In the near future, humans have evolved in such a way that they no longer feel pain and are unsusceptible to infectious diseases.  These developments have opened the doorway to a whole new world of body modification.  As the saying goes “surgery is the new sex.”  Saul Tenser (Viggo Mortensen) and Caprice (Léa Seydoux) are a famous performance couple who find themselves entangled in a conspiracy revolving around a young boy, Brecken (Sozos Sotiris), who was born with an evolved digestive system that allows him to consume and subsist on plastic material instead of traditional food. 

The idea of this junkyard future where humans had to adapt to survive in the increased pollution that they have generated had been festering for years in the mind of writer/director David Cronenberg whose vision, Crimes of the Future, was finally brought to screens by Neon. The handsome film caused a ruckus when it premiered at Cannes in the spring before quickly embarking on a limited theatrical release. With the promise of walkouts from the director, and reports of extended standing ovations from the press, Crimes of the Future is a unique work no matter what side of the aisle you are on, and while it might not have lived up to its hype of never before seen body horror, the themes which Cronenberg dissects make for an incredible and memorable experience all on their own. 

The veteran director reteams with Mortensen for this latest effort, and Mortensen, no spring chicken himself, has a very unusual role to fill in the framework of the narrative. Even beyond the plotting elements that inform us of Tenser’s ability to grow organs that serve no purpose, it is his interaction with the world that makes the role so confounding. Cloaked in black hiding the actor’s body and most of his face for the entirety of the 107-minute runtime, he never alienates us as an audience and maintains his magnetism on-screen even despite the layers concealing him. What is most unusual though, is that while he is one-half of the center of the film he plays a largely passive role through it all. He shuffles along from moment to moment, interaction to interaction, like a detective following clues but never quite making the first move. 

Crimes of the Future, by following this strange and calculated pacing, makes it a difficult film to fall in with quickly. Cronenberg has a lot to set up in this strange idea of the future and because of that, there is a lot of exposition throughout the film. It is incredibly wordy, and while it is not a bad thing, it does require a careful ear and full attention. The film strikes a balance between plot and thesis, and the case can be made that neither aspect finds full fruition come the end, but it all works in harmony with each other and still leaves an impact. It brings up the immediate conversation of body autonomy, with is timely as ever, in addition to hinting at the horrors that await us as we accelerate the decay of our planet. Cronenberg is not able to solve any of these woes in his film, but his insistence that we will find a way to evolve and adapt is a strange ray of hope in this dystopian premonition. 

When it comes to body horror, the film is not devoid of some gross-out sequences, though it does not rely on or feature them as prominently as one would assume. There is a clear fascination with the body as we see Tenser have his organs removed for an audience and the final arc of the film leads to a public autopsy, but Cronenberg never uses the gore solely to shock or disgust. He handles these sequences with the utmost respect and care – with intimacy – again driving home the idea that in this world, surgery is sex. To adopt that same mindset, it does make perfect sense as it is the welcoming of another person into one’s own body, and notably, all the surgeries seen in Crimes of the Future are willfully consented to. Even the public display of these surgeries falls into the logical arc of progression of the metaphor as sex sells and the body has always been an inspiration for art. In Cronenberg’s future, these performance pieces are just the new X-rated houses of the 1960s dressed up with some class and elegance. 

With Crimes of the Future, Cronenberg delivers a rusty and collapsing idea of where society is headed. It is not supercomputers and flying cars but is more akin to Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men (2006) or Bong Joon Ho’s Snowpiercer (2013) in which humanity had orchestrated its own demise and are stuck with the consequences. It is very competently made with an expert score by Howard Shore and overall production design by Carol Spier, the film presents a very clear and uniform vision of the future with deep roots in the present day. What is very nice about the film, even with its tragic revelations, is that it is not a total damnation of society. Cronenberg is not pointing the finger of blame at the audience but rather is using his fiction to state his fears of the trajectory which we are on as a species. By avoiding a lecture and treating this as if it were simply a matter of fact, Cronenberg can reach his audience easier and actually have them listen to his message that we are poisoning our planet and thereby poisoning ourselves.