The Volatility of Motherhood in David Cronenberg’s ‘The Brood’

For Cronenberg, Candy represents the symbolic order and influence of the father, precisely what Nola wishes to eradicate. Candy is supposed to come “home to mommy” and have no fatherly influence. The characters in the film are defined by rigid gender constructs, or alternatively, through their attempts at living up to them.

This guest post by Eli Lewy appears as part of our theme week on The Terror of Little Girls.

The association between women and reproductive activities is a common theme in horror films. Female genitals have been perceived as mysterious and uncanny by men during the course of Western history.  In Canadian film director David Cronenberg’s 1979 film The Brood, Nola, a wife and mother, is in a psychiatric institution where she uses Dr. Raglan’s methods of psychoplasmics to manifest her emotional and psychological troubles physically. Nola has failed in her role as a nurturing mother to her daughter Candy, and being a loving stable wife to her husband Frank, a leading cause of her psychological fragmentation. Nola’s inner rage and pain causes her to form an external womb-like sac that gives birth to evil children with whom she shares a telepathic bond. Nola’s ability to give birth parthenogenetically[1] is what constructs her as “monstrous.” Her womb, one of the primary symbols of biological womanhood, is constructed as being a volatile space filled with danger.

In The Brood, Frank, Nola’s husband, attempts to act as the protector of his daughter Candy against the evil mother, Nola.  For Cronenberg, Candy represents the symbolic order and influence of the father, precisely what Nola wishes to eradicate. Candy is supposed to come “home to mommy” and have no fatherly influence. The characters in the film are defined by rigid gender constructs, or alternatively, through their attempts at living up to them.

Frank, who has recently separated from Nola, is discriminated against in the judicial system even though his wife is far from capable of nurturing Candy. When Frank attempts to take steps against Nola and get full custody of his daughter, his lawyer plainly tells him that he has no legal rights to deny Nola of her mothering responsibilities as “the law believes in motherhood.” The filmmaker suggests that even unfit mothers are preferred over fathers. The criticism of the supposed female dominance over the realm of the family in the film is clear once the audiences realize what kind of a mother Nola really is. The horror occurs when the father is powerless, rendered irrelevant by a “monstrous” mother.

Nola is in desperate need of feeling loved and accepted by Frank, who in turn, is disgusted by her. The Brood broaches the idea of a hereditary female cycle of abuse and evil: Nola’s mother was emotionally and physically abusive toward her which, in turn, caused Nola to be abusive toward her young daughter Candy. The Brood complies with the ancient sexist notion that maternal desire is the source of monstrosity (Creed 46). Most of Dr. Raglan’s patients’ rage manifests itself in boils and lesions, unlike Nola, whose rage comes in the form of an external womb capable of birthing deformed beings. Not only is her body and mental state in shambles, she has incorporated the brood children into the mix who bring harm to others. This conveys a message that Cronenberg returns to frequently: females who dare to be aggressive and expressive destruct others. Nola’s rage is seen as something that the women in her family inherited, but there is no attempt at understanding why this has happened.

During Candy’s stay with her grandmother, she sees a picture of her mother as a child in the hospital. Nola looks a lot like Candy; in fact, she is played by the same young actress. This is the first instance in which Candy shows some sense of presence, interest, and involvement in the film as she is usually catatonic and detached. The traumatic events she has lived through are reflected in her blank stare. Candy is one of the main victims in the film; she witnesses her grandmother’s death, gets viciously beaten by the brood, and is constantly under threat.

Candy could easily be mistaken for one of the brood children with her straight blonde hair and the almost identical red parka. In fact, even her own father mistakes Candy for a brood for a fleeting second.  The brood children know that she needs to come with them to the institute; they are the same in some way. However, once Nola commands her brood to attack Candy, their blood ties no longer matter and they intend on killing Candy.

