In 1979, Canadian Director David Cronenberg released his third film. He had already developed a reputation as a schlock-master, something that sounds more akin to Herschell Gordon Lewis than what Cronenberg’s work would later come to represent. In his first two outings, Shivers (1975) and Rabid (1977), Cronenberg captured the grotesque manifestations of inner fears, turning venereal into visceral with a deft precision that was careful to not eclipse into the supernatural. His desire for realism was fierce, occupying the same space as the inventors of the Atomic bomb. Though critics and audiences of the day mostly recognized the gut-wrenching, taunting gore as little more than typical drive-in splatter flicks, this would change with The Brood, a deeply personal, taught film that cemented Cronenberg’s legacy as the unchallenged King of Body Horror.
The Brood is the emotionally pregnant tale of a man, Frank Carveth (Art Hindle), fighting for the safety of his daughter from his disturbed, abusive wife, Nola (Samantha Eggar). Nola’s childhood trauma, beaten by an alcoholic mother and a father who did nothing to stop it, manifests itself as an army of “killer dwarves” that aim to literally kill the roots of her anxiety. The titular brood are byproducts of an experimental psychological treatment, psychoplasmics, carried out by Dr. Hal Raglan, portrayed with confident and pompous tenacity by acclaimed English actor Oliver Reed. The story is rooted in fears of loss: loss of a child, loss of a childhood, loss of the family unit. There’s a reason the white-haired creatures bursting from Nola’s external womb-like sac bear resemblance to Candice (Cindy Hinds), her stoic, traumatized daughter: they are her surrogate children who will never abandon her.
Samantha Eggers’ schizophrenic portrayal of a childhood abuse victim dealing with motherhood steals the few scenes she’s gifted with a wild, animalistic desire to protect her need for family. When given the opportunity, however, she proclaims that she would rather her child die than be taken from her. Cronenberg used his own arguments with his ex-wife to motivate the dialogue. The film is his most autobiographical, and his personal connection to the material elevates The Brood from his previous body-horror pictures. The basic elements are there: a mad doctor with an experimental cure, a woman who becomes patient zero, and a blitzkrieg of bitter repercussions. The Brood offers a more philosophical approach than his former outings, attaching itself with an umbilical cord to Cronenberg’s life. The fodder provided by his divorce and subsequent custody battle feeds the film resulting in a high-minded family drama wrapped in a bow of blood and guts.
There are aspects of the film that show its age. The feral horde of Nola’s fears veers on the edge of camp in their waxen facial prosthetics. But Cronenberg’s authority shows just enough of the nightmare children to display their otherness without grandiose long-takes that risk shattering their illusion