Twitch-O-Meter: Kurt’s MEGA-ToM! (Twitch-O-Meter turns 50, part five)

Upon looking at those 5 directors below, it seems that I have a preference for body horror and surrealism.  Oddly enough, that was actually news to me.


Shinya Tsukamoto – It has been years since my then fragile young mind you smashed by a ratty VHS copy of Testsuo.  It may even mark the transition from High School to University and just how down-right nasty a filmmaker can get when he goes all the way with things (oddly that night, back in 1994 was a double feature with Jodorowski’s El Topo, and foreign and auteur cinema beckoned from that point on).  An auteur in every sense of the word:  His films are easily recognizable, constantly mine the same themes and subjects from different angles and even when the man makes an attempt at a commercial effort, like last years Nightmare Detective, it comes out the door looking and feeling every bit a Shinya Tsukamoto film.  I have found that I like slightly more toned down (though no less insane) Tusakmoto of recent days over the cyber-punk (for lack of a better phrase).  A Snake of June and Vital are the high water marks, where the films are more delicate in their probing of the relationship between the mind and the flesh.


David Cronenberg – Our homegrown purveyor of the new flesh.  David Cronenberg is an easy segue from Tsukamoto although his films are far more clinical that his Japanese counterpart, there is nonetheless a powerful rage under the surface of the often sedate exterior.  It is rare for a director in North America to be able to evaluate sexuality in such extreme ways as Cronenberg.  Right from his early features Shivers and The Brood (even in the more conventional Rabid, he cast porn star Marilynn Chambers of Behind the Green Door fame, in the lead) he was looking at extreme ways to visualize sexuality.  The tool set made for the opening credits of Dead Ringers is enough that they need not be brought up again in that film which is more effective by what it doesn’t show.  Crash may be a make or break film for its frank sexual fetishes, but I was always fascinated by how Cronenberg used Toronto’s arterial highway system to serve as symbol for flowing blood and semen.  Countless praise has been heaped on Videodrome, but the images that stick are the two of penetration.  In films like The Fly, Spider and A History of Violence, it is always fascinating how the sex scenes tell so much of the story.  Almost completely devoid of sex, ExistenZ equates the experience to plugging and tuning out in the videogame world, while the acts of penetration in Eastern Promises are with a tattoo needle and naked blades.  The joy of watching a Cronenberg film is simply observing such a calculated lack of repressing anything thrown up on screen.


Wong Kar Wai – I definitely came late to the wkw party, discovering the director via a sweet double bill of In The Mood For Love and Chungking Express.  I don’t know whether it was the gorgeous Christopher Doyle cinematography or the romanticization of loneliness that initially sucked me in.  Ok, the cinematography that was the hook and remains an integral part of the equation here, but after devouring most of wkw’s back catalogue in a laconic frenzy (perhaps the wrong way to properly digest his laid back and deliberately paced form of cinema), it becomes quite clear that the man has been making the same film again and again for pretty much his entire career.  This is not a bad thing.  If I were to point to the best example of a reason for strip mining and going over the same ground time and again, it would be wkw.  Another striking thing is what he gets away with in the language.  I’ve always heard that in China his films are not well received due to the dialogue being too off-putting (Is corny the right word?  It’s the first one the springs to mind.) Well, it seems that his new film My Blueberry Nights is having the same effect on English speaking audiences.  Could wkw be the first film director whose films work best subtitled?


David Lynch – What is it about David Lynch?  As a surrealist art-film director, he seems to get more of the mainstream crowd into the theatre than most directors that play in that sandbox.  Is it, as Todd says, that the images of Lynch are felt more than understood?  Is it that Lynch blends terror and absurdity better than anyone working today?  Who else could pull off that musical number with Dean Stockwell and Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet, or Rebekah Del Rio lip synching Roy Orbison in Mulholland Dr.?  David Lynch makes films full throttle by intuition and externalizing personal demons, whether it be an unplanned pregnancy in Eraserhead, or in various exposés of the underbelly in the American midwest.  Who else could produce the brilliant non sequitur of Robert Loggia’s road rage incident in the middle of a noirish identity crisis?  If it seems like he is ‘winging it’ most of the time that is because he probably is.  Nobody wings it better than David Lynch.  But it is more than simply appreciating his films scene-by-scene.  They have an uncanny way of coming together, culminating more often than not into something beyond rational.


Guy Maddin – The phrase fever dream gets tossed around in the context of Winnipeg auteur Guy Maddin.  (Seriously.  Google sends back more than 10,000 hits).  One thing that all the above directors (each of them practicing their own brand of surrealism) lack is a biting sense of humour.  Effortlessly (and roughly) merging fragments of bygone cinema minutia and style with his own personal history, fears and desires, simply put, things are, more often than not, damn funny in the process.  By using his personal brand of heightened melodrama and gonzo technical aesthetic (Who else has a silent ballet version of Dracula under their belt?), it should not be possible to empathize with these characters and their absurd (often grotesque!) stories; but miracle of miracles, emotional connection is made.  Depsite layers of irony and humour, there is a certain naked exposure to the brain of the director on display with Maddin‘s films.  Currently, his preference to incorporating a live performance into his work - Brand Upon the Brain! had a live orchestra, various narrators, a castrato and foley artists; My Winnipeg featured live narration at recent festival screenings, has him further tampering with the medium and keeping the spirit of silent cinema alive and fresh.  Lastly, one should not discount the mans library of short films.  From the hilariously base Nude Caboose to the epic genius of Heart of the World (both of which are in the Twitch Video Player), he can offer something in 6 minutes or 90.  Not for everyone, certainly, Guy Maddin is a nevertheless a national treasure.

Related Links

• Joey's MEGA-ToM (part one)
• Todd's MEGA-ToM (part two)
• Ardvark's MEGA-ToM (part three)
• Collin's MEGA-ToM (part four)
• Stefan's MEGA-ToM (part six)
• Timo's MEGA-ToM (part seven)
• Peter's MEGA-ToM (part eight)
• Swarez's MEGA-ToM (part nine)
• JMaruyama's MEGA-ToM Aftershock (late submission)