A nepo baby makes a movie about a nepo baby, but unlike other nepo babies, B. Cronenberg seems to recognize the degree of his privilege and its this exploration of talent and self doubt via James Foster that makes the movie a treat to watch. A man who doesn’t fit in, whose only true skill is leeching off the elite and then is thrust into a hallucinogenic world of sex, drugs, and violence when he attempts to fit in. There’s a lot of moving parts, probably too many, but B. Cronenberg is slowly becoming a master at translating anxiety onto the silver screen—in this case the anxiety of being seen as a failure by the people around you, but more importantly yourself. 

Sometimes I think the hyper fixation on trying to gross the audience out stymies the story, it’s much more controlled in Possessor and even Antiviral (2 movies also grappling with an anxiety, albeit with different roots) but there’s an undeniable style and voice being cultivated before our eyes that I can’t help but admire. 

And yes, I believe in Mia Goth supremacy.

Podcast Ep. 101- January Horror Recap