Cronenberg in THE DEATH OF DAVID CRONENBERG.
There’s a lot to be said about David Cronenberg. With a film career spanning over 50 years and a reputation for body horror, adapting unadaptable books, and the taboo, a lot has already been said. That’s where author and film writer Violet Lucca steps in with her debut book, Clinical Trials on bookshelves October 29.
Taking the traditional contents of a filmography book and filtering them through the ideologies of an innovative psychologist provides fans an alternative experience to the glossy, straightforward coffee table book we’ve come to expect.
Note: Due to its nature, this is a spoiler-ridden text. If you have not seen the breadth of David Cronenberg’s filmography and plan to proceed cautiously into certain sections.
The book’s structure is based mainly on the teachings of Carl Jung. For context, Jung was an influential 20th-century Swiss psychologist. He and Sigmond Freud were colleagues and friends for many years. Despite their differing viewpoints, the duo did much of the groundwork for modern-day psychology. Because of this, Freudian ideas will inherently be referenced in this text.
The underlying goal of Jung’s theories was the attainment of self through the process he called individuation, or “the process by which we can fulfill our potential to become all that we can be.” What does that mean for non-psych majors? Essentially, Jung wanted people to have a better understanding of their conscious and unconscious minds. Finding a happy balance between the two was locating the “self” and being authentic while functioning in a society.
According to Dr. Sheri Jacobson of Harley Therapy, he believed in personas, the shadow (negative traits within a person), and archetypes that were expressed through “dreams, fantasies, and hallucinations.” In other words, he encouraged serious introspection and self-awareness through a form of talk therapy, kind of like what modern therapy does today.
This is merely a baseline definition here, but Clinical Trials does give enough contextual information about these concepts to understand the analysis and arguments being made. Lucca’s take on “The Baron of Blood” is an adventurous one. She separates the text into two parts: Individuation and Psychotherapy. ‘Part One’ is the analysis of Cronenberg’s early works. ‘Part Two’ explores most of his later films.
These two parts use the individual steps of the aforementioned Jung processes as an organizational method for the text. Why all the psychological Jung stuff? In the introduction, the author notes that the psychologist frequently came up in a seminar she attended.
Most of her knowledge of Jung came from, funny enough, the Cronenberg film A Dangerous Method, which is a historical drama all about Freud and Carl Jung. She became interested in his viewpoints on schizophrenia and thought that the doctor’s theories would serve well as a lens through which to examine Cronenberg. After all, David Cronenberg’s track record is spotted with quite a few medical and social subjects.
‘Part One’ discusses the persona of David. The concept of persona in Jungian studies is dumbed down to the faces, or masks, we wear for different social interactions. This first section presents readers with a rundown of his filmmaking career, beginning with light biographical information and his college years. Without looking like an IMDB bullet list, Lucca decorates the timeline with anecdotal facts pertaining to the actual filmmaking process and its begrudging counterpart of financing and marketing.
Readers will learn about the evolution of the Canadian film industry as much as David himself. You’ll learn the extensive history of his films’ conceptions, their trials with production, and box office successes (and failures). All the while, Lucca is there reiterating the motifs and moments that formed the Cronenbergisms fans have come to recognize. This section of the book represents the most traditional aspect of a film book, in that it dissects his filmography to reveal the inner workings of filmmaking and David’s creative process.
The counterpart to persona is shadow. The shadow is the space the bad stuff inhabits. The author purports that David’s work is all shadow work, a confrontation and exploration of everything that is non-conforming. It’s here where the film analysis starts at full speed, and it begins in depth with Stereo, Crimes of the Future (1970), and Scanners.
Lucca continues down the checklist of individuation with the concept of the animus and anima. In Jungian terms, this is the unconscious feminine side of men and, conversely, the unconscious masculine side of women. The films analyzed in this portion are Cronenberg’s most sexually electric films: Dead Ringers, Naked Lunch, M. Butterfly, and Crash.
The Jung approach continues with the self. This section focuses on films that delve into themes of identity and “pose questions about the immutability and transcendent function of the self.” They include Shivers, Rabid, The Brood, and The Fly.
‘Part Two’ is titled Psychotherapy. This section aims to “show the symmetry” between early Cronenberg and the oft-misunderstood “Later Cronenberg” films. Lucca pairs these films with the four stages of Jung’s psychotherapy treatment. There is Confession, Elucidation, Education, and Transformation. Basically, admittance to a problem, explaining it, learning about it, and then fixing it.
These stages present different theories and arguments on the state of Cronenberg’s characters. They may be undergoing transformations in their psyches, denying such transformations, or figuring out how they can exist in their assigned worlds. The author suggests that most of Cronenberg’s works/characters are in one of these stages, as his themes are intrinsically of identity, illness, death, sexuality, and power.
Films discussed in this portion are A History of Violence, Eastern Promises, Cosmopolis, Maps to the Stars, A Dangerous Method, The Dead Zone, Spider, Crimes of the Future (2022), Videodrome, and eXistenZ.
A heartfelt testament to friendship and respect comes from Viggo Mortensen’s foreword. One of the few actors to work consistently with David, their professional dynamic is another fascinating addition to Clinical Trials. To round things out, Lucca interviews the longtime collaborators mentioned repeatedly during the book: production designer Carol Spier, composer Howard Shore, screenwriter Sir Christopher Hampton, producer Jeremy Thomas, and cinematographer Peter Suschitzky.
Gorgeous film stills bring the discussions to life. You’ll find soft black-and-white shots of a director in action. There are close-ups of condom prosthetics and labia-like stomach appliances. Of course, there are also wildly normal photographs of performers and some BTS moments.
Lucca chimes in with her own candid opinions on both Cronenberg’s and Jung’s works. Some are agreeable, while others are flat-out boos, mainly for the limiting views of a 1913 world. The tone is best described as passionate academic.
It does feel like a college course during certain sections, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing since the instructor is approachable. Some readers might shy away from the psychological jargon, but don’t let it scare away the cinephile in you.
There’s a treasure trove of information here, alongside engrossing theme exploration. The behind-the-scenes stories hold just as much interest as the sidebar fun facts (did you know that Cronenberg gave Martin Scorsese’s daughter a job?) The author and her researchers combed through decades’ worth of interviews and quotes to support her personal analysis while also giving readers a clearer impression of who David is (and was).
Its bulk is analysis, but the balance of biography, BTS, and the creative journey for filmmakers and screenwriters is very harmonious. The goal of a book like this is to offer fans a new perspective on his films, and it does that beautifully.
Clinical Trials is by far one of the most interesting film books out there. Anyone can look up film facts online, but Clinical Trials is almost like a guided museum experience. It’s commanding, thought-provoking, and abundant in its knowledge.
It’s a psychology lesson tucked in a must-have film book that stands apart. The stylish composition elevates it to a collector’s item, making it a must-have text on one of cinema’s most authentic directors. You can order it directly from Abrams here.
Clinical Trials is by far one of the most interesting film books out there. Anyone can look up film facts online, but Clinical Trials is almost like a guided museum experience. Some readers might shy away from the psychological jargon, but don’t let it scare away the cinephile in you.