The Horror!: David Cronenberg’s Videodrome is Pornography of the Male Protagonist
By Carina Williamson
It would be ludicrous to assert that a critically acclaimed film such as Videodrome could be seen as analogous to erotica, but that is exactly what I believe Cronenberg intended. Videodrome was born into an era that saw the rise of second wave feminism alongside a raging debate over women in porn. From the late 70s to the early 80s, a prominent social and political organization known as the Women Against Violence in Pornography and Media sparked conversations around sex and violence in porn. Women during this time expressed real concern that the proliferation of violence against women in pornography would lead to an increase in domestic and sexual abuse. Unfortunately, this group was almost entirely dismissed, and sex and violence are still intricately tied together by the ever-growing porn industry. Cronenberg pushes this crucial discourse forward by giving the white male protagonist, Max Renn, an exposed vagina and subjecting him to a sexualized camera gaze in an attempt to show how unacceptable the porn industry would seem if the victims were men. Despite the surface-level sexist themes about women that Videodrome perpetuates, I argue that Cronenberg intended to self reflexively comment on sex and violence in pornography. Through the portrayals of women with sexual agency and gruesome depictions of Renn’s newfound female genitalia, Videodrome becomes a preversion of the traditional male protagonist as a wake-up call to the reality that violence against women has been normalized in pornography to the point of complacency – unconscious or otherwise. To advance his analogy of Max Renn as the subject of pornography, Cronenberg illustrates Renn’s transition into a woman in three ways: physically, mentally, and socially.
The most obvious of Renn’s transformations is the emergence of a pulsating vagina-hole in his abdomen, which inhibits him physically as he must contend with the reality of becoming vulnerable to penetration, much in the way that women in porn are. Renn’s entire reality now circulates around the vagina-hole in his chest, both mentally and physically. Through the hallucinatory Videodrome tapes that are pushed inside him, Renn’s reality is controlled by the vagina-hole, but the threat of being penetrated also affects his psychological state. Barbara Creed uses the connection between the postmodern era of film in the 70s and 80s and the rise in feminist film to argue that Videodrome showcases the horror of what happens when men are confronted with the consequences of having female anatomy. Creed illustrates how Renn’s newfound genitalia has become “a pure screen, a switching center for all the networks of influence” further confirming that Renn has become fixated with the control that Videodrome now has over him (Creed 411). She argues that one of the ways that Max Renn becomes female physically is through the fact that he is now vulnerable to being penetrated. Creed describes how Renn has become female due to “the ultimate scenario of powerlessness, the ultimate violation of the body” (411) in having a vagina. She argues that one of the ways that men become feminine in terms of gender stereotypes is through the susceptibility to be penetrated. That is why Videodrome becomes horrific to men, because their power comes from being the one who can penetrate others. As Videodrome portrays, when a man physically changes into a female form as Renn does, his entire reality changes due to the vulnerability that is inherent to being a woman.
The second way that Max Renn becomes female in Videodrome is in his mental subjugation to his female counterparts: Nicki and Bianca. Nicki and Bianca both appear to exert an unusual amount of power over the male protagonist, which is Cronenberg’s way of making Renn more mentally female. Renn’s sexual partner, Nicki, is the reason that he ends up being corrupted by Videodrome, as fake videos of her begging for Renn to rescue her are used to manipulate him. Videodrome uses Renn’s fragile masculinity and hero complex to force him into becoming their new test subject. Then, it is Renn’s acquaintance Bianca who convinces him to bring down Videodrome after he escapes, using his vulnerability against him to meet her own ends. Finally, when Max commits suicide, it is at the beckoning of Nicki who encourages Renn to kill himself in order to move into the ‘new flesh’. Some may disagree with this conjecture, citing how badly Renn treats the women in his life. Dunlap’s article, “Grotesque Normals: Cronenberg's Recent Men and Women”, recounts the trajectory of gender roles in Cronenberg’s films. Dunlap argues that Cronenberg’s early works, including Videodrome, do not include feminist characters or relationships, while his later work reflects a change by giving women more agency. He disputes the idea that the women of Videodrome are feminist due to “the theme of a harmonious sexual relationship that is available to, but profoundly out of reach of, the protagonists” (Dunlap 1). While I agree that there is never a point in which the characters are in a happy relationship, I believe that this is more due to Renn’s negligence and sexism than the women’s lack of agency. Despite Renn’s unapologetic sexism, the examples that I provide above portray a compelling case that Cronenberg’s female characters have more control than it seems, especially in comparison to Renn. Marianne Kac-Vergne writes an expose article chronicling the rise and fall of stereotypical gender roles in science fiction films. As Kac-Vergne details, the main purpose of female characters in science fiction used to be to “act as mirrors that reflect the male hero, delineating the contours of masculinity” (Kac-Vergne 2), however in Videodrome Nicki and Bianca actually do the opposite. It is via their control over Max Renn that his femininity is emphasized, eventually leading to his demise. Through the characters of Nicki and Bianca and their manipulation, the women of Videodrome exert their power over Renn, highlighting his transition into a powerless female.
