The Fly (1986)

Starring:  Jeff Goldblum, Geena Davis, John Getz

Directed by: David Cronenberg

Written by: David Cronenberg, Charles Edward Pouge

Duration: 1hr 36mins

Rating: 5 out of 5

BEAR WITH ME, I AM GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS 

Ronseal’s ‘It does exactly what it says on the tin’ was recently voted amongst the best ever advertising slogans on British TV.  This starkly frank and hyperbole-free statement gets right to the root of what we human beings are drawn to – the truth.  If it says it will protect your garden fence from the elements for up to five years, then you want that fence to be protected for the stated period.

Is this the same for cinema?  Do we want our expectations to be totally fulfilled – is that what makes a movie ‘good’?  If the answer was as simple as that, then romantic comedies would be the pinnacle of filmmaking.  But on the other hand, if every film was like Eraserhead, defying all convention and explanation, then we’d soon all be as barking as a David Lynch creation.

AN UNDERRATED MASTERPIECE?

DO YOU WANT THIS TO BE YOU?

No, for a film to be truly successful, it must skilfully walk a tightrope between giving you what you want and surprising you with something unexpected.  I’m usually reluctant to use the ‘p’ word, but I consider The Fly to be a perfect movie.  It both does exactly what it says on the tin and gives us so much more; it’s a superb man-accidently-turns-into-a-fly gory horror flick, but is also intelligent, emotional, tense, dramatic, romantic, funny and unforgettable.  


The Fly is ostensibly a monster movie, a modern-day retelling of Frankenstein mixed with Kafka's Metamorphosis, one where the doctor and the monster are one and the same.

DRY ICE AIDS THE TELEPORTATION PROCESS, YOU SEE... 

But Cronenberg's movie is elevated onto a higher platform by one part of the anatomy that these earlier tales are not known for: the heart – or ‘the flesh’, as the movie puts it.  Cronenberg is known as a cold, intellectual, somewhat intimidating surgeon of a director (his serial-killing psychiatrist acting turn in Cliver Barker's Nightbreed did little to negate this), and yet the romance he chronicals here gives the film a real emotional core that makes its story genuinely heart-breaking.  The Canadian presents a relationship that is intense, erotic and, ultimately, adult – which, for my money, makes it far more effective than the diluted and chaste portrayals from more lauded ‘people’ directors such as Steven Spielberg. 

BEING 'BUG-EYED' WAS AN ADVANTAGE AT AUDITION

It effectiveness is in no small part down to the chemistry of real-life couple Goldblum and Davis (as Veronica, the journalist whose interest Brundle's work on teleportation piques).  Goldblum should have won an Academy Award for Best Actor for his stunning performance.  He embodies a jittery, bashful intellect; charmingly naïve, endearingly eccentric.  With his bulging eyes and long limbs, the actor is somewhat insect-like to begin with, and as the layers of make-up are piled on and the tics increase his humanity remains and he manages to cut a compelling, sympathetic figure from start to end.

The Fly’s script is tighter than a kettle drum, with a typically Cronenbergian brief running time and a mere three main characters, Veronica’s boss and jealous ex Stathis Borans completing the triangle.  It’s contains more humour than the director has delivered before or since, with ironic observations (Brundle complains of motion sickness in a car), wit (“What are you, a bodybuilder?” gasps a floozy Brundle picks up in a bar.  “Sure I build bodies,” he replies. “I take them apart then I put them back together again”) and one exchange that always makes me laugh out loud: “I’m onto something big, huge!” Veronia gushes to Stathis after seeing Brundle’s work. “What, his COCK?!” her former lover spits.

IN OTHER WORDS ...

... 'YOU'RE FUCKED'

Much has been said about the parallels between Brundle’s deteriorating condition and ‘80s zeitgeist pandemic Aids.  Certainly you could latch onto this theory, but Cronenberg has always insisted that the movie is about the ultimate disease:  ageing.  “What’s happening?” laments Brundle as his transformation takes hold.  “Am I dying – is this how it starts?”  The movie appears to be a Michael Crichton-esque cautionary tale of man meddling with nature, which of course it is, but it’s really about our helplessness against the finiteness of life; we are all born with a body that will both grow and work towards its ultimate destiny:  to decay and die.

So, not pretty (make up wiz Chris Walas did get the Oscar he deserved, and went on to helm the silly but fun The Fly II) and not optimistic (though life does go on, in the shape of Veronica’s pregnancy) but hey – most great truths aren’t pleasant.  But, just like The Fly, they are essential.  *****