Wednesday, 2 July 2014


"I had a very disturbing dream last night. In this dream I found myself making love to a strange man. Only I'm having trouble you see, because he's old... and dying... and he smells bad, and I find him repulsive. But then he tells me that everything is erotic, that everything is sexual. You know what I mean? He tells me that even old flesh is erotic flesh. That disease is the love of two alien kinds of creatures for each other. That even dying is an act of eroticism. That talking is sexual. That breathing is sexual. That even to physically exist is sexual. And I believe him, and we make love beautifully."

Oh. You're back. That's a shame. You have my sympathy... but let's face facts, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you voluntarily exposed yourself to the Cronenberg Signal. You thought the tumor had gone away? That you were in remission? Poor, naive fool. I'm afraid that your neoplasm has metastasized again. No, not to other organs. It's too late to salvage any of that. Way too late. Your Flesh was corrupted long ago, decayed beyond repair. Beyond recognition. No, I'm afraid the disease is done with your Flesh, and the way that it's metastasizing now is more destructive than ever.

You see, it appears to have spread to your thoughts now.

The trick is not to think of it as dying. Just try to think of it as a kind of transformation. I'm sorry, what was that? Will it hurt? Oh, yes. Yes I'm afraid it will.

My first Dispatch in four years can mean only one thing. Some new celluloid Flesh from David Cronenberg. This short, entitled The Nest and featuring the auteur himself as a deranged surgeon, was created as a tie-in to his new novel Consumed, and it's classic body horror era Cronenberg. 

All the elements are present: corrupted science, sexual parasites, coldly detached eroticism, insects and disease. A cool little throwback to the director's horror roots as we await the release of his next feature, Maps to the Stars.

No comments:

Post a comment