"Here, liminal, suspended between floors, everything is left to imagination."
The moment I always return to isn’t one of Videodrome’s spectacular set pieces, but it is what I consider the film’s Cronenberg turn: the instant you understand that that’s what you’re watching, where the film admits its appetite for what bodies can stand and do.
Though the actors’ imperative to “use it” presumes that every feeling’s instrumental function may be clear, graspable, and harmless, there’s a well-documented dark side to improvisational energy, to working without scripts and roles; boundaries that protect as well as corral.
