Editorials
‘Polytechnique’ Is a Haunting Portrait of a Real-Life Canadian Tragedy [Maple Syrup Massacre]
Maple Syrup Massacre is an editorial series where Joe Lipsett dissects the themes, conventions and contributions of new and classic Canadian horror films. Spoilers follow…
One of the darkest moments in Canadian history happened on Dec 6, 1989: a male shooter walked into the École Polytechnique de Montréal with a semi-automatic rifle. He had written several letters outlining an anti-feminist agenda and he specifically targeted women in his shooting spree, eventually killing fourteen.
For thirty-one years, the “Montreal Massacre” was Canada’s worst shooting.
Denis Villeneuve’s 2009 film Polytechnique, co-written with Jacque Davidts, recounts the events of Dec 6. The film is shot in stark black and white and takes place partially in real time during the shooting, with time jumps and other strategic technical decisions to avoid being sensational or exploitative.
The film opens with a brief burst of violence as two women are shot in a photocopy lab by an offscreen shooter. Polytechnique then jumps back to the beginning of the day to follow three individuals: engineering student Valérie (Karine Vanasse), her classmate Jean-François (Sébastien Huberdeau) and the killer (Maxim Gaudette), who is unnamed.
When it was released, many critics compared the film to Gus Van Sant’s 2003 film about the Columbine massacre, Elephant. The comparisons make sense: both films adopt a documentary-like narrative that grounds the events in reality; they refuse easy answers about the nature of the violence; and they both adopt a non-linear timeline that reframes and refocuses events from multiple characters’ points of view.
Villeneuve was respectful of the national tragedy, not only in his decision to shoot the film in black and white (to “avoid the presence of blood on screen”), but also refusing to shoot on location at the Polytechnique. Star and producer Vanasse, who convinced Villeneuve to make the film, also spoke with the families of the murdered women to capture their story.
One of the film’s most successful creative decisions is how it eschews simple moral judgments and emotional triggers. The film was criticized upon release by some critics who wanted the killer’s psychology and history explored in greater detail; in the intervening decade, however, society’s relationship to true crime has shifted in favour of telling the victims/survivors’ stories* rather than profiling the killer. In this capacity, Villeneuve and Davidts were clearly ahead of the curve in 2009 when they refused to name the killer.
*It should be noted that the film opens with an acknowledgement that while Polytechnique is based on the Montreal Massacre, it is a work of fiction and the names of the women have been changed.
What’s fascinating about Polytechnique is how covertly it develops audience investment in its characters. Following the violence of the opening scene, the film focuses on Val and her roommate Stéphanie (Evelyne Brochu of Orphan Black) who helps her prepare for an interview. Watching Val deliberate on her choice of wardrobe, struggle to walk in heels, or warn Jean-François that she needs her notes back before class are all simple, but deeply human moments.
Vanasse’s performance is restrained, but emotive. It’s a nearly silent role, but the French Canadian actor’s deeply expressive face draws the audience’s empathy. After Val is confronted by sexist rhetoric about women (engineers) giving up their careers for family in the interview, she locks herself in the bathroom to cry. When Stéphanie asks if she got the job, Val confirms that she did; what has upset her is the suggestion that her studies, and, by extension, all her hard work, will always be scrutinized because of her sex.
The bait-and-switch reveal of why Val is crying anticipates two other significant moments of narrative subversion in the film. The first is how François – and by extension we – believe that Val has been killed with the other female engineering students. Following the shooting, Polytechnique shifts focus to follow François in the weeks afterwards before he dies by suicide.
Only after François is dead does the film return to the day of the shooting to reveal that Val survived. The second subversion is that François ends his life not because he misses Val, but out of shame for abandoning her when the killer ordered all of the men out of the classroom (this apparently occurred several times in real life as individuals struggling with survivor’s guilt took their own lives).
Is the reveal that Val not only survives, but gets a job in aeronautics and learns she’s pregnant emotionally manipulative and hopeful? Yes…but is also works to contract the explicitly gendered violence that the film is exploring and critiquing.
Polytechnique includes a voice-over of the killer’s manifesto, which espouses an anti-feminist agenda (fabricated for the film, but based on real life content). It’s startling because, as an audience, this voice over gives an extended platform to a specific breed of hatred.
On a first watch the impulse is to question why is this man’s hate being given such a prominent platform? Upon reflection, however, Polytechnique is doing so in order to address the reality of the situation head-on.
In the aftermath of the massacre, some real-life politicians and thought leaders argued that the dialogue around the shooting shouldn’t be reduced to the sex of the victims. This, of course, negates the fact that the attack was specifically on and about women: all of the victims were women and the killer deliberately let men flee without firing on them.
Villeneuve and Davidts clarify their own feelings with the reveal of the killer’s body, his blood spreading out to join the nearby pool of blood from a female victim, confirming not only that they are joined, but one and the same.
In the wake of the shooting, a federal government sub-committee on the Status of Women was created and a dialogue about violence against women swept the country. Stricter gun laws were also introduced in the Firearms Act of 1995, which included “requirements on the training of gun owners, screening of firearm applicants, 28-day waiting period on new applicants, rules concerning gun and ammunition storage, magazine capacity restrictions,” and the creation of a federal gun-registry that lasted until 2012 (and reinstated in 2018).
Each year on December 6, Canadians remember the Montreal massacre with a National Day of Remembrance and Action on Violence Against Women. Thankfully we also have Villeneuve’s gorgeous and haunting film.
I have deliberately chosen not to name the shooter, but let us never forget the fourteen women who lost their lives: Geneviève Bergeron, Hélène Colgan, Nathalie Croteau, Barbara Daigneault, Anne-Marie Edward, Maud Haviernick, Maryse Laganière, Maryse Leclair, Anne-Marie Lemay, Sonia Pelletier, Michèle Richard, Annie St-Arneault, Annie Turcotte, and Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz.
Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.
Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.
Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.
It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.
At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.
It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.
As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.
Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.
Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.
Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.
I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.
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