Latest news with #DavidCronenberg
The Guardian
15 hours ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Post your questions for Rosanna Arquette
Rosanna Arquette – the older sister of actors Patricia and David – found fame as the bored housewife to Madonna's bohemian drifter in 1985's Desperately Seeking Susan. Elsewhere in your cinematic memory, she helped save Uma Thurman from accidentally overdosing in Pulp Fiction, and had her fishnet stockings ripped off by James Spader in David Cronenberg's Crash. But Arquette has been in all sorts of films, opposite all sorts of actors: she co-starred with Joe Pesci and Danny Glover in trip gone wrong comedy Gone Fishin', Tim Roth and Renée Zellweger in mystery film Liar, and Christina Ricci, Vincent Gallo and Mickey Rourke in Buffalo 66. In the 2000s, she starred in the thriller Diary of a Sex Addict, as the wife of an otherwise happily married chef who has a penchant for – well, the clue is in the title. A move into directing saw her direct and produce Searching for Debra Winger, a documentary about the American actor who left the industry at the height of her career, which was selected for the Cannes film festival. And in 2011, Arquette teamed up with Jane Fonda for comedy drama Peace, Love, and Misunderstanding. On TV, she has popped up everywhere from Will & Grace to Malcolm in the Middle and Ray Donovan. Now Arquette has a role in 'mind-bending new romantic sci-fi' Futra Days, in which she plays a doctor with a time machine for rent, which sounds oddly familiar … Please get your questions in by 6pm BST Wednesday 2 July, and we'll print her answers in Film&Music later that month. Futra Days in on digital platforms from 21 July
Irish Times
19 hours ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Times
Horror director David Cronenberg on his wife's death: ‘I wanted to get into the coffin, to be with her body'
David Cronenberg would not be unhappy to see the term 'body horror' retire. The film-maker is perfectly fine with plain 'horror' and has often wondered why fellow practitioners, such as John Carpenter , shy away from describing themselves as artists. 'Great horror films have always been art,' he says, citing Ingmar Bergman's Hour of the Wolf. As long ago as Shivers, his breakthrough feature, from 1979, the Canadian auteur, whose films do indeed do harrowing things to the human form, used the description 'experimental physical fiction'. Regardless of the phrasing, it's a subgenre he is more responsible for than any other director. For decades the king of venereal horror, or godfather of cyberpunk – both terms bemuse him – has probed the psychological and philosophical underpinnings of transformation, whether through disease, desire or video recorder. His carnally focused disciples Julia Ducournau and Coralie Fargeat , along with the younger moviemaking Cronenbergs – his children Caitlin and Brandon – are part of a recognisably Cronenbergian style of film. READ MORE 'Brandon's writing is so different from mine,' he says about the director of the recent Infinity Pool . 'I think he's a wonderful screenwriter. He and Cate have been on my film set since they were babies. Who knows how much that has influenced them? I don't even think they know. 'On the other hand, they make movies that I would not have made and are unique to them. Brandon was resistant to being a film-maker just because of my presence. He wanted to develop as an individual. Eventually, he caved. His films go somewhere different from mine.' He laughs. 'Are there similarities? I'll leave that to you.' Decades after Shivers, cinema's most provocative and intellectually rigorous film-maker continues to explore the nexus between biology, technology and identity. In Dead Ringers, twin gynaecologists (played with compelling froideur by Jeremy Irons ) spiral into drug-fuelled madness, sharing women and surgical delusions. In The Fly, Jeff Goldblum 's DNA is pureed with that of the titular insect. In Crash, car-accident survivors eroticise their wounds and restage famous fatal accidents as sexual rites. In Crimes of the Future , set in a world where people grow extra organs and performance artists perform surgery as live art, the key mantra is, 'The body is reality.' That and 'experimental physical fiction' are easily applicable to The Shrouds. Cronenberg's 23rd feature concerns Karsh Relikh ( Vincent Cassel ), an affluent tech entrepreneur who is consumed by grief four years after the death of his wife, Becca ( Diane Kruger ), from cancer. He pioneers GraveTech, a system that uses 'shrouds' embedded with mini‑cameras to stream the visual decay of the dead to screens in their gravestones. The deeply personal film, which was inspired by the death of Cronenberg's wife Carolyn, in 2017, follows Relikh's fragile, obsessive mourning as it spirals into conspiratorial thinking. Cronenberg calls it a 'perverse elegy' to his partner of 38 years. 'I had the need to somehow deal with that death in my heart,' he says. 'I wasn't sure for many years that I actually did want to do that, but eventually I did. 'My reactions to her death surprised me; they were very intense. One of them was the feeling that I wanted to get into the coffin with her. I couldn't stand being separated from her, even though she was dead. Her body was there, and I wanted to be with it. 