Candy getting kidnapped
Candy getting kidnapped
Candy in peril after Nola orders the brood children to kill her
Candy in peril after Nola orders the brood children to kill her

 

When Frank attempts to save the kidnapped Candy, he comes face to face with Nola for the first time in the film. A primal birthing scene ensues.  She is sitting on a platform in a regal manner. Nola questions Frank’s love for her and confidently explains that “what’s been happening to me is too strange, too strange to share with anyone from my old life.” She then proceeds to raise her arms to reveal what lies underneath her white nightgown: her external womb. The whiteness of Nola’s robe is juxtaposed with the “monstrosity” that lies beneath. The camera switches between Nola’s confident, queen-like posing and Frank’s pure and utter disgust for what his eyes are seeing.

Nola revealed
Nola revealed

 

As though the sight of this hideous sac were not enough, Nola proceeds to bend over, bite the sac, and take out her bloodied brood fetus. However, the epitome of Nola’s “freakishness” is yet to come. Nola licks away the blood and amniotic fluid, irrevocably propelling Nola to an abject being completely comfortable with her animalistic maternal instincts, reproductive functions, and disfigurement. We see all this unfold though Frank’s eyes – we are him in this scene, disgusted and disbelieving. Nola changes from human to monster. She was unaware of the fact that the brood children are murderous, but once Frank tells her she does not change her demeanor and smiles maniacally, condoning her progeny’s actions. Rage and psychoplasmics have sucked the humanity out of her. Once Frank tells her the truth, which is that he is there to take their daughter away from her, Nola coldly says, “I’d kill Candice rather than let you take her away from me.” Frank then proceeds to leap and strangle his wife to death. He begs her to make the brood children stop what they are doing to Candy, but Nola is too far gone, her humanity has been stripped away. Nola’s plea to “kill me, kill me” is masochistic; she is letting Frank give into his urge to destroy the maternal (Beard 85). Frank is full of rage while killing Nola, which is the only effective thing he does throughout the picture. However, this does not prevent Candy from being exposed to the disease; he has not saved her. We then see the boil on her arm at the end of the film, implying that Candy will carry on the dubious honor of the clan’s “female legacy.”

 


Works Cited

Beard, William. The Artist as Monster: The Cinema of David Cronenberg. Toronto: University of Toronto Press. 2006.

Creed, Barbara. The Monstrous Feminine: Film, Feminism, Psychoanalysis. London and New York: Routledge. 1993.

 


Eli Lewy is a third culture kid, burgeoning filmmaker, and Master’s student studying US Studies. She currently resides in Berlin. You can read her film review blog here: www.film-nut.tumblr.com and follow her on twitter at @scopophiliafilm


[1] Reproduction that occurs with the ovum only.

 

 

2013 Golden Globes Week: ‘The Deep Blue Sea’

Movie poster for The Deep Blue Sea, starring Rachel Weisz


This is a guest review by Eli Lewy.

Note: major spoilers!

Being passionate can make one feel like life has a purpose and is worth living but focusing solely on it can lead to destruction. Hester (Rachel Weisz) is married to an older, refined gentleman (Simon Russell Beale). When they share glances, he thinks her eyes are filled with love when in fact she is in the midst of inner turmoil. Hester is having an affair with dashing Royal Air Force pilot Freddie (Tom Hiddleston), with whom she experiences real love for the very first time. Her husband finds out about her indiscretions, and she begins to live her life with Freddie out in the open. Hester has gotten what she so desires, yet happiness is regrettably still out of reach.

Leaving her comfortable, affluent life with her husband behind, she wonders about what her father the vicar would say about her transgressions; her father who was so anchored in tradition and who felt that pining for the flesh is a sign of weakness, and perhaps more importantly, that it is more proper for men to do the loving. Hester firmly believes that Freddie is ‘the whole of life’ for her, and when she is not in his presence she is a faint shell of a human being. She spends most of her idle time staring out the window, motionless, waiting for her life to come home.

We are introduced to Hester’s volatile state of mind in the very beginning, when she reads out what first sounds like a heartfelt love letter to Freddie yet in reality is a suicide note. Hester has fallen deeply in love with a man who cannot love her the way she so desperately needs. Freddie is far too flighty and is clearly marked by the Second World War in which he served. Externally, she accepts this, keeping her cool composure, yet it drives her mad inside.

