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David Cronenberg’s ‘The Fly’ Continues to Make a Strong Pro-Remake Argument [Revenge of the Remakes]

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The Fly remake

David Cronenberg‘s The Fly (1986) upholds a storied tradition of 80s remakes reinventing classic horrors through emblematic practical effects. John Carpenter’s The Thing (1982) and Chuck Russell’s The Blob (1988) both embrace the spectacle of SFX advancement to build a better goopy mass or parasitic entity. Kurt Neumann‘s 1958 iteration of The Fly, co-starring Vincent Price, attempted an insectoid transformation before any of the tricks and practices that’d win Chris Walas an Academy Award for his “Brundlefly” monstrosity. There’s an old-school Hollywood allure to Ben Nye‘s 20-pound fly head in Keumann’s science-fiction mystery. Still, everyone involved with the remake saw an opportunity to pay homage and evolve The Fly into something eternally horrific. The ultimate reasoning for remake motivations: new technology after decades pass.

Any aughts-era bias against horror remakes is peculiar when you consider how the 80s were just as predominantly centered on remakes, albeit pulling from earlier source generations. There’s no difference between Platinum Dunes plucking Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees into the next millennium when studios in the 80s set their sights on retelling 50s and 60s black-and-white terrors. Where does a person with their Brundlefly tattoo get off outcrying about 2000s teens supporting their update of Friday the 13th? Remake gatekeepers are the silliest complainers, made evident by Cronenberg’s buzzworthy all-timer that broke the Oscar’s anti-horror “bias.” Walas’ reinvention of Nye’s creature is one of the genre’s glistening pro-remake arguments, not to mention the entire production’s vastly altered narrative.


The Approach

Comparisons between Kurt Neumann’s and David Cronenberg’s The Fly are nonexistent. George Langelaan‘s short literature serves as the starting point for both — executions range from original writer James Clavell‘s research journal detective debacle to Cronenberg’s shared screenplay credit churning out a Kafkaesque metamorphosis with creature-feature structures. André Delambre (David Hedison) is a family man reminiscent of 50s Pleasantville stereotypes who protects those around him from his instant swapping of fly head and hand — most of the bygone film revolves around his wife Hélène (Patricia Owens) trying to locate a white-headed fly as evidence. There’s little horror outside the now-infamous “Help me!” squeals from a human-headed fly (achieved through photographic projection) before a spider (puppet) feasts on its insides.

Cronenberg’s reinvention — starting with the pages of ​​Charles Edward Pogue‘s first draft that Cronenberg himself demanded be honored through Pogue’s co-writer credit — is vastly more beastly. Jeff Goldblum plays the brilliant Seth Brundle, working out of a converted Toronto warehouse apartment as a freelance inventor. He persuades journalist Veronica “Ronnie” Quaife (Geena Davis) with the promise of a revolutionary device to vanquish his motion sickness. Brundle reveals what he dubs “Telepods,” two teleportation chambers (modeled after Ducati cylinders and cylinder-heads). Veronica flirtatiously removes one of her knee-high stockings so Brundle can demonstrate — it later works on a baboon. With trials moving swiftly forward, as rapidly as his relationship with Veronica, Brundle indulges an impulse decision fueled by jealousy and champagne to accelerate human tests by unknowingly hopping inside with a common house pest.

The Fly remake rebirths with all of Cronenberg’s goopy-sexual, body-horror signatures that couldn’t be any further from the sitcom wholesomeness of Neumann’s curiosity. André protects Hélène from his deformation except for one tussle under the hydraulic press to show the fly’s psychological takeover — Seth becomes a fornication machine energized by sugary snacks who allows his spliced genetics to define his personality. Physical variations are noticeable given how André emerges from his “Disintegrator Integrator” device looking like Baxter Stockman from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (evident reverse influence) while Seth indulges Cronenberg’s pustulating, finger-nail pulling, flesh-shedding transformation over time. The mental aspects unlock Jeff Goldblum’s distancing from David Hedison’s valiant patriarch — Seth is unstable, feral, and sees his new DNA as transcendence. There are no parallels to draw.


Does It Work?

I hope you’ll allow a brief repetition of my justifications throughout this column’s previous analysis of The Blob — developments in the profession of special effects necessitate remakes. Perhaps even tied to budget allowances. The Fly is a remarkable milestone for 50s cinematic achievements between André’s weighty prosthetics and Whitehead’s demise. However, Chris Walas’ progression of sticky suits, wriggly animatronics, and makeup oversight are still heralded by even today’s SFX standards. The multiple stages of Jeff Goldblum’s “Brundlefly” are complete with decomposition, peel-off appendages, and an acidic vomit that melts victim’s… anything. Walas’ accomplishments aren’t a slight against Ben Nye’s wizardry at the time, merely another film with the same ambitions of pushing practical effects boundaries as far as inhumanly possible. “Brundlefly” should be the only retort to questions about why remakes are a continued tradition.