'I thought, well, that's an interesting thing. And I'm sure I'm not the only one who's ever experienced that feeling.' Vincent Kassel and Guy Pearce in The Shrouds, directed by David Cronenberg The idea of the body as 'all we've got' has roots in Cronenberg's secular Jewish identity. The grandson of Lithuanian Jews peppers The Shrouds with cultural markers, including matzo‑ball soup and pastrami sandwiches. A subplot involves grave vandalism and defaced Star of David headstones. Cassel's grieving hero justifies his macabre tech with a version of Jewish belief about death: the soul lingers around the body after death, reluctant to depart fully until decay makes separation inevitable. 'The Jewishness was not by accident,' Cronenberg says. 'My wife came from a family with an Orthodox Jewish father, which had a huge influence on her, even though she wasn't really religious. So I had to deal with that in the film. What kind of burial? What kind of spiritual resonance? 'I don't believe in a soul, not in the religious sense. But, metaphorically, the Jewish idea of the soul being unwilling to leave the body is very beautiful and emotional. That's really what started that element of Jewishness in the movie. It added layers I hadn't initially planned.' Like David Lynch 's Mulholland Drive and Neill Blomkamp 's District 9, The Shrouds was originally conceived for television. In 2022 Cronenberg pitched it to Netflix as a 10-part series, with each episode to be set in a different country. The streaming platform commissioned him to write the first two episodes but reportedly decided that Cronenberg's novelistic, global structure was not what they 'fell in love with in the room'. 'I was disappointed The Shrouds didn't become a series,' says Cronenberg. 'I was intrigued by the idea of a streaming format – a new cinematic form. A series can be more like a novel, whereas most films are more like novellas or short stories. I would have liked to explore that. 'If Netflix had gone ahead with the series I'd probably still be shooting it now. But I liked what I had written so much that I decided to make it a feature film. Whether it was better as a feature I'll never know, but I don't regret it.' Many reviewers have seen Cassel's character as Cronenberg's Doppelgänger. The director is not convinced. 'How boring would it be if my characters were just me?' he says. 'I want them to be new creatures. You could say every character I write has a bit of me: male, female, dog, cat. But that's not the same as trying to replicate myself. 'To make the dialogue interesting and specific, it's like I'm acting the role of that character as I write. That's different from being a surrogate. I want my characters to surprise me, to resist me. When they come alive and say or do things I didn't plan, then I know I'm on the right path. 'I think film is an experiment where you get to play with human beings and see what happens: wilful human beings who are excited to experiment with you and push you around.' Though heartfelt and inspired by grief, The Shrouds has not been cathartic for Cronenberg. But it did enable him to articulate profound sorrow. Vincent Kassel in The Shrouds, directed by David Cronenberg 'I had the need to somehow deal with that death in my heart. I wasn't sure how for many years,' he says. 'I had many, many strong emotions, and that surprised me. Honestly, I could make two or three more movies based on all of those feelings. 'But in The Shrouds I created a character who's a high-tech entrepreneur. His 'solution to God', so to speak, is rooted in the fact that he can't get into the coffin with his dead wife – because, of course, he would die too ... 'So the next best thing, for him, is to use his technology, his particular art form, his equivalent of a religion or a spiritual practice, to create something that brings him closer to her. 'After that point you're creating fiction. It's no longer talking about yourself; it's no longer autobiography. Even though the impulse came from your actual life.' Between making his own films, Cronenberg has carved out a niche as an actor, often playing cerebral, enigmatic or morally ambiguous outsiders. He's the mystery man posing as the Hollywood producer who will whisk Nicole Kidman 's murderer away to stardom in Gus Van Sant's To Die For. He's the Methodist minister who takes pity on the title character of the TV adaptation of Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace. More recently, he's Dr Kovich, a mysterious 32nd-century Federation official, in Star Trek: Discovery. 'I never got to wear the uniform, unfortunately,' he says. 'They said that Kovich was a special character who would dress relatively normally. Initially he was called Dr Kovich, but later he suddenly became Commander Kovich, which suggests he had a special function – one I can't reveal. 'Star Trek: Discovery is a huge production in Toronto. My pitch as an actor has always been: I'm cheap and I'm available. That's why I've taken on a lot of roles when I'm in town between directing projects. It's really lovely. I start to miss being on set, and acting gives me a way to stay connected to that world.' He's now more than a veteran. 'I'm often greeted by crew members who are the sons and daughters of people I worked with in the past. It keeps the rhythm going.' The Shrouds is in cinemas from Friday, July 4th
CBC
03-06-2025
- Business
- CBC
Is your favourite show CanCon enough? Here's why the definition of Canadian content may get a reboot
