Cronenbergian Auteurism

For a person who wasn’t going to school for film, David Cronenberg has carved himself a pretty formidable reputation as both master of horror as well as culturally conscious auteur. From his low budget, Canadian government financed body horror to his recent Hollywood and Oscar nominated family dramas, his career has spanned multiple decades and multiple countries. Yet for all the attention he has received both locally and internationally, his reputation, as a confident and competent director, has not been undermined.

Ernest Mathijs describes Cronenberg as an active auteur, someone whose authorial presence transcends the screen and enters the public sphere to help adapt interpretations and reactions to his films. While many are ready to discount his early efforts to the hoards of b-horror stockpiles, he countered them by claiming artistic merit in his work. And while his string of films through the 80’s and 90’s certainly deserve such merit uncontested, his early work demanded a bit more defense. In 1981, Cronenberg’s film Scanners was marketed around a few single seconds of the film. These 47 frames have since entered the cult film kingdom as not only impressive, but immortal. As a character’s tense and panicked face contort to supreme fear and submission, his head explodes in a bloody detonation of rabbit livers and dog food. The aftermath, although bloody on-screen, was much more alarming off-screen. Mathijs devotes no less than half a dozen pages to the exploding head, its effects, and its reception. But more importantly, is its connection and importance in the oeuvre of its director.

If the sex parasites and hematophagic armpit plunger weren’t enough, Scanners’ exploding head gave the cautiously minded and socially concerned (read: uptight) something to complain about. The active and attentive Cronenberg defended his film and every film since then that has fared negatively in the public eye for its content; be it sex in Crash, masochism in Videodrome, or violence in any number of his films. While such shocking subject matter is often deemed exploitative, its true function is a synthesis of understanding and necessity.

Cronenberg’s status as acclaimed Baron of Blood and King of Venereal Horror put him very near, if not atop, the pantheon of cult film directors. So while his visually graphic money shots pertain to the story, they remain important in maintaining the fanship his early films gathered. This is important in recognizing the directorial awareness that has marked his career; a recognition and attention to the audience of his films. Yet this is not limited to the late-night male audience who just want to see exploding heads but expands into the film critic elite who pick apart his films detail by detail and criticize the content. His work has consistently garnered harsh reception by the likes of Robin Wood and others who see his b-grade horror as tastelessly full of sex and violence.

This all said, and again paying attention to his consistent awareness of his films’ receptions, Cronenberg’s active auteurism seems not only a relevant and advantageous approach but a vastly important one for any artist. As I began discussing earlier, an artist projects his work into view of an audience who will certainly bring different interpretations and run the risk of losing the intended message. This is where the creator can, or should, step in to guide how their work is seen. David Cronenberg has done this since the beginning.