Finally, Max Renn becomes socially female through his subjection to the sexualized camera gaze, in the same way that the ‘final girl’ in traditional horror films is objectified. The final girl is a frequently used figure—She is beautiful, innocent, and the victim who is subjected to the most terror. What is intriguing about Videodrome in terms of camera work are the number of close ups of Renn’s newfound vagina-hole, a shot that would normally be reserved for attractive female characters in peril. Carol Clover’s article, “Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film,” goes into a deep dive of the traditional gender roles displayed in the ‘final girl’ in horror films. Clover details how the murders of male victims are short while “the murders of women…are filmed at closer range, in more graphic detail, and at greater length” (Clover 201). In a very similar way, Cronenberg documents Renn’s vagina-hole with a number of close ups to catch it twitching and almost breathing, while we never even see one of the main female characters, Nicki’s, death. Cronenberg draws the parallel between the fetishization of the horrors done to the ‘final girl’ and the violence dealt to women in porn by subjecting Renn’s predicament to the same treatment. The use of weapons in Videodrome also draws connections to the phallic and rape-esque connections of the killer’s approach to the final girl. The unconventional choice here is how Max Renn penetrates himself, whereas the women of horror movies are typically penetrated. Clover recounts how “the killer's phallic purpose, as he thrusts his drill or knife into the trembling bodies of young women, is unmistakable” (209), physically penetrating the women of horror for the viewer’s pleasure. While in Videodrome Renn experiences penetration at the hand of Videodrome with video cassettes, he is also penetrated by his own gun which “signifies a different narrative, one in which he is man violating himself-as-woman” (Creed 411), perhaps an even more horrific image. Cronenberg once again makes use of the close up to chronicle in detail the self-penetration. In the same way that the ‘final girl’ in slasher films is sexualized, Videodrome’s Max Renn is subjected to the same sexualized camera gaze to complete his transition into the vulnerable female.
Once Max Renn has concluded his transformation into a female physically, mentally, and socially, Cronenberg’s Videodrome becomes the very pornography that Renn produces for the world. While the film begins with graphic images of tied up women in porn scenes, Renn actually is subjected to many of the stereotypical tortures that women are used to: seduction, penetration, and terror. In Bart Testa’s article, “Panic Pornography,” he outlines how Cronenberg flips the gaze of the camera around from the graphic depictions of porn to the pornographer himself. Testa shows how Renn brought this fate on himself because he was “under the seduction” (Testa 62) of Videodrome in the same way that women in porn are supposed to have brought violence on themselves by being seduced into the industry. Cronenberg introduces the idea that Renn deserved to have been subjected to this horror, much to the distaste of the audience, to change that destructive idea. Renn then has the same torments thrust upon him that many women have experienced when, “Convex thrusts a flesh-like videocassette into Max’s slit and says, ‘Open up for me, Max’” (69). Cronenberg deliberately sexualizes the penetration in this moment to further draw the connection between dramatized pornography and what is being done to the male protagonist. Another element that Cronenberg is right to include is the notion of terror being sexualized in porn. He repeatedly draws the audience’s attention back to the notion of Renn as the ‘final girl’ who, through the journey of the horror film, becomes “abject terror personified” (Clover 201). Max Renn is the subject of all this terror in Videodrome as he himself connects sex and violence in his own pornography of himself. Cronenberg turns the sexualized gaze of the camera onto the protagonist, inflicting the seduction, penetration, and terror that women are used to on to the supposedly protected Renn to self-reflexively comment on sex and violence in pornography.
