My First Time … Watching ‘The Fly’: “Science, Whoopsie Daisies!”

There’s something particularly apt about watching David Cronenberg‘s The Fly, a now-classic reimagining of the tame 1958 sci-fi film starring Vincent Price (amped up for the more daring ’80s as a psychosexual body-horror romp), on a day when you feel like your own body — and the outside elements — is betraying you with a seasonal cold. As I popped store-brand cold medication, worried about how much acetaminophen my liver could take, and a variety of fluids dripped out of my face and only made me want to rip off my own head, which felt as if someone had opened it and dumped a can of garbage inside, I couldn’t help but feel a bit resentful of Seth Brundle (played by Jeff Goldblum) as he made the transformation into a giant insect. He, of course, turned into a disgusting and monstrous being — looking exactly as I felt. But at least he could walk on the ceiling and his vomit had the power to liquidate the body parts of his enemies. Meanwhile, I could barely sit up straight. It didn’t seem fair!

The Fly probably gets its premise from that famous short story by Franz Kafka which sees its protagonist transformed, without reason, into a giant, grotesque bug. The difference between the film and Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis,” of course, is that we know why Brundle undergoes his transformation from the onset. Working within the budding world of teleportation, which sees the scientist transporting objects (ladies’ stockings, steaks, and baboons — all with moderate success) from one massive metal chamber to another, Brundle, like many enterprising inventors before him, tries out his own invention. Only, whoops: a fly happens to get into the chamber with him at just the right moment, leaving the two beings fused as one.

One of the things that frustrates me about The Fly is that it’s the kind of movie populated by people who are presumably a lot smarter than me. I am a blogger, not a scientist — or even a science reporter for a venue like Particle Magazine, which is where Brundle’s love interest, Veronica Quaife (played by Geena Davis), is staffed and tasked with writing a story about his new technical marvel. As per every Hollywood film that sees a young female reporter chasing down a story, Veronica falls for her subject and they begin an affair, which really annoys her boss, Stathis Borans (the fuck with these names?), who has the tendency to show up in her apartment and wait for her in her shower while she’s out boning the nerdy scientist. She also rocks a mean beret.

After Brundle goes through his contraption and begins to express low-level manic tendencies (and one hell of a sugar craving), nobody seems to think anything is odd. I mean, he did happen to teleport himself a dozen or so feet in device that just weeks before turned one of his pet baboons into a steaming, bloody heap. Sure, no one might ask the question, “Hey, is it possible that a fly got into the chamber and now you’re turning into a fly-human amalgamation?” But might an eyebrow raise when the lithe, delicate Seth Brundle begins snapping a stranger’s wrist in a bar-room arm-wrestling match?

The movie, of course, doesn’t want me to ask those questions, and my leaking face doesn’t either. Instead, I’ll focus on the Brundle’s transformation from ordinary gangly scientist to hulking fly-man.

First, he can’t handle the tender touch of a woman — a real-life ’80s chick named TAWNY, with high-cut panties, a bedazzled denim jacket, and massively crimped hair! — when she tries to give him a back rub.

Then, there’s the mucous ejections. Hate that, don’t you? (Feel you, Brundle.)

Do flies have ears? They’re certainly in no need for human ones.

Of course, there’s the ability to clasp onto flat surfaces and walk with one’s hands.

And finally: superhuman strength that allows you to break through glass walls to abduct the woman you love and prevent her from aborting your child (more on that in a second).

I mean, poor Veronica. Never in a movie has one woman gotten the short end of every stick. On the one hand, she has to deal with her creepy boss, whose sexual harassment reaches comedic levels (he basically says — I paraphrase here — “Hey, it sucks the man you love is turning into a fly, but considering that, wanna be fuck-buddies?”). And on the other hand: the man she loves is turning into a fly. It’s bad enough that he’s become a fuckmachine whose attempts to pound away at her for hours are only put on hold so he can nibble away on a Toblerone (this Brundlefly has champagne tastes!), but then to get her pregnant and incept her with nightmares of birthing squirming maggots?

You need to get outta there, girl. He’s never going to love you as much as that baboon.

But a solid first step to getting over it? Shooting that damn Brundle.

I can only imagine the therapy involved to ease the trauma of murdering your boyfriend after he’s metamorphosed into a giant insect, left you pregnant with what will likely be a half-human, half-insect baby, and having to deal with your creepy boss who suddenly is without a hand and a foot thanks to your aforementioned flyfriend burning them off with his spit. That’s a lot to deal with, the kind of thing that Sudafed won’t fix. But if there’s one thing I learned from The Fly, it’s that Tylenol Cold & Sinus does little to relieve an illness that makes you feel like your own body is falling apart. You gotta go with the good stuff (i.e. over-the-counter medication that you can use to make meth). Oh, and don’t fuck with science: why teleport across the room when you can, you know, just walk over there?

 

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Photos: 20th Century Fox