From a visionary perspective, David Cronenberg proves another stellar remake point — filmmakers with distinct styles help individualize remakes. Cronenberg’s secretion-slimy, disgustingly decadent portrayal of mad scientist madness is almost like Frankenstein where Goldblum plays both doctor and monster. It’s as Cronenberg as Cronenberg World from Rick And Morty, down to multiple sex breaks that feature Goldbum’s gyrating rump or breathing perversions of imagination that slither from plasma pools. It’s a remake that distances itself like Robert Muldoon driving away from the T-Rex in Jurassic Park. Even if you’ve seen 1958’s The Fly, there’s no predictability beyond introducing a fly-man hybrid at some benchmark. Geena Davis is the anti-Hélène as her romance morphs into something dangerously ugly, saddled with a pregnancy she demands to terminate, as she aims a shotgun at the heartbreaking abomination that once brought so much love and joy knowing what must be done.

The one questionable diversion in Cronenberg’s The Fly remake is Stathis Borans, played by John Getz. He’s Veronica’s confidant — and stalker ex-boyfriend who refuses to return her extra key? Stathis is an A+ creeper who also worries about Veronica, whether that’s him already being in her apartment when she returns from Seth’s or at work, where he’s her publication boss. Cronenberg reportedly fused two characters from Charles Edward Pogue’s draft — a best friend character Harry Chandler, and greedy corporate villain type Phillip DeWitt — into this union of friend and foe who has his moments but also unpleasant encounters. The ex who never leaves; the acquaintance who genuinely fears for your life. In the context of a practical effects showcase? Some might glance over Stathis’ odd traits. Others won’t.


The Result

The Fly remake 80s

I’ll let Chris Walas’ golden statue lead my argument — The Fly remake belongs up there with The Blob, The Thing, and many other 80s displays of championship practical effects. Brundlefly’s many iterations all execute their desired reactions from cringes when Veronica attempts to “shave” thick fly hairs betwixt split wounds to the final abhorrent fusion of insect-man and machine. David Cronenberg’s taste for alluring visual provocation has taken many forms, few as iconic as Brundlefly. What do you want me to say that hasn’t already been described in precise detail by horror scholars for decades? The result of Brundlefly is everything from astounding to ghoulish to vital among seventy-thousand other descriptors.

Jeff Goldblum’s performance embraces the Goldblum we know — you don’t hire Goldblum to play your character; said character becomes Jeff Goldblum. In the case of Seth Brundle, the impish mannerisms of a thinker who traded social skills for further braininess become eccentric comforts. Goldblum’s extreme gesticulation from his dart-all-day eyes to the outreach and grasp-at-air of a hand all delight, but his ability to monologue about complex science fiction terminology without blinking sells Seth Brundle. There’s a precise moment where Goldblum goes out-of-body as Seth preaches his teleportation aura as this new religion, something about the pierce past “new flesh” and baptism of plasmatic ponds, representing divine Goldblum theatrics. I can only imagine producer Mel Brooks chuckling to himself after watching the take, knowing the madness capable between Cronenberg and Goldblum. Look no further than Seth’s tipsy confession to his baboon assistant — complete with an apology for inside-outing his brother.

Cronenberg never besmirches Kurt Neumann nor his original film — there are loving odes littered throughout bugification. Veronica asks Seth earlier into their relationship why he’s always wearing the same suit-jacket outfit, a possible poke at André since Neumann’s protagonist always dons the same dapper scientist getup day after day in flashbacks (explained away by Seth as Einstein’s theory of expending energy elsewhere). There isn’t a battle for supremacy between films. They exist as footnotes in horror history that encapsulate the creativity of their times, both experimental in theme and nature. The ’50s get their abstract whodunit with an added Vincent Price bonus — gotta love “fly vision” and the over-dramatization that is André confronting his molecular fate — while the ’80s produce another testament to the longevity of practical models and molds filled with grotesque nightmare figments.