London in 1950, when The Deep Blue Sea is set, is not a lively city but one ravaged by war. The tragedy has afflicted everyone who were forced to live through it, and Hester’s romantic inclinations seem to clash with her subdued, pained environment. No one in her poised yet unnecessarily harsh surroundings seems to understand the importance of Hester’s passion — calling it ugly, unserious, and superficial. To Hester, it has given her life meaning. Her husband attempts to bargain with her, to make her see that there are more important things in life, but she is determined to choose this path, even though it may be the end of her. The notion of an adulteress suffering for her sins is ancient, yet the sheer brilliance of the characters’ inner worlds, and the beautiful acting choices made by all involved makes The Deep Blue Sea rise above the anachronistic moralistic tales. There is strength in Hester’s resolution to relentlessly love.

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Eli Lewy is a third culture kid and Masters student studying US Studies. She currently resides in Berlin. She is a movie addict and has a film blog which you can find under www.film-nut.tumblr.com.

Horror Week 2012: Top 10: Best Female-Centered Horror Films

This is a guest post from Eli Lewy.
Horror films are commonly seen as one of the most sexist film genres; utilizing the voyeuristic male gaze, objectifying the female body, and reveling in helpless women being victimized. I am not discounting these claims, but horror has the potential to be more than that: films which subvert the genre’s sexism and incorporate strong, distinct female characters do exist. Some of the films on this list are reductive and infuriating at times but they attempt to show a different side of horror and affirm that the female perspective has a place in the horror landscape. 
Ryo (Shigeharu Aoyama) is a middle-aged widower looking for a new partner. His friend convinces him that he should audition potential mates and choose who he wants. Ryo claims he is searching for someone confident, yet chooses the seemingly obedient and passive Asami (Eihi Shiina). Appearances may be deceiving. Though the film is more focused on Ryo, it is his degrading treatment of women in general that is the most important aspect of the film.

Halloween
The slasher subgenre’s first film, Halloween’s menace takes the form of Michael Myers. However, Halloween is Laurie Strode’s (Jamie Lee Curtis) story. A shy wallflower surrounded by nubile airheads, she comes into her own in the the film. While fighting for her life she realizes the strength and resourcefulness she possesses, making her horror cinema’s archetypical final girl; the girl smart enough to survive till the end of the film.

Rosemary’s Baby
Rosemary (Mia Farrow) and Guy (John Cassavetes) are a young couple who just moved into a new apartment. The neighbors are awfully nosy and Rosemary’s husband becomes more distant and patronizing. Rosemary gets pregnant under dubious circumstances and senses that something is wrong with the baby but no one will listen to her. Everyone around her believes her to be an over-sensitive and paranoid woman while she fights for autonomy over her own body.
7. Inside (aka A l’interieur)
The pregnant Sarah (Alysson Paradis) recently lost her husband in a car accident. Alone at home on one fateful night, she gets the wrong kind of visitor in the form of a homicidal woman (Beatrice Dalle). Inside is perhaps not the most empowering or progressive of films, but it is one of the most taught, suspenseful 82 minutes ever caught on celluloid.
The Craft
Nancy (Robin Tunney) moves to a new town after her mother’s death and struggles to fit in. She falls in line with a group of young women who are rumored to be witches. Nancy is, in fact, a born witch. The freaky foursome test their prowess in matters of the occult which brings them closer together. They grow stronger by the day, and negative emotions get magnified. The Craft sheds a positive light on female sisterhood and tackles female teen issues in a frank manner (an over-the-top climax notwithstanding).
Teeth
Chaste Dawn (Jess Weixler) has an inkling that she is not like most girls. Faced with violent and despicable men all around her, she may begin to use that to her advantage. Though the dangerous, castrating woman is a sexist trope, the fact that we witness Dawn’s transformation from her perspective marks a certain twist on the age-old tale.
Family man and lawyer Chris Cleek (Sean Bridges) eyes a “wild” woman (Pollyanna McIntosh) while hunting. He proceeds to confine her to his shed where he wants to “civilize” her for reasons that remain unknown. He introduces the woman to his family and Chris’s behavior becomes more bizarre and off-putting from that point onwards. The two main male characters, the father and son, are the real uninhibited beasts.
The Descent
A group of old friends go on a cave expedition; marking a new beginning after a tough year. They are all competent explorers, but are all of them good people? The cave transpires to be nothing short of a death trap, which is when loyalties, betrayals, and their true nature come to the fore.
2. Bedevilled (aka Kim Bok-nam salinsageonui jeonmal)
A young banker (Seong-won Ji) takes a (forced) vacation on the tiny, isolated island she spent some of her childhood in. Her childhood friend, Kim Bok-nam (Yeong-hie Seo) remembers her fondly and has tried to contact her through the years, to no avail. The back-breaking hard labor and the community’s overt sexism and mistreatment of Bok-nam gradually sends her over the edge. The oppressive social setting is set up so believably that it is incredibly gratifying, if distasteful, to watch its destruction.

