Rabid (1977)

 “I don't want to become the Colonel Sanders of plastic surgery..."

Well. I've always said until now that I've seen an awful lot of David Cronenberg films (I may do an index for the blog after this if I remember. Maybe David Lynch too.), but I've somehow contrived to focus on the ones with the least emphasis on his signatute body horror- although his later films are indeed very good.

This one goes a long way towards redressing the balance, in being the Canadian auteur's second film- low budget, and a  glimpse at a talented young man rather than an established director- and having body horror coming out of its armpit, by means of a suspiciously phallic-looking bloodsucking proboscis, which makes it interesting that the affected protagonist, Rosie, is a woman. Perhaps this film is inspired by sex during a period, but... moving swiftly on.

Basically, this is a low budget film with no stars and few extras that nevertheless achieves brilliance necause it's directed by an enfant terrible. Cronenberg's pacing, signature camerawork and visual style are already present and correct as a B movie plot- a girl has a motorbike crash and has to have emergency surgery by an unconventional plastic surgeon (called Dr Keloid!), leading to said body horror and a rabies-type plague on a suspiciously Anglophone Montreal where only a random exposition-spouting cop happens to be from the French-speaking majority- is raised to something much greater by sheer style. The locations, the lighting, even the mid-twentieth century architecture are made to look stunning.

It can be a fascinating experience to see a cinematic genius at work in their early, unheralded, years, where the creativity relies not on Hollywood visual tricks but on making something wonderful out of nothing. This is one of them.