Videodrome

Helmed by David Cronenberg, Videodrome follows James Woods’ Max Renn as he finds himself drawn to an illegal television program that somehow rewires the brain of its viewers. It’s a decidedly oddball premise that’s employed to initially intriguing yet ultimately interminable effect by Cronenberg, as the director, working from his own screenplay, delivers a glacially-paced drama that grows weirder and weirder as it progresses and suffers from a lack of compelling characters – with Woods’ admittedly stirring work as the sleazy protagonist unable to disguise the fact that Max is, to an increasingly pronounced degree, simply not terribly interesting. And although the movie benefits from Cronenberg’s stylish approach and a proliferation of impressively disgusting bits of gore, Videodrome‘s arms-length atmosphere, perpetuated by a mostly incoherent narrative, paves the way for a second half that contains little, if anything, for the viewer to wholeheartedly connect to or embrace – which, by the time the predictable (yet still frustrating) head-scratcher of a conclusion rolls around, cements the picture’s place as a predominantly ineffective art-house shocker from a seriously erratic filmmaker.

** out of ****

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