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Why David Cronenberg's Montreal – in all its modernist glory – is the creepiest city in cinematic history

Par Justine Smith

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Expansive and complex, Quebec cinema is worth watching, exploring, scrutinizing, commemorating, admiring or even attacking. It should be dreamed about, discussed, worshipped and experienced to the fullest. This section will be inspired by our thematic issues as well as the zeitgeist, current events, by memories from film lovers and professionals, by the history of Quebec cinema and by the society that gives it life. It aims to be both a window onto our cinema and an open door to those who make it. Its goal? To share varied experiences of our cinema, of its artists and artisans, and open them up to the world. To link our cinema with other voices and perspectives—from inside and outside, whether they are harsh or tender, national or foreign, intimate or universal, anecdotal, historic and panoramic, but always personal.

 Claire Valade, editor Quebec Cinema section

 


:: Montreal General Hospital, 1650 Cedar Ave. (Rabid, 1977) [Dunning/Link/Reitman Productions / Cinépix Film Properties / et al.]

Between 1975 and 1981, when it was commonplace for films to hide associations with Canadian identity, David Cronenberg made three horror films that were decidedly set in Montreal [1]Shivers (1975), Rabid (1977), and Scanners (1981) made no attempt to disguise their location, taking full advantage of Montreal’s distinct modernist architecture as the backdrop for body horror apocalypses.

Shivers opens with a slideshow advertising the luxury services offered at the newly built Starliner Apartment Complex on Nun’s Island. Just 12-and-a-half minutes away from Montreal, Starliner has all you need to live: a deli, a pool and a doctor’s office. Amidst the clean lines and box-like structure of the apartment building, the inhabitants are soon terrorized by a fleshy turd-like parasite that causes an orgiastic infection.

The film was shot in a real apartment complex designed by Mies van der Rohe, the Tourelle-Sur-Rive. Considered among the pioneers of modernist architecture, Mies favoured a “skin and bones” style, which sought to redefine interior spaces by emphasizing steel structures and glass enclosures. Shivers uses this perfectly ordered space as a backdrop to horrifying acts of violence. Cronenberg frequently intercuts domesticity, such as a young couple inquiring about an apartment downstairs, with a brutal murder taking place on the upper floors. This refuge from the horrors of the city, a fully modern building that provides you with everything you need, becomes a landscape of horror all its own.


:: Starliner Towers, Tourelle-Sur-Rives, 100-200 de Gaspé St. (Shivers) [Cinépix Film Properties / DAL Productions]

The contrast between ordered space and primal instinct is a recurring theme in the works of Cronenberg. In Rabid, a young woman suffers a horrifying motorcycle accident and is treated with experimental skin graft surgery which births a rabies-like virus. Made in the shadow of the 1970 October Crisis, the film echoes the atmosphere of the era. As the disease spreads and people become increasingly violent, a Pierre Trudeau-like politician enforces martial law in the city.

Cronenberg’s preference to shoot on location means that much of the film’s action is centred around Montreal’s downtown core. Marilyn stays in a brown apartment complex on St. Mathieu, she goes to the since burned down Cinema Eve on St. Laurent and a claustrophobic scene takes place on the metro, beginning at the Guy-Concordia platform. The lines of the Montreal metro have often been likened to a circulatory system, and as such, it serves as a central travelling point for the Rabid disease.


:: Mindy Kent's apartment, 2121 St-Mathieu St. (Rabid)


:: Ève cinema, 1229 Saint-Laurent Blvd. (burned down on July 19, 1993)


:: Crémazie metro station, 505 Crémazie Blvd. East


:: Alley, downtown // Cavendish Mall, 5800 Cavendish Blvd., Côte Saint-Luc

The movie also showcases Montreal’s architecture as an extension of the body. While scenes that take place at the plastic surgery clinic revel in modernist structures of glass walls and open spaces, much of the action in the city itself are dirty and organic. Montreal seems to be made of flesh and blood, fuelled by its inhabitants. The residents, to quote Vincent de Pasciuto-Ponte, the urban planner who designed Montreal’s underground malls, serve as “the cities’ red blood cells without whom a city pales and sickens and dies of anemia.”

Cronenberg’s third and final film shot in Montreal is Scanners. In this science-fiction horror, Scanners are a group of people with telepathic powers and ConSec, a weapons corporation, is attempting to harness their powers for profit. After a renegade Scanner threatens the project, ConSec sends Cameron, another Scanner, after him.

The film opens in the Montreal underground city, in a brown food court decorated with red chrome ceilings and walls. This is our first introduction to Cameron, who has not learned to harness his powers. As he tries to escape the scene, he makes his way up a series of crisscrossing escalators. Space is used to represent chaos as endless diagonals cut up the frame, amplifying Cameron’s sense of confusion.


:: Intact Tower, 2020 Robert-Bourassa Blvd. (Scanners) [Filmplan International / Montreal Trust Company of Canada]


::ConSec Headquarters, 1000 St-Charles Avenue, Vaudreuil-Dorion

As the film moves into the ConSec headquarters, the cold brutalist architecture takes centre stage. The iconic Scanners “demonstration” scene, shot in Concordia’s DB Clarke Theatre, is set in an enclosed windowless space with fluted brown concrete walls decorated with blood-red carpets; evoking a feeling as though we’ve stepped into a futuristic womb. Much of the rest of the ConSec headquarters features modernist elements like glass partitions, open spaces and cold concrete.

More so than the two other films, Scanners uses Montreal’s modernist architecture as a means of portraying a dystopian future. As a movie about the next step in human evolution, the film treats the institutional qualities of architecture as dehumanizing. Similar elements are also featured in Cronenberg’s other films but here, they also stand firm as representations of a corporate-controlled evolutionary future.

Among Canada’s most recognized filmmakers, Cronenberg has often used his homeland as a backdrop for horror. However, no setting has established his cinematic perspective quite like Montreal. Using the city’s distinct modernist architecture, Cronenberg paints the city as a fleshy nightmare in his three Montreal movies, where just around any glass, steel or concrete corner there may reside an even darker realm of human consciousness.

 

 


[1] This article originally appeared in the National Post on October 25th, 2018

 

 

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Justine Smith is a film critic working for many periodicals, including Little White Lies, The National Post, The Globe and Mail, Roger Ebert, Hyperallergic and Cult MTL. She’s interested in both classic and contemporary cinema, with a focus on gender representation and documentary. She is also the current programmer of the Underground section at the Fantasia Film Festival. In 2015, she was inducted in the Locarno Critics Academy.

 

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Article publié le 18 juillet 2023.
 

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