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Dead Ringers
(David Cronenberg, 1988)





Cronenberg's films often feel cold and clinical and emotionally repressed. Sometimes that approach can stiff arm my enjoyment. Less so here. Jeremy Irons is superb in dual roles. I thought it would be difficult to tell the identical twins apart, but after a few minutes into the movie their unique personalities are revealed. Irons infuses both characters with subtle differences: a slight change in posture, a more confident vocal tone, an inability to maintain eye contact, a nervous tic here, a nervous tic there. Dead Ringers features the usual Cronenberg eroticism, but it's never sexy. Nor should it be. These are characters who make a living sitting between the legs of women in stirrups. They view sex as a scientific study, something to be probed with medical tools, not passion. The primary themes of the film can be found in numerous horror entries involving identical twins or Siamese twins -- and which is summed up aptly by the tagline: "Two bodies. Two minds. One soul."

It doesn't take long before things get eerie and weird, although the film is surprisingly light on body horror -- the nightmarish sequence in the screenshot above being one of the few examples. This is more of a psychological thriller. My complaints lie in the second half of the film. The downward spiral comes on too sudden. Instead of a gradual decline, characters leap off a cliff. Some nuance would've given the film more emotional weight and complexity. I was also disappointed that Genevieve Bujold's character, despite playing an integral role in the plot, essentially disappears for the entire second half of the film. Cronenberg's films are always interesting, but for me he strikes out just as often as he hits. I'm pleased to report that Dead Ringers is one of his better efforts.

Stolen (2012)