The movie starts out with creepy music and a series of drawings of early medical experiments and torture devices on a bright red background. It is not easy to tell which is which, if there is any distinction at all. Cronenberg can set a tone like no other. ESPECIALLY in the 80's where you could expect some degree of mutation and people being taken apart in the strangest ways. Although, perhaps of all of my favorite directors, I seem to be most critical of Cronenberg's films. Maybe because he seems to always get so close to exactly what I want to see but then somehow (for me) drops the ball. Or I don't know. Maybe I'm just picky. Either way, Dead Ringers certainly has the basic idea of PERFECT MOVIE. I think maybe it wanders a little bit more than I would have liked. Feels a little unfocused and a little loosy goosey, but MAN! Cronenberg kicks thematic ass like nobodies business. He's so good at loading the screen with visual metaphors and motifs. And they are ALWAYS right up my alley too. Like a lot of Cronenberg movies, it feels slow as hell. He plays with the idea of Jeremy Irons being twins a lot, and trying to decipher who is doing what. So it's a lot of fun. The addiction part of the film feels a little repetitive, especially after he makes the AWFUL instruments, which may very well be the peak of the film, Irons being dressed in red gowns in a very religious manner, hopped up on goof balls, about to mutilate a vagina. MAN, they don't make 'em like Cronenberg anymore. And certainly not with the class that man makes 'em with.
Oh man, it's a table of Vagina Nightmares.