I read the plot synopsis yesterday, and it seems like it could be either intriguingly artistic or too much of a gross-out flick.
I will probably give it a try, but I do carry some apprehension regarding the latter prospect.
I just viewed
Crimes of the Future, and I actually found it more "intriguingly artistic" than "a gross-out flick." It has its grisly and sadomasochistic elements, of course, but unlike Nora, I did not find it revulsive or overly gross. The gore factor was not excessive for me, and the film is quite artistic. The cinematography is crisp in a solid, spare sort of way, and the fact that the filmmakers shot the movie in Athens, Greece, adds to the visual look. Indeed,
Crimes of the Future is quite mesmerizing and engrossing—it truly held my attention, which is all the more remarkable given that the narrative is thin and irrational, there are no characters worth caring about, and the thematic value is modest at best.
In other words, Cronenberg helmed a truly atmospheric movie. The film offers eerie quietude and constant tension, along with excellent sound mixing as the actors' voices slightly echo through spare or empty space, adding to the atmospherics. Perhaps in part because of the black, shrouding, monk-like costume worn by the male protagonist, played by Viggo Mortensen,
Crimes of the Future even reminded me of an Ingmar Bergman film, such as
The Seventh Seal (1957). It is not, of course, nearly on the level of a Bergman classic, and this movie is grislier and tawdrier in a modernistic sense, but there is a similar sense of quietude, symbolism, metaphor, and enveloping atmosphere.
Of course, the story does not make much sense, as Mortensen's character essentially acknowledges at one point. Apparently, the deliberate ingestion of plastics produces aberrant organs that can then be passed on to one's progeny. Moreover, surgery—or just violent cutting—replicates and replaces sexual pleasure. At best, this idea approximates the notion of violence supplanting sex in some people's lives, usually those of male loners. (It is, for instance, arguably an inchoate or unstated theme in Don Siegel's
Dirty Harry, from 1971.) But presenting the idea so directly, as in
Crimes of the Future, feels flimsy more than profound. The film fares better, thematically, in its suggestion that if one really thinks about it, the idea that plastic surgery creates or enhances beauty is bizarre and absurd. Had Cronenberg centered his movie around that one thematic concept and reoriented the plot to match it,
Crimes of the Future could have become something greater.
The movie's conclusion—right before the closing credits—was not one that I understood while watching it. But I seemed to grasp it in the restroom afterwards. The dénouement is ironic, almost to the point of suggesting that the whole movie is a black comedy, even though it is never funny.
Like many stylized science-fiction films, the characters in
Crimes of the Future are cold and fail to generate humanistic interest. I concur with Nora that Kristen Stewart, looking younger, more innocent, and less sophisticated than in some of her other roles, offers the most intrigue. Incidentally, there is quite a bit of female toplessness, with French actress Léa Seydoux, coming off her role as James Bond's wife in
No Time to Die, displaying her sensuous figure (trim pubic hair included) in a way that she of course could not in the 007 film. So, there is that. (Actually, one wonders if the plot constitutes an excuse for showing female nudity.)
Overall, I deem
Crimes of the Future "pretty good," meaning above-average, albeit less than a full-fledged "good" film. As I have noted, the movie certainly has its flaws, but it also makes for a worthwhile cinematic experience and the performances are quietly intense. I encourage anyone interested to see the picture for yourself and then gauge whether your response is more like mine or Nora's (although our assessments certainly overlap).
