1988 twin movie
Rating: 15/20
Plot: Twin gynecologists have this great system worked out where the more extroverted one finds women and has a sexual relationship with them before growing tired of them and passing them onto the introverted one. It works great until an actress comes along and not only finds out what they’re doing but becomes the object of one of the twin’s obsession.
In my head, I always think that Cronenberg’s movies are too bleak. And then I think, “Wait a second! A lot of my favorite movies are pretty freakin’ bleak!” So I don’t know if it’s the bleakness that turns me off. This one is as bleak as the others, and it’s also cold, clinical, but there’s still a lot that I like about it. First, you’ve got a pair of performances by Jeremy Irons that are just stunning. Unless Jeremy Irons actually has a twin brother who plays opposite him in this movie. I’m too lazy to look it up. The differences in Beverly and Elliot are subtle, but I had little trouble telling them apart because of the nuances of Irons’ performance. And when he pukes into a shrub? Or when he says, “And some orange pop!” near the end of the movie? It’s just the sort of acting perfection that you don’t get to see very often. The movie’s score by Howard Shore is also great, kind of a throwback to classic movies. And I like a lot of what Cronenberg does with color, especially those striking red surgical outfits that stand out in a movie that otherwise seems tan or blue. But so much of this movie is kind of boring and feels heavy. It feels like you’re carrying something bulky and wet around with you for a couple hours, and although the story is shocking, emotionally complex, and eventually tragic, it just doesn’t really inspire you to feel much of anything. This is worth watching because of Irons’ performance and the mysteriously haunting (and apparently true) story. And those gynecological instruments were pretty sweet, like something you’d see in, well, a Cronenberg movie.
