The more cult, the happier --- watch "Naked Lunch"

Greyson 2022-03-20 09:01:59

"Naked Lunch" is one of the few movies I've seen recently, and it's been hailed by fans as a cult classic and one of David Cronenberg's best works.

The first time I heard the name of "Naked Lunch" was when I was a freshman. I read it in a DVD magazine. It was about a cult movie. I was fascinated by the poster. A man in a hat with a head The typewriter, his hands are in pain, and two cockroaches are crawling around. The cult is full of meaning, and he has left a deep impression without seeing the film.

"Naked Lunch" is adapted from William Burrows' autobiographical novel of the same name. The original author is an outstanding representative of the so-called "Beat Generation" writers in the United States. It is not uncommon for Kronenberg to be able to shoot such unconventional works.

The general content of the film is that the protagonist Bill Lee wants to write, but he needs to feed himself by exterminating insects. His wife, Joan, became addicted to insecticide powder, and soon he himself entered the world of psychedelics like her. He visited the good-natured but dark-hearted Dr. Benway and received the first dose of black meat, an anesthetic made from the flesh of the great Brazilian centipede. Instead of hitting Joan with the cup in the head during a party scam, Bill kills her and he flees to the Interzone. There are typewriters like talking insects, double agents and continuous intrigue.

The whole film is full of heterogeneous images, from the typewriter in the beetle to the alien-like creatures, the gestures and expressions of the characters in the film are full of cult flavor, the director uses the banner of cult, and all the obscure plot settings are It was allowed, which made the viewing process extremely difficult. After watching it once, the first feeling was that I didn’t understand it. I really didn’t understand it very well. What I could see was actually just the tip of the iceberg.

Personally, I feel that the so-called Interzone in the film is actually the most real place in our hearts. People on weekdays often live in a kind of peaceful despair, and deep inside is a forbidden place that we are unwilling to face. , Under some kind of stimulation, we entered the "interval", where we can face the true self. The protagonist in the film uses drugs to complete the spiritual journey of the "interval". In the interval, he admits that he is Homosexuality and let it sink in. Such a realm where reality and dreams are indistinguishable is like the darkest corner of people's hearts.

Of course, the director and the original author wanted to express far more than that. The film also mentioned homosexuality. In order to achieve this goal, the director deliberately weakened the female characters. Both women died under the gun of the protagonist, and even the metaphor Women's typewriters are not immune to bad luck. In the film, the positioning of female characters is ugly, and the director's performance of sex between men and women is also one-sided, and he has not made as much talk as in previous films. However, sexual innuendo is naturally indispensable in his films, just like the slight movement of a typewriter. . (I don't know how to describe it), and then to the liquid left on the head of the ugly creature, Kronenborg used the magical scenes he was good at to complete one symbolic retreat after another, and it was still fierce.

The starting point of this film is drugs, hallucinogens, etc., with which the protagonist can complete the so-called task. In the film, the performance of the state of the descendants of the drug can be described as novel, and the plot setting of the typewriter turning into a beetle is even more amazing. Under such a visual impact, even the toilet dance in "Trainspotting" can't match.

Generally speaking, the definition of cult films often comes from the black theme, and "Nude Lunch" deserves it. Even the tone of the picture and the soundtrack are full of cult flavor. Although the theme is desperate and black, the tone of the whole film is bright and warm, the characters are sharp, and there is no sense of blurring. Coupled with the jazz soundtrack of Tom Waits, apart from the content of the film, you can completely Appreciate it as an exquisite work of art, but this reversed thinking impact and the cockroaches appearing in twos and threes in the picture remind us: "Hey! This is an authentic cult movie!" At this time, Crow Nanberg hid in the corner, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled weirdly, as if to say to the world: the more cult, the happier

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Extended Reading

Naked Lunch quotes

  • Yves Cloquet: I've seen you around, but I had no idea you were queer.

    Bill Lee: Queer?

    Yves Cloquet: [leers] I saw you arrive with those three Interzone boys. What an entrance. You all looked very... familiar with each other.

    Bill Lee: [gulps] Queer. A curse. Been in our family for generations. The Lees have always been perverts. I shall never forget the unspeakable horror that froze the lymph in my glands when the baneful word seared my reeling brain - I was a homosexual. I thought of the painted simpering female impersonators I'd seen in a Baltimore nightclub. Could it be possible I was one of those subhuman things? I walked the streets in a daze like a man with a light concussion. I would've destroyed myself. And a wise old queen - Bobo, we called her - taught me that I had a duty to live and bear my burden proudly for all to see. Poor Bobo came to a sticky end - he was riding in the Duke Devanche's Hispano Suissa when his falling hemorrhoids blew out of the car and wrapped around the rear wheel. He was completely gutted leaving an empty shell sitting there on the giraffe skin upholstry. Even the eyes and the brain went with a horrible "shlupping" sound. The Duke says he would carry that ghastly "shlup" with him to his mausoleum.

  • Bill Lee: Did I ever tell you about the man who taught his asshole to talk? His whole abdomen would move up and down you dig farting out the words. It was unlike anything I had ever heard. This asshole talk had sort of a gut frequency. It hit you right down there like you gotta go. You know when the old colon gives you the elbow and it feels sorta cold inside, and you know all you have to do is turn loose? Well this talking hit you right down there, a bubbly, thick stagnant sound, a sound you could smell. This man worked for a carnival you dig, and to start with it was like a novelty ventriliquist act. Real funny, too, at first. He had a number he called The Better Ole that was a scream, I tell you. I forget most of it but it was clever. Like, "Oh I say, are you still down there, old thing?" "Nah I had to go relieve myself." After a while the asshole started talking on its own. He would go in without anything prepared and his asshole would ad-lib and toss the gags back at him every time. Then it developed sort of teeth-like little raspy in-curving hooks and start eating. He thought this was cute at first and built an act around it, but the asshole would eat its way through his pants and start talking on the street, shouting out it wanted equal rights. It would get drunk, too, and have crying jags nobody loved it and it wanted to be kissed same as any other mouth. Finally it talked all the time day and night, you could hear him for blocks screaming at it to shut up, and beating it with his fist, and sticking candles up it, but nothing did any good and the asshole said to him, "It is you who will shut up in the end. Not me. Because we dont need you around here any more. I can talk and eat AND shit." After that he began waking up in the morning with a transparent jelly like a tadpoles tail all over his mouth. This jelly was what the scientists call un-D.T., Undifferentiated Tissue, which can grow into any kind of flesh on the human body. He would tear it off his mouth and the pieces would stick to his hands like burning gasoline jelly and grow there, grow anywhere on him a glob of it fell. So finally his mouth sealed over, and the whole head would have have amputated spontaneous - except for the EYES you dig. Thats one thing the asshole COULDN'T do was see. It needed the eyes. But nerve connections were blocked and infiltrated and atrophied so the brain couldnt give orders any more. It was trapped in the skull, sealed off. For a while you could see the silent, helpless suffering of the brain behind the eyes, then finally the brain must have died, because the eyes WENT OUT, and there was no more feeling in them than a crabs eyes on the end of a stalk.