Ginger Snaps
Brigit (Emily Perkins) and Ginger (Katherine Isabelle) are two sisters who take morbid photographs and enjoy the darker things in life. One day, their life takes a drastic turn for the worse. Ginger gets her first period, and as if dealing with her looming womanhood was not confusing enough, she gets bitten by a werewolf. It is up to Brigit to try and save her before it is too late. The obvious parallels between the respective lunar cycles and bodily transformations are effective as well as the characterization of multidimensional, troubled young women.
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Eli Lewy is a third culture kid and Masters student studying US Studies. She currently resides in Berlin. She is a movie addict and has a film blog which you can find under www.film-nut.tumblr.com

LGBTQI Week: Swoon

Daniel Schlachet and Craig Chester in Swoon

This is a guest review by Eli Lewy.

Richard Loeb (Daniel Schlachet) and Nathan Leopold (Craig Chester) are enamored with each other. Yet their life is complicated. For one thing, they are two men engaging in a homosexual libidinous relationship in the 1920s, and secondly, they are burgeoning sociopaths. Richard and Nathan desire to commit the perfect crime together and murder an innocent young boy in cold blood for sheer unadulterated thrills.
Tom Kalin’s Swoon is based on a true event, a case that has been adapted by Hitchcock in Rope and Richard Fliescher in Compulsion. However, these two films focus on the psychological makeup of the couple and the court proceedings while purposefully omitting the couple’s homosexuality. Swoon is heralded as one of New Queer Cinema’s triumphs, a film movement that arose in the early 1990s and was lead by openly gay filmmakers like Todd Haynes, Gus Van Sant, and Greg Araki. The transgressive subgenre sought to question heteronormative notions and address queer issues in an explicit way. Kalin chooses to focus on the pathologizing nature of legal and medical institutions and the anti-gay sentiments that were pervasive in the past. Swoon makes use of the transcription of the actual court case, in which it was argued that Richard and Nathan committed the heinous crime because they were deranged perverts filled with unnatural lusts. This is Kalin’s focus, and he proceeds to deconstruct society’s deeply ingrained attitudes.
Swoon’s first scene is a visual whirlwind, a collection of historical footage, gender-bending narrators, and destructive behavior. Richard and Nathan’s romance is invigorated by their petty crimes, but their goal is to take a life, an act they believe will bind them forever. The two privileged men, clearly influenced by Nietzche’s Superman theory, (which in hindsight is most troubling because the pair was Jewish) believe they are above the law and the morals which society is built on. They are constantly in search of something beyond intelligence, something they claim is more pure. Viewers spend a lot of time with the couple, both in their intimate and their despicable moments; so much so that their actions seem uncomfortably real and close.
Swoon reassesses history and the demonization of minorities by dissecting the identity politics of the 1920s, juxtaposing it with anachronistic elements belonging to a different era, like dial up telephones and remote controls. The point of this cinematic device is clear, though Swoon is set in crime-ridden Chicago of the 1920s in crisp black and white, the issues at hand are timeless. Gayness is still seen as something abnormal, an intrinsic default, by many. However, the modern-day parallel is too on the nose at times. The interspersed appearance of several drag queens falls flat, for example. In the 1920s it was unclear what was worse, being a murderer or a homosexual, and Kalin delves into this social frame of mind in a chillingly astute way.

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Eli Lewy is a third culture kid and Masters student studying US Studies. She currently resides in Berlin. She is a movie addict and has a film blog which you can find under www.film-nut.tumblr.com