BY DARREN ALLISON
In
the 1982 cult film “Videodromeâ€, James Woods plays a low life television
programmer named Max Renn. His
television station, Civix TV, Channel 83, televises adult programmes such as
softcore pornography over the airwaves. Alongside
his partner, a satellite pirate named Harlan (Peter Dvorsky), Renn scans the
airwaves for decidedly dodgy shows to broadcast on his station. Harlan discovers a noise-shrouded broadcast lasting
less than a minute that takes place in a sordid room. The footage contains convincingly
realistic sadomasochism and possibly a murder. Renn is drawn to the material and immediately starts to investigate in
order to secure the broadcasting of this edgy program called Videodrome. It is during this time that Renn attends a TV
debate on a talk show, where he meets fellow guest and radio personality Nicki
Brand (Deborah Harry). The couple date and Renn soon discovers that Brand is
something of a sadomasochist and is further more turned on by the idea of
Videodrome. Renn however, is growing more frustrated in
locating the source of the programme and is eventually advised by his agent to drop
the project. Additional clips are
located by Harlan that continues to feed more into Renn’s growing curiosity. He
continues to search for the people behind Videodrome until his path leads him
to an encounter with a curious personality known as Brian O’Blivion (Jack
Creley). From here on, David
Cronenberg’s intriguing film takes a very psychological and disturbing turn. Soon
after, Renn begins experiencing headaches and strange hallucinating effects
that are the result of Videodrome’s hidden signal.
Combining
the bio-horror elements of his earlier films whilst anticipating the
technological themes of his later work, “Videodrome†exemplifies Cronenberg’s
extraordinary talent for making both visceral and cerebral cinema. Cronenberg has been hailed by contemporaries
such as John Carpenter, who insists “he’s better than all of us combined†and
Martin Scorsese as a genius. “Videodrome†was Cronenberg’s most mature work to
date and is still regarded as a cult classic.
James
Woods shines in his role of Max Renn, and Debbie Harry turns in a convincing
and confident performance, almost as if she had a point to prove. Whilst the
story shows it age in terms of technology (with Betamax tapes and 4:3 TV’s all
over the place), it also provides a dark and disturbingly accurate account of
what was also to come.
UK
fans of “Videodrome†will be delighted with Arrow’s new presentation. Its
previous release (by Universal) was largely disappointing, not only because of
picture issues (it was also a cut version), but also because of its failure to
deliver in terms of bonus material, which was zero. This time around Arrow have
used the same Criterion master (approved by director David Cronenberg and
cinematographer Mark Irwin) as its source and in the process, the picture is
vastly better. There is no longer evidence of an over sharpened image and as a
result there is a much smoother, pure, high definition presentation. This
master also offers a correct frame ratio and colour definition is much more
vivid, yet stable. Universal’s previous Blu-ray release suffered considerably
from the reproduction of reds and blues in particular. Strong, deep blacks have
also helped to improve some of the darker scenes without compromising any of
the film’s finer details. The film also benefits from just the right amount of
grain and never looks overly defined.
Arrow’s
audio consists of one standard track (in English LPCM 1.0.) but the clarity
remains sharp throughout and really brings to the fore Howard Shore's wonderfully
atmospheric score.
Overall,
I find it hard to perceive how anything can possibly topple this defining
collection. It is by far, the finest transfer (I have yet to see) of what some
fans describe as Cronenberg’s finest hour.