What's your favourite bit of CanCon? Maybe Schitt's Creek, which aired on CBC but also streamed on Netflix, comes to mind. Perhaps some iteration of Anne of Green Gables. Or maybe a classic David Cronenberg flick like Dead Ringers? These are all considered to be CanCon — shorthand for Canadian content, it refers to film and television productions made in Canada by Canadians. But maybe you have a favourite show like CBS's Tracker, which airs on Global TV in Canada. It's one of the most watched shows on broadcast and streaming according to the Nielsen ratings, a U.S.-based audience measurement system. It's filmed in British Columbia and employs Canadians, but it's not considered CanCon. That matters because broadcasters in this country have obligations to ensure that a minimum percentage of the content they distribute to viewers meets government CanCon requirements to ensure Canadian stories are available on Canadian TV screens or streaming devices. On-demand streaming changed the game, with global companies like Netflix, Amazon Prime and Disney+ dominating the market. But they haven't been held to the same CanCon standards as traditional Canadian broadcasters, and the streaming companies say it's not realistic to expect them to do so. That's not necessarily something that's on the minds of viewers when they settle into the couch and reach for the remote or the laptop. So here's what you need to know about CanCon and the challenge of getting Canadian eyes on it. I just want to watch my shows. What do I care? Canada's broadcasting regulator, the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC), is at a bit of a fork in the road when it comes to CanCon. The reason there are CanCon requirements is to ensure that Canadian stories and points of view don't get drowned out by the flood of content flowing in from the U.S. "We are a small market in a big world and we sit next to a very experienced, prolific producer of content," said Dave Forget, executive director of the Directors Guild of Canada. "There should be some shelf space for the Canadian stories so that Canadians can also see themselves in their own experience." In 2023, Canada's Online Streaming Act came into effect, updating broadcasting laws to include content streaming services. It meant that foreign streaming companies would not only have to promote or recommend Canadian programming on their platforms, but streamers making $25 million or more in Canada will have to start paying five per cent of their domestic revenue to support the production of Canadian media content. The CRTC estimates that the levy would raise around $200 million a year and said the funding would be used to boost local and Indigenous broadcasting. But now the CRTC is also looking into updating what it considers to be Canadian content. "Our goal is clear: to modernize the definition of Canadian content to reflect today's reality," said Vicky Eatrides, the CRTC's CEO and chairperson, during the start of public consultations last month aimed at reviewing what exactly constitutes CanCon, and to determine whether foreign streamers should be held to the same standards as traditional broadcasters in Canada. The public hearings in Gatineau, Que., spanned two weeks and wrapped up on May 27. WATCH | Breaking down the existing definition of CanCon and how it might change: Why the definition of CanCon might get a reboot 3 days ago Duration 3:57 So, how Canadian do series and movies have to be? While many south-of-the-border movies and shows may have been filmed in Canada, with Canadian crews and talent, it's not enough to be considered CanCon in the eyes of the CRTC. First, the film or show's producer has to be Canadian. Then, there's a 10-point system for key creative roles, and six out of 10 points are needed to meet the bar to be considered CanCon. For example, if the director or writer is Canadian, that gets you two points. But, between the director and the writer, at least one must be Canadian. That also goes for the top performers; one of the two leads must be Canadian. That counts for one point each. Other crew roles such as production designer, director of photography, editor and music composer count for one point each. Other rules apply for animated productions. On top of the point system, Cancon rules state that 75 per cent of production and post-production expenses have to go to Canadians or Canadian companies. The requirements have been loosened before. The CRTC reduced the minimum number of points needed from eight to six in 2016, something the commission said would allow more films to become eligible for certain funding programs. At last month's hearings, there was talk of actually increasing the number of points needed to 15, as well as whether a requirement to reflect Canadian cultural elements should be introduced. WATCH | Why Canadian films struggle at the box office despite international acclaim: Canadian films win awards but struggle at the box office 1 year ago Duration 2:03 So, what do Netflix, Disney+ and other streamers want? Canadian broadcasters, producers — and even artists — want the foreign streaming services, primarily the big U.S. ones many Canadians use, to meet minimum CanCon requirements like they do in order to maintain broadcasting licences and qualify for subsidies. Anthony Shim, a director whose credits include the critically-acclaimed 2022 independent film Riceboy