I Feel the Need. The Need to Feed . . . On Blood

It's hard to accurately describe Cronos. I found myself reminded, at various points, of David Cronenberg, Terry Gilliam, and The Maltese Falcon. That's fairly lofty company for the third film from suddenly "it" director Guillermo del Toro. Does the film deserve it? Yes and no.

One of del Toro's strong suits (as he showed last year with Pan's Labyrinth) is his ability to work with children. This is a rare skill, and I might venture to say that he is the best director of children this side of Gilliam or Spielberg. Even though Tamara Shanath doesn't speak a word until the final scene, she conveys her emotions perfectly, and she gives a portrait of a young girl entering a world that seems unbearable. Of course, she has adapted to this harsh world enough to save her grandfather in the final scene, her innocence yet another casualty of this cruel world. In this way, the story is reminiscent of Kafka's "The Metamorphosis." I am of the belief that the true transformation in that story is that of Grete, Gregor Samsa's sister, from caring to cruel, and that is echoed in Cronos. Though Jesus Gris (I'll get out the subtlety hammer) undergoes the literal change from the Cronos device, the story's true arc follows Aurora's initiation into the adult world.

There's more to the story than just a young girl's entrance to a strange world. Cronos puts a unique spin on the vampire genre. In fact, Jesus never actually attacks anyone out of bloodlust. He merely tries to find loose blood wherever he can, including a Christmas party. The look in his eyes when he does see the blood recalls not Dracula, but a lowly junkie in a drug movie. Like in David Cronenberg's Rabid, the story's main focus is on someone who, for reasons beyond their control, feel a compulsive hunger for blood. Though Rabid reaches for more storylines (to great success), Cronos barely leaves Jesus. We watch him suffer as he attempts to maintain his composure in society, barely able to keep from licking the blood off a man's broken nose. Instead we watch him degrade himself as he licks blood off the floor. For all that it matters at this point in the story, he might as well have been snorting cocaine off the lip of the toilet. It's the same level of degradation, and it has the same harmful impact on his family.

The first time he uses the Cronos device deliberately, we are given the point of view of Aurora, watching from the stairs above him. What we see is as foreign to us as heroin would appear to Aurora. Though Aurora never prepares the Cronos device, she remains as complacent as Jeliza-Rose in Tideland with her grandfather's use of this dangerous drug. After that first time, when she tries to hide the syringe, er I mean Cronos device, from Jesus, she hides the Cronos device for him, unaware of anything except that it makes him feel good.

This film is far more fun than this plot lets on. All the somberness of the drug addiction and maturation is lightened by an amusing subplot featuring a wonderfully over-the-top performance from Ron Perlman. Perlman plays the nephew of the only man who knows the secrets of the Cronos device. Dieter de la Guardia, as played by Claudio Brook, is like an uncharismatic, terminally ill Kasper Gutman, lusting after the Black Bird, I mean Cronos device. Perlman's character, Angel, is alternately charming and vicious. He is a man who, despite his light colored suits and sensitive demeanor when dealing with Jesus and Aurora, shows the capability to do terrible things. Angel's desire for a nosejob, in retrospect seems to exist for the sole purpose of a late punchline (expected but still funny), but it also adds a dimension to the character that was desperately needed. This desire shows a weakness in the character, and it serves to underline his self-loathing. Angel hates his life, serving his uncle's wishes, and he hates his appearance. It his his hope to escape from both and achieve a fresh start. Of course, since he is an underling, he fate was sealed from his first moment on screen.


Therein lies the main problem with Cronos. It is a very good rehash of genre characters and cliches, but it still relies on those cliches too often. It lacks any siginficant originality that would separate it from the designation of second tier Cronenberg. The idea of combining the insect world with the Catholic world is would be worth fleshing out (pardon the expression), but del Toro sees little use for it outside of a deep thought to throw in with the vampirism and addiction. Cronos is a very good genre film. It doesn't aspire to be much more than that. Unfortunately, this sort of genre film has already been done, and better.

An Open Letter to the Elderly Couple Who Sat Next To Me Last Night

Dear Sir and Madam,

I know you don't know me, but I sat next to you last night during the showing at the Harvard Film Archive of Cronos. I'm sorry if I sound presumptuous, but I hate you. You are the epitome of the film enthusiast I hope never to be when I reach your age. There are a few reasons for this, which I hope will clarify my disdain for you and help to be a better filmgoer in the future.

Your bitter tirade to the young couple who sat a few rows behind us during the film was completely uncalled for and extremely rude. In fact, I doubt your argument made any sense at all. To yell at someone for eating food at a movie is unfair to both the person eating and to the film.

First of all, I would understand your anger if we were watching, say, Schindler's List or something else that deserved solemn attention. However, the film we were watching was a film about drug abuse disguised as a film about vampirism. Certainly Guillermo del Toro would have no objection to someone enjoying his film and bringing candy to the theater. Sure, I don't like it when people eat their food at the theater noisily, but that's what comes with the theatrical experience when you're watching a film like Cronos. In fact, to some extent, it adds to the charm. The knowledge that other people are there with you in the dark adds another level of excitement to a good movie.

Though the screening was in an academic building, I highly doubt your claim that food and drink were prohibited in the screening room. After all, what purpose would the vending machines outside serve if they could not be eaten in the theater? And even if it was forbidden, what problem would you have with two people eating in the theater? Was it really so loud that it detracted from your experience of the film?

Now I like to think I respect the movies. I try to get out to the theater whenever I can, and believe in the power of film to change me for the better. I try not to talk during movies, but I firmly believe that some movies are there purely for enjoyment. Yelling at a man for bringing food into Cronos is as bad as yelling at someone for yelling at The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It's supposed to happen. Get over it.

I certainly wouldn't have even known that someone was eating in the theater. I couldn't hear them over YOU TALKING TO EACH OTHER DURING THE FILM! That was far more distracting to me than any noise anyone could have made eating something. But that's not even the worst part. Your conversations consisted solely of pointing out plot points to each other. As if you couldn't realize that the granddaughter hadn't said a word until the final scene without your wife telling you. Thank you. That added so much to my viewing experience.

Your blatant hypocrisy and your utter rudeness actually took away from the experience of my entire day. I watched two very good films, one decent one, and enjoyed everything else about my day. And yet the thing that stands out most is you. I hope I have articulated my point well enough for you to understand why I am so upset with you, and I hope that you can take this into consideration when you next go to a film. Thank you.

Dan Eisenberg