The Lesson

The Fly remake cronenberg

Check to make sure your favorite nostalgia title isn’t a remake before you start criticizing teenagers for Friday the 13th (2009) being their entry to a staple horror franchise. Opposing remake arguments often whine about how remakes are devoid of originality, yet David Cronenberg splices together one of the most noticeably unique 80s horror standouts with The Fly. There’s no copycat desire or recycled highlights. Not even when it comes to Kurt Neumann’s finale, arguably the shockwave moment that fans would lose their proverbial shit over when spider devours man before a moral-justice discussion about killing out of mercy. Cronenberg doesn’t glide behind Neumann’s jetstream for a single second, adaptation or not. The Fly is anything but artistically bankrupt, and I sure as hell don’t remember any larva abortion sequence in black-and-white.

So what did we learn?

  • Don’t watch The Fly during a meal unless it’s the 1958 version.
  • 1980s practical effects are a gift that forever gives — Brundlefly is no exception.
  • Jeff Goldblum and David Cronenberg are the epitome of singular talents and showcase how irreplicable personalities can drive remakes down their own paths.
  • I have another new favorite 80s horror film to add to the list.

Cronenberg and Kurt Neumann elope as one of the oddest couples in original/remake canon. The 1958 version loses me in parts as tension and thrills revolve around a remarkably unfazed boy somehow cucumber-cool about his family’s disintegration, just skipping around with a bug net. There are some hilarious lines delivered by child actor Charles Herbert when the tiny rascal drops “women, right?” jokes like he’s a 90s stand-up comic, but it’s a largely unbalanced fly hunt otherwise. Cronenberg’s 80s respawn has its share of questionable plot tactics — again, Stathis’ hero moment is an interesting choice for a possessive ex — but those pustulating, yucky-terrific effects are the antidote that cures all conceptual iffiness. I’m not sure how either exists, yet horror cinema is a better place with both species.


In Revenge of the Remakes, columnist Matt Donato takes us on a journey through the world of horror remakes. We all complain about Hollywood’s lack of originality whenever studios announce new remakes, reboots, and reimaginings, but the reality? Far more positive examples of refurbished classics and updated legacies exist than you’re willing to remember (or admit). The good, the bad, the unnecessary – Matt’s recounting them all.

Editorials

The 10 Scariest Moments in the ‘Ghostbusters’ Movie Franchise

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WARNING: The following contains mild spoilers for the Ghostbusters franchise. 

Yes, Ghostbusters is a horror movie – gateway horror to be exact. Setting aside the fact that the title literally contains the word “ghost,” a foundational element of the scariest genre, the franchise follows a group of paranormal researchers who battle entities attacking from beyond the grave. After countless rewatches, the classic films and newer sequels may not scare us much anymore, but how many times have we as genre fans asserted that a film does not have to be “scary” to be considered horror?

Genre classification is nebulous and any film that centers on ghosts has a place in the sprawling house of horror. Yes, it’s true that most viewers over the age of thirteen will find more to laugh about than scream while watching a Ghostbusters film, but each entry contains a handful of terrifying moments. With Gil Kenan’s Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire uniting three generations of the parascientific warriors, perhaps it’s time to highlight the most frightening moments from each phase of this legendary franchise. 


Ghostbusters (1984)

A Haunted Library

scariest Ghostbusters movie

Ivan Reitman’s original film begins with a campfire tale come to life. We follow an unsuspecting librarian as she ventures deep into the stacks to reshelve a book. With her hair blowing from a spectral breeze, we watch a hardcover float across the aisle to the opposite shelf. A second book follows, but the librarian remains unaware. She finally notices the disturbance when card catalog drawers open on their own spewing cards into the air like literary geysers. She flees through the maze of narrow stacks only to come face to face with a mysterious force who blows her back with a powerful roar. We won’t see the Library Ghost (Ruth Oliver) until a later scene, but this introduction firmly positions the film that follows in the world of horror. On first watch, we can only speculate as to the ghost’s malevolence and whether or not the librarian has survived the encounter. It’s the perfect introduction to a world in which ghosts are not only real, they will pounce on unsuspecting humans at the drop of a … book. 

Shaky Ground

The original finale may not be the film’s most terrifying moment, but it has become the franchise’s most iconic image. When faced with choosing a form for Gozer (Slavitza Jovan), Ray Stantz (Dan Aykroyd) inadvertently conjures up an image from his childhood. Moments later, a set of once-cheery eyes peer through the skyscrapers. The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man towers over the city, stomping and destroying everything in its path. While there’s definitely something terrifying about a jovial mascot turned deadly killer, what happens moments before is arguably scarier. 