Sleeps, admits it's a challenge to balance the freedom of creativity with the need to protect Canadian artists and storytelling — a goal he says should always be top of mind. Toronto-born writer, producer and director Anthony Q. Farrell, who has worked on series including The Office, the British series The Secret Life of Boys and CTV's Shelved, says the definition of CanCon is more important than ever. "Especially in a time where we're really focusing in on buying Canadian and taking care of our national voice, I think it's important that we … use our Canadian creatives to tell our stories," said Farrell, who provided recommendations at the CRTC consultations on behalf of the Writers Guild of Canada. He agrees that streaming companies "making money off Canadians" should be putting some of their profits back into distinctly Canadian film and television production. The streaming companies, however, don't see it quite the same way. They were collectively represented at the consultations by the Motion Picture Association of Canada, which argued that they're already an integral part of Canada's film and television production sector but that they shouldn't be held to the same content requirements as traditional broadcasters. Wendy Noss, the association's president, appeared at the hearings on May 16 and said the CRTC should make changes to its CanCon policies, including reassessing the number of points required in the 41-year-old CanCon points system, as well as re-evaluating which roles qualify for points. She said that before the CRTC imposes Canadian content requirements on foreign streamers, they need to "introduce meaningful flexibility in modernizing the definition of Canadian programs." "Broadcasting policies should be straightforward, sustainable and flexible to enable global producers to do what they do best: creating entertainment for audiences at home and worldwide," said Noss. The CRTC will hold further CanCon consultation hearings at a later date. But the big streaming companies are also set to battle the CRTC in court over the implementation of the Online Streaming Act. They filed an appeal last year, after the commission ordered global online streaming services to fork over five per cent of their domestic revenues to support the production of Canadian content. WATCH | Why some Canadian content creators are upset about the Online Streaming Act:
CTV News
28-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CTV News
Guillermo del Toro curates Canadian horror movie series for TIFF
Director Guillermo del Toro speaks during a press conference for the movie 'The Shape of Water' at the Toronto International Film Festival on Monday, September 11, 2017. (Chris Donovan / THE CANADIAN PRESS) Director Guillermo del Toro has been tapped to curate a Canadian horror movie series for TIFF this summer. Titled 'From Rabid to Skinamarink: Canadian Movie Madness,' the showcase with TIFF Cinematheque will run from July 9 to 13 at TIFF Lightbox at 350 King St. W. The Toronto International Film Festival says del Toro's picks celebrate 'influential horror films made north of the 49th parallel, featuring iconic and boundary-pushing films by David Cronenberg, Bruce McDonald, and Vincenzo Natali.' They include include Rabid (1977), Cube (1997), Ginger Snaps (2000), Pontypool (2008), and Skinamarink (2022). Del Toro, who was born in Mexico, divides his time between Toronto and Los Angeles, and frequently takes to social media to share his love for the city. His filmography includes a number of movies filmed in the Toronto and Hamilton area – including the Oscar-winning The Shape of Water – and he runs a studio out of three adjacent apartments in the city's east-end. TIFF will also host a free, outdoor screening of The Shape of Water on July 8 at Harbourfront Centre at 235 Queens Quay W., as part of the film festival's 50th anniversary celebrations this summer.
CTV News
27-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CTV News
‘I always feel very much at home there': Julianne Moore gushes about Toronto
'Sirens' star gushes about her love for Toronto in an interview with CTV Your Morning's Anne-Marie Mediwake. Julianne Moore joked this week that maybe 'someday' she'll end up in Toronto, after professing her love for the city where she started her illustrious career nearly 40 years ago. 'You know, I love Toronto,' Moore told CTV Your Morning's Anne-Marie Mediwake when asked what she considers to be 'uniquely Canadian.' Moore has previously stated that she's 'practically Canadian,' and has the film and television credits to prove it. 'I've been working there for years. One of my very first jobs was in Toronto in the mid '80s,' pointing to the 1987 miniseries 'I'll Take Manhattan.' The star of the new Netflix dark comedy series 'Sirens' said that since then, she's seen an 'incredible evolution' in the city 'where it's just become so incredibly diverse and multicultural.' 'There's so much to do there and the food is excellent, and it's just a lovely place to be,' Moore said. The love affair between Canada's biggest city and the American actor has blossomed since the '80s. Moore returned to Toronto to star in Atom Egoyan's 'Chloe' in 2009 and David Cronenberg's 'Maps to the Stars' in 2014. 'Every time I've worked up there I've worked with so many talented actors and so many great crew members, and I always feel very much at home there,' she said.
