Posts Tagged With: Canucksploitation

“Rod Munch, Eh Boys?” Marilyn Chambers Is Insatiable In David Cronenberg’s RABID…

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Never the Rose without the prick…

… but not for sperm… nor even a squirt of Ivory Snow. In her one “legit” feature credit, the hard core hussy (whose opportunistic “more bang for your buck” casting as  protagonist Rose pays off in a far stronger performance than anybody would probably have expected… her Porno pedigree, furthermore, adds retrospective resonance to any notion of Rabid as an AIDS jeremiad) is out for blood after a life-saving radical skin graft leaves her with a biomechanoidal syringe in her armpit… what were the odds on that? (*) Well, she is in a David Cronenberg film… and anybody who’s watched more than a couple of episodes of Dr Pimple Popper could have warned her about going under the knife at an institution rejoicing in the name of… The Keloid Clinic(!)

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Behind The Green Door

Those on the receiving end of lil’ Armpit Elmer’s attentions develop a rabies-like condition that converts them into drooling zombies and compels them to chow down on the nearest (even if that also happens to be their dearest) human being. Soon Montreal is under martial law, as the search for this epidemic’s “Typhoid Mary” / Patient Zero intensifies. “I’m still me…” she protests to appalled boyfriend Hart (Frank Moore) when he finds her draining the life juices from best friend Mindy (Susan Roman): “I’m still Rose!” Well, she kind of is and kind of isn’t, in an ongoing tradition of Cronenberg antiheroes and heroines that probably reaches its zenith with Jeff Goldblum’s Seth Brundle in The Fly (1986).

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Cronenberg is a director of rare intelligence who hasn’t always managed to parlay the musings of his superfine mind into coherent and compelling films… and I’m happy to concede that a film doesn’t necessarily have to be coherent to be compelling. Shivers (1975) and Rabid (1977) adhere closely and usefully to the Romero formula of interweaving personal and societal apocalypse. Thereafter he spread his narrative wings, with mixed results. I’m as mesmerised as anybody by the magnificent metastasising mess of a movie that is Videodrome (1983) but was somewhat less than enthralled when Cronenberg attempted to push his preoccupations into the bleak hinterlands and interzones of Ballard and Burroughs. As for his attempt to write his own “Ballard type” novel Consumed… well,  it’s a sizeable literary misfire to which I won’t be returning any time soon. I will though definitely be watching 101’s restoration of Rabid again. Cronenberg’s sophomore feature looks (with minimal distracting grain) and sounds mighty fresh here and there are further rich pickings to be found among the extras on the second disc of this limited edition set (some of them collated from previous releases).

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Can’t comment on the limited edition booklet containing essays by Alex Morris and Greg Dunning because we hacks never get that stuff.  I did appreciate Xavier Mendik and Phillip Escott’s documentary about Cinepix And The Birth of the Canadian Horror Film (its actual title is much longer), in which most of the surviving significant players explain their part in the Tax Shelter Era, covering the likes of Cannibal Girls (1973) and Death Weekend (1976… goodness me, they had beautiful storyboards on that one!) along with the Cronenberg titles that provoked such outrage in the Canadian chambers of Parliament. Along the way, we non-Canucks  learn just how closely Cronenberg’s vision of martial law in Montreal mirrors a genuine and major political crisis that had recently played out. There are interviews with (obviously) Cronenberg (predictably thought provoking stuff), Susan (“Mindy”) Roman (an engaging lady, now mainly making her living as a voice over artist) and amusing ones with co-producers Ivan Reitman and Don Carmody. You get the obligatory trailer, of course and an hour long TV doc in which many of Cronenberg’s leading players have their say on the man and his vision. One of the more interesting asides concerns Cronenberg appearing on the first morning of shooting Rabid and announcing his intention to tear up the script and start making Dead Ringers instead!

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Struggling to get my review of this edition into print within touching distance of its release date, I haven’t yet had the chance to take in ant of its commentary tracks, of which there are no less than four(!), courtesy of Cronenberg himself, William Beard (author of The Artist As Monster: The Cinema Of David Cronenberg), Jill C. Nelson (author of Golden Goddesses: 25 Legendary Women Of Classic Erotic Cinema, 1968-1985) and Chambers’ Personal Appearances Manager Ken Leicht and finally, the co-directors of the 2019 Rabid remake, Jen & Sylvia Soska. I’m not, generally speaking, a big fan of remakes and have heard mixed word on this one, but who knows, perhaps when I’ve heard their comments on the original I’ll be more inclined to give the Soska sisters’ revamp a look? If so, you’ll be the first to know…

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Behind the green fridge door…

(*) Antonio Margheriti and Dardano Sacchetti certainly found Rabid’s central plot premise appealing enough, as a cursory glance at Cannibal Apocalypse (1980) will testify.

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