The Ghostbusters arrive at the luxury apartment building to throngs of adoring fans. Peter Venkman (Bill Murray) plays into this hero-worship and promises an easy solution to a supernatural problem. But before they can enter the building, lightning strikes the upper floors sending massive chunks of brick and cement raining down on the barricaded street. The ground begins to shake and a giant fissure swallows the entire team. It’s a destabilizing moment made all the more terrifying by its shocking reality. Speculation about the existence of ghosts may vary from person to person, but there’s no doubt that sinkholes are very real. It’s entirely possible that the ground we’re standing on right now could spontaneously begin to crumble, sucking us down into a seemingly bottomless void beneath the earth. 


Ghostbusters II (1989)

Runaway Baby

Ivan Reitman’s sequel begins with a sly update on the life of a beloved character as Dana Barrett (Sigourney Weaver) pushes a baby carriage containing her infant son Oscar (Henry and William Deutschendorf). When last we saw the attractive cellist, she was kissing Venkman in the wreckage of Gozer’s demise and the thought of this loveable lady’s man becoming a father may be more nerve-wracking than anything contained in the first film. We never learn much about Oscar’s real father, but we do discover that fate has a sinister plan for the adorable child. While Dana chats with her landlord, Oscar’s carriage rolls a few feet away. Dana reaches for the handle, but the buggy begins speeding down the sidewalk careening through the busy crowds. As if guided by unseen hands, the carriage twists and turns, then abruptly swerves into oncoming traffic. Cars honk and veer out of the way, but the racing carriage marks a collision course with an approaching bus. The wheels screech to a halt moments before what would surely be a deadly crash and Dana rushes to embrace her vulnerable child. This harrowing scene is likely to terrorize any parent who’s experienced the fear of trying to protect a baby in an unpredictable world.  

Sewer Screams

scariest Ghostbusters scene

While investigating the second film’s primary villain, Vigo the Carpathian (Wilhelm von Homburg), three of the Ghostbusters venture into the sewers hoping to find a growing river of slime. Ray, Winston (Ernie Hudson), and Egon (Harold Ramis) trek down an abandoned subway line while speculating about the hordes of cockroaches and rats they hear scurrying behind the walls. These vermin may be scary, but there are more malevolent monsters lurking in the dark. Ray and Egon both amuse themselves with the tunnel’s echo but Winston’s “hello” goes unanswered. Moments later, a demonic voice bellows his name from the dark end of the corridor. Waiting behind him is a severed head floating in the empty tunnel. As he tries to retreat, the team finds themselves surrounded by dozens of ghoulish heads that disappear faster than they materialized. Moments later, a ghostly train hurtles towards them, swallowing Winston in its spectral glow. Egon theorizes that something is trying to keep them from reaching their destination with effective scares designed to frighten the Ghostbusters and audience alike.  


Ghostbusters (2016)

Haunted Basement

Like its predecessor, Paul Feig’s remake opens with a spooky vignette. Garrett (Zach Woods) gives a tour of the Aldridge Mansion, a 19th century manor preserved in the middle of the busy city, and walks visitors through a troubling history of excess and cruelty. Hoping to inject a bit of excitement, he pauses near the basement door and tells the horrifying story of Gertrude Aldridge (Bess Rous), a wealthy heiress who murdered the house’s many servants. Hoping to avoid a public scandal, her family locked her in the basement and her restless spirit can still be heard trying to escape. Garrett triggers a trick candlestick to fly off the shelf, hinting at the spirit’s presence, but a late night incident shows that the deceased murderess may actually be lurking in her ancestral home. While closing up for the night, Garrett hears ominous noises from behind the barricaded door and watches the knob rattle against the heavy locks. An unseen attacker hurls him through the house and eventually drives him down the basement stairs to a sea of green slime pooling on the floor. The stairs crumble leaving the tour guide hanging on to the door frame for dear life as a spectral figure glides toward him with menacing hands outstretched. Once again, we won’t see the fully revealed ghost of Gertrude Aldridge until later in the film, but this terrifying opening sets the stage for a dangerous showdown with an army of the dead.

Mannequin On the Move

The scariest moment of the 2016 remake is arguably the vicious online hatred sparked well before the film’s release. In response to brutal comments posted to the first official trailer, the cast returned to film an additional scene in which they react to dehumanizing negativity. But another sequence may cut closer to the heart of this upsetting experience. The Ghostbusters respond to a call at a concert venue and split up to cover more ground. Patty (Leslie Jones) enters what she calls a “room full of nightmares” and immediately reverses course to avoid a multitude of mannequins stacked haphazardly in the dark. As she walks out the door, one of the faceless creatures turns its head her way. Walking on its own, this sentient prop follows her down the hall, pausing the moment she turns around. Eventually breaking cover, the mannequin chases Patty down the hall to the rest of the team. They unleash their proton packs and make quick work of the gargoyle-like ghost. Though this connection is surely unintentional, it’s a terrifying parallel to a faceless monster sneaking up to attack a woman simply trying to do her job. 


Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Smoke and Monsters

While Ghostbusters: Afterlife is nowhere near as scary as the horror films playing in the local summer school science class, Jason Reitman’s legacyquel does contain its share of frights. The film opens with a harrowing scene as we join Egon (Oliver Cooper) in the last moments of his life. Racing away from a sinister mountain, Egon’s truck collides with an unseen force and flips upside down in a field of corn. The elderly scientist races back to his crumbling farmhouse with a trap in hand, intent on ensnaring this invisible being. Unfortunately, the power fails and Egon has no choice but to hide the trap under the floorboards and wait. He sits in a comfortable old chair as a horrifying cloud of smoke drifts in behind him, momentarily forming the shape of a fanged beast. Demonic hands grab him from within the chair, likely causing the heart attack that will be listed on his death certificate. But his abandoned PKE meter below the chair activates, reminding us that Egon may be deceased, but he is far from gone.  

The Terror Returns

scariest Ghostbusters moments

Ghostbusters: Afterlife turns out to be a touching tribute to Harold Ramis as his friends and family unite to complete the beloved scientist’s heroic mission. In addition to a tearjerker ending, Reitman also includes a bevy of callbacks to the original film. Not only do the Spenglers square off against the team’s first enemy, Gozer (Emma Portner), the nonbinary entity brings back the Terror Dogs that once possessed Dana Barret and Louis Tully (Rick Moranis). These demonic beasts first rear their ugly heads while Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) stops by Walmart to buy a midnight snack. While the horde of mini marshmallow men are eerie in their gleeful self-destruction, the ghostly canine that chases him through the store is the stuff of nightmares. Early iterations of this fearsome creature are hindered by ’80s-era special effects, but Reitman’s version feels frighteningly real. While Gary frantically tries to find his keys, this Terror Dog snarls at him from atop his car dashboard, leaving the endearing science teacher with no way to escape. 


Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire (2024)

Frozen Dinner 

After a film set in a small mountain town, the opening of Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire takes us back to New York circa 1904. We see the fire station in its early years as a horse-drawn carriage responds to a call. Arriving at the scene, a fireman tests the door for heat and watches in horror as his hand instantly freezes. Inside, they find jagged shards of ice surrounding and piercing a frozen dinner party. Guests are posed in various states of ice-covered surprise while an eerie record skips in the corner. A figure covered in brass armor we will come to know as a Fire Master is crouched in the corner clutching a mysterious orb. When the fireman touches this rippling sphere, the frozen diners’ heads begin to explode, an ominous precursor to the chilling threat awaiting the newest Ghostbusting team. 

Lights Out

If Ghostbusters: Afterlife featured the lo-fi gear of the 80s, Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire hurls us into the future. Wealthy financier Winston Zeddemore has been surreptitiously building a new containment unit to relieve pressure on the original model along with a secret lab designed to study ghosts and haunted objects. In addition to fancy new gadgets and gear, this facility contains several captured spirits like a fanged Wraith and a speedy Possessor. Lab techs assure the astonished Spengler team that they are perfectly safe, but it seems they’ve overestimated the facility’s security. Lucky (Celeste O’Connor) and Lars (James Acaster) are studying the aforementioned orb when the power goes out, leaving them stranded in the dark with a cache of haunted objects. Not only does the ancient sphere hold a deadly spirit, the proton fields containing the captured ghosts have just been disabled. These terrifying creatures begin to drift through the walls toward the defenseless lab techs, perhaps at the bidding of an evil commander. Thankfully the generator kicks on in the nick of time, drawing the ghosts back into their cells. It’s a tense moment reminding us that no matter how charming the Ghostbusters may be, they still spend their days with evil spirits just waiting for an opportunity to wreak havoc.  


The Ghostbusters franchise excels at mixing humor and fear, practically setting the blueprint for the modern horror comedy. Moments from the original two films terrified a generation of gen-xers and elder millennials and newer iterations are currently scaring their kids. The fifth franchise installment effectively passes the proton pack torch to a new generation of Ghostbusters and we can only hope additional films will continue to induct future generations of Ghostbusters fans into the horror family as well. 

Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire is now playing in theaters. Read our review.

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