David Cronenberg’s The Fly is a film that often leaves viewers with a sense of unease. While undeniably a good movie, there’s a peculiar quality to its script that warrants closer examination. This article delves into the question “Is Fly A Movie?” exploring its nuanced narrative, impactful special effects, and the curious role of a seemingly secondary character.
The Fly, released in 1986, was initially envisioned for Tim Burton but ultimately landed in the hands of David Cronenberg, who significantly rewrote the script. Starring Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis, this remake of a 1958 horror film transcends its predecessor, becoming a visceral exploration of body horror. The film’s success popularized numerous tropes within the genre.
The story follows Seth Brundle (Goldblum), a brilliant scientist working on teleportation. He enlists the help of reporter Veronica Quaife (Davis) to document his groundbreaking experiments. Their burgeoning romance coincides with Seth’s struggles to teleport living matter, resulting in a grotesquely deformed baboon. Cronenberg himself was reportedly unnerved by the baboons used in filming, remarking on their connection with Goldblum due to his size and strength. Eventually, Seth achieves a breakthrough, successfully teleporting organic material. However, a jealous rage fueled by a misunderstanding about Veronica leads him to a fateful decision.
In a drunken stupor, Seth teleports himself, unknowingly accompanied by a housefly. The teleportation system merges the two entities, initially resulting in Seth feeling incredibly powerful, akin to a superhero. He believes the process has purified him, but a horrifying transformation slowly begins. As Seth’s DNA intertwines with the fly’s, his body undergoes a gruesome metamorphosis, marked by disintegration, pus, and decay.
This graphic depiction of physical deterioration serves a deeper purpose. The gore, far from being gratuitous, symbolizes illness, disfigurement, and the inevitable process of aging. Contemporary critics like People magazine misunderstood this, dismissing the film’s visual elements as “sickening stuff.” However, the physical transformation mirrors a more insidious change within Seth’s mind, as he gradually loses his humanity.
Veronica witnesses Seth’s descent, offering support as his condition worsens. The discovery of her pregnancy with Brundlefly’s child complicates matters further, culminating in a tragic finale.
Beyond the visceral horror, The Fly showcases compelling performances, particularly from Goldblum, who meticulously studied flies for the role. The film’s groundbreaking practical effects, largely undiminished by time, and Howard Shore’s haunting score contribute to its enduring impact. Even Mel Brooks played a part, suggesting the iconic tagline “Be afraid. Be very afraid.”
Despite the film’s strengths, its script exhibits a peculiar structure. While the core narrative is solid, there’s a rambling quality to the storytelling. Cronenberg himself admitted to feeling a kinship with the script, stating, “It’s the first time I’ve read something where I thought I could have written that.” This sentiment is particularly intriguing considering the screenwriter, Charles Edward Pogue, whose other credits include less critically acclaimed films like Psycho III.
A key example of the script’s unconventional structure lies in the character of Stathis Borans (John Getz), Veronica’s ex-boyfriend and editor. Initially portrayed as a manipulative and jealous antagonist, Stathis undergoes a significant, albeit undramatized, transformation into a heroic figure. He acts as the catalyst for numerous plot points, including Seth’s fateful teleportation and Veronica’s eventual confrontation with Brundlefly.
Stathis’s influence is undeniable: he introduces Seth and Veronica, inadvertently triggers Seth’s transformation, and ultimately saves Veronica. Despite his pivotal role, he remains a strangely underdeveloped character, his motivations often obscured. Cronenberg envisioned a love triangle at the heart of the film, yet Stathis’s presence feels diminished.
This peculiar handling of Stathis results in a film with a subtly formless quality. While this unintentionally complements the movie’s gritty realism, it ultimately feels like a missed opportunity. The script, a blend of a novice writer’s initial draft and Cronenberg’s revisions, possesses a unique, albeit somewhat accidental, structure.
In conclusion, is Fly a movie? Absolutely. It’s a complex and disturbing masterpiece of body horror that continues to resonate with audiences. While its script may exhibit unconventional characteristics, The Fly remains a testament to Cronenberg’s visionary filmmaking and Goldblum’s captivating performance. The film’s enduring legacy solidifies its place as a significant work in the horror genre.
