The only reason this got one star instead of none was the fact that James Woods was in it (plus you can’t rate items with less than one star…). I felt like turning it off after the first ten minutes because it was so boring, but I decided to give a try. I would rather have my time back then say I watched that dull bit of movie making. I can’t believe any of you would call this a classic. It’s a classic piece of boring trash, and thats about it. Besides Woods, the acting was terrible, the storyline mundane, and what little special effects there were did not really impress. But I guess some people need to cling to a movie that stinks like this, just so they can tell people they think its a classic.

Confusing, silly and boring at times. Not that good.

This past week I was feeling mildly nefarious, so I decided to douse myself with the oleaginous and often sickening delights of David Cronenberg. After watching in utter dismay the the tremendously awful Gummo (excuse my slip – it must have been impelled by my fragile and culpable adoration of big budget muscle-flicks – I mean the unquestioningly brilliant and profound Gummo)I rather gingerly inserted the new Videodrome disc into my dvd player. I had viewed the film on two prior occassions some time ago, and I remember being vaguely disappointed with the film’s incongruous denouement. However, I heard that Criterion planned on giving the movie some prestigious treatment so I endeavored to pick it up and give the special features a cursory glance. Well that minor fascination segued into a desire to see the film in its entirety so I invited a college buddy over to watch Mr. Cronenberg’s celluloid exigency on the portentous capabilities of progressive technology. Watching Videodrome this time around provided an ample opportunity to reassess its theories and meditations. As previously I was impressed by the intriguing progression of the story (in its first incarnation – before the multitude of hallucinations), this time I was piqued by the intellectual implications of the film and the way in which they were presented. What makes Videodrome a good movie and a worthwhile venture to me isn’t the movie itself (which in objective summation does seem poorly executed – stained also with the eyebrow sizzling stagnancy of Debbie Harry’s “performance”) but its ideas, which in hindsight seems quite apropo given the exchange between two characters midway through the film (it’s dangerous not because it is in being, but by virtue of the fact that it has something sorely lacking in most movies – a philosophy). There’s a certain resounding poignancy with the movie in contemporary society (probably more so now than when it was originally released) that almost suggest Cronenberg can divine the future. The main character’s vested interest in sado-masochistic behavior for no conceivable reason other than idleness is analogous to the flux of survivor related game shows that push the endurance of ordinary denizens. The intimation that our macabre obsession and media manipulation could ever contribute to the edification of anything remotely resembling Videodrome is both a strenuously unnerving and uncomfortably hilarious thought – to suggest that man has ascended so far up the evolutionary echelons to succomb to his own machinations. This is what initially distinguishes Videodrome from Cronenberg’s other features, but that doesn’t necessarily admit equivocation with his other work. Videodrome is irrefutably flawed by a myriad of things. For one, the performances from the ancillary actors and actresses is enough to provoke a sour-faced wince from even the most ardent B-movie fan – for a movie that attempts to articulate so many fantastic ideas it’s more than distracting to notice the inefficacy of the material’s conduits (James Woods even comes close to gallivanting over the line of legitimate acting into the dark abyssmal depths of overacting – a territory thoroughly chartered by death-tempting daredevil Al Pacino). Another palpable distraction is the abrupt shift in tone during the last 3/4′s of the film. Radically departing from an ostensibly feasible story about control and subjugation (very Burroughsian) to the phantasmagoria of subversive reactionary terrorism and assassination (reminescent from some strange reason of the Manchurian Candidate) is a truly defiant moment. However, the way this shift was approached and executed was rather desultory and in a way embarassing. If it seems I’m being too critical of the film I apologize, but if Cronenberg would have altered any small number of things then this film would indubitably reign as the apex of his artistic achievements. However, since the film is noticeably flawed we must accept the material we’ve been given and abstain from pining about it. But despite this small failure, Videodrome is a remarkable film with an impressive commentary.

Moving on to the supplemental material is another matter entirely. Criterion usually handles extra features with a daunting proficiency and here is no exception. Videodrome is given professional treatment and features a number of arresting documentaries – one culminating the disparate talents of Mr. Cronenberg, John “I made one good film then died into self-abject torpor” Carpenter, and John Landis into a discussion of film; another documentary regales the viewer with trivia about the making of Videodrome and other Cronenbergian tidbits.

Overall, I would only suggest Videodrome to those already cognitive of Cronenberg’s particular brand of venereal horror – as I vent serious doubts that this would possibly lure in another Cronenberg fan. A film that is as undercooked as Videodrome may seem tedious, but the social commentary grants it the impunity that will keep it on video store shelves everywhere for years to come.