But why? The reason Cronenberg’s Videodrome becomes pornography of the male protagonist is to make the film into horror for the male viewer. I believe that Cronenberg hid his true intentions with this movie through analogy in order to lure his intended audience into theaters. Once sucked into the story – and rooting for the protagonist Max Renn – Cronenberg turns the tables. Scott Loren’s article, “Mutating Masculinity: Re-Visions of Gender and Violence in the Cinema of David Cronenberg,” contends that Videodrome uses men as the tortured subject to shock viewers into seeing pornography in a new light. Loren describes how Cronenberg’s films as a whole trend towards “reflections on masculine anxieties about gender” (Loren 152) and particularly how it relates to “patriarchal authority, masculine social practices and male desire” (Loren 152). This critical argument would be in line with my thesis that Cronenberg intends for viewers to reflect on male desire to maintain their gender superiority and how that causes women to suffer within the patriarchy. One of the main ways that Videodrome becomes horror for men is through them being forced to confront their involvement with institutions like pornography. Loren illustrates how the institutions which gave Renn his power now cause him to “become monstrous” (155). While most men probably do not intend to do harm by participating in these institutions, seeing another man become a monster through his engagement with them is a wake-up call to their own complacency. Finally, Loren argues that Videodrome is a distinctly different type of horror film because “we see tortured male subjects, the male gaze directed at male objects, and men struggling through gendered terrains of violence” (Loren 153). We see men as tortured subjects in the same way that women are traditionally treated in horror and pornography. But not only is Max Renn tortured by the villain, Videodrome, he is also forced to confront his involvement in patriarchal institutions that are now working against him. In some ways it truly is a female revenge film as Renn becomes subjected to the same tortures and sexualized gaze as the victims of the pornography that he makes money off of. Videodrome forces men to consider their own position in society, just as Max Renn does, as well as the treatment of women in pornography, making the film into a horrific encounter for the blissfully unaware.
Since Cronenberg uses the stereotypical plights of women being vulnerable and powerless to make his argument, Videodrome may seem sexist at some points. Some may even say that Cronenberg’s true meaning got lost in this complex analogy, leading to dangerous misinterpretations. If it takes so much work to peel back all the layers, then is it valuable to make the argument at all? I do not have the answer to that yet. However, if only one mind was changed due to Cronenberg’s work, then I think it was worth it. It is the duty of filmmakers to make content like this, dangerous and disruptive, in the hopes that they can make an effect on just a few people. Still today prominent feminist groups fight against the ever-rising numbers of reported and unreported domestic and sexual violence, which could have been encouraged by pornography. Cronenberg did some of the work by drawing back the curtain on the horrors of the porn industry, but the rest is on us. So, the next time you pull up Pornhub or hear reports of domestic abuse, think about what you would do if you were in the woman’s position – or, better yet, what you can do to help her now.
Works Cited
Clover, Carol J. “Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film.” Representations, vol. 20, no. 1, 1987, pp. 187-228.
Creed, Barbara. “From Here to Modernity: Feminism and Postmodernism.” A Postmodern Reader edited by Joseph P. Natoli, State University of New York Press, 1993. Pg. 398- 412.
Dunlap, A., & Delpech-Ramey, J. (2010). “Grotesque Normals: Cronenberg's Recent Men and Women.” Discourse, 32(3), 321-337, 359-360.
Kac-Vergne, Marianne “Sidelining Women in Contemporary Science-Fiction Film”, Miranda, 02 March 2016.
Loren, Scott. “Mutating Masculinity: Re-Visions of Gender and Violence in the Cinema of David Cronenberg.” Männlichkeiten Denken, 2011.
Mize S. “A Critique of a Proposal by Radical Feminists to Censor Pornography Because of its Sexist Message” (New Zealand). Otago Law Review. 1988;6(4):589-614.
Testa, Bart. “Panic Pornography: Videodrome from Production to Seduction.” Canadian Journal of Political and Social Theory, vol. 8, no. 1-2, 1989.
Zawinski A. “Pornography is Violence Against Women” Off Our Backs. 1980;10(7):8.