin = Amir) from Fassbinder's film, shines in her few brief scenes as Peter's mother, Rosemarie. She is particularly moving in her final scene with Peter during the movie's climactic moments. Aminthe Audiard is effective as Peter's tormented daughter, Gaby, but it is Stefan Krepon as, Karl, who almost steals the show without ever uttering a single word. All Karl's emotions--disappointment, thrill, humiliation, joy, rage--are conveyed through the actor's expressive face. Particularly his eyes. Through side-eyed glances we recognize his immediate summing-up and rejection of the young interloper Sidonie has dragged into their little fortress. It is obvious that Karl adores Peter, and sees his situation as the two of them against the world, despite the wretched way Peter treats him.
Peter von Kant is melodramatic in the best way, and highlights the bitter and darkly comic impulses that drive certain dramatic eminences towards self-destruction.
Crimes of the Future marks David Cronenberg's return to body-horror filmmaking. Once the king of that particular sub-genre of movies, Cronenberg shifted to more mass-market-friendly films (A History of Violence, Eastern Promises) in the early 21st Century before sliding down a rabbit hole of languorous, utterly forgettable projects that failed to capture either an audience or the filmmaker's genius.
Because of its graphic imagery and challenging storyline, Crimes of the Future didn't garner the attention of many theatergoers, either, but maybe it will do better on streaming services and Blu-ray. A sci-fi thriller filmed on location in Greece, Crimes of the Future features frequent Cronenberg collaborator and muse, Viggo Mortensen as Saul Tenser, a man whose body spontaneously creates new vestigial organs as a result of something called Accelerated Evolution Syndrome. In this world of the future, new technology has been devised to interact with the human body and--presumably--make life easier for the populace undergoing physical changes like Saul (some are even worse off than he is). These developments appear to do little for Saul, who is in constant pain. Saul and his partner, Caprice (Lea Seydoux) earn their livings as performance artists. A former physician, Caprice removes Saul's useless organs (referred to as "tumors") before enthusiastic crowds at an underground club in the area, while he looks on, unperturbed. Sound good?
I haven't even gotten started on the labyrinthine plot, which begins with a superstitious mother smothering her son with a pillow after catching him eating a plastic trashcan in the dirty bathroom. After which, mom calls her ex-husband and tells him to come and get the corpse of the inhuman thing lying dead on the bed. Yeesh. The reason for the kid's appetite for plastic, it seems, could be another symptom of Accelerated Evolution Syndrome, although apparently the mother didn't think of this when she killed him. The dead boy's father (Scott Speedman), on the other hand, is the leader of an anti-government revolutionary group that may--or may not--have all the answers. Eventually, after a meeting at the National Organ Registry with nerdy flirt Kristen Stewart and her boss (nerdy creep Don McKellar), Saul is enlisted by the cops to penetrate the group and see what he can find out. Soon enough, purple candy bars of toxic sludge are handed out, two female assassins armed with power drills make the rounds, more organs are harvested, Saul has a zipper installed in his stomach, Caprice gets her own head modified, double crosses occur, and....oh, the humanity!
Crimes of the Future is an extremely convoluted tale that will undoubtedly test the patience, if not the gag reflex, of many viewers. To be honest, the gore in this movie isn't cruel in the same way it is in the torture porn movies of a decade ago, or in the ghastly Lucio Fulci spectacles of the 70's. Cronenberg's movies have usually been gruesome but not lovingly so, which is what originally turned me off of Fulci in the first place. The performances in this movie are interesting. Viggo Mortensen's Saul, lumbering around town in a black cowl, looks like a sinister monk but, in fact, is curiously laid-back given his physical complications and dubious profession. I like Mortensen a lot as an actor--his physicality is a plus because he expresses so much through his body movements--but in Crimes of the Future, his character's disabilities keep him largely confined to organic chairs and undulating beds. Or, at best, a slow shuffle. He's a very believable Saul, though, and a commanding presence.
Lea Seydoux is also quite good as Saul's lover, caregiver and business partner. She's appealing and appears genuinely concerned over Saul's well-being. But, there's something behind her eyes, a certain shiftiness, perhaps, that makes you question whether we--or Saul--really know(s) all there is to know about Caprice. I also really liked Scott Speedman's performance as Lang, the revolutionary, and Nadia Litz and Tanaya Beatty as the cheerfully lethal assassins. I actually thought Nadia Litz was Bjork when I was watching this; only as the credits were rolling did I notice that she wasn't Bjork. For me, Kristen Stewart's performance was a complete misfire, and oddly out of place in an already very odd movie: if you have ever seen Julie Newmar's robotic Rhoda on the old TV series, My Living Doll, you'll note the similarities. Is Stewart's Timlin meant to be an android? Or just a nervous, horny bureaucrat? I don't know. Kristen Stewart has always been an engaging actor but her performance just throws this movie off. Though not enough for me to dislike it.
To be honest, I'm not sure why I enjoyed Crimes of the Future so much. I certainly wouldn't recommend it to anyone unfamiliar with Cronenberg's body-horror work. And I won't claim that it all made sense to me. Still, it's beautifully filmed by cinematographer Douglas Koch; the atmosphere conjured up by Cronenberg and his team is full of intrigue and danger; there's a thread of dark humor running through the film; and, finally, I was satisfied with the uniqueness of the story and where it took me. Plus, there's David Cronenberg, at age 79, finally getting back to what he does best. Oh, and I mustn't forget the special effects which are distinctly and joyously old school. In other words, no CGI here! If, after reading this, you're still undecided about whether or not you want to see it, check out the trailers on YouTube or, better yet, rent one of Cronenberg's older classics like The Brood or Videodrome. As with Crimes of the Future, you'll either love them or hate them but you probably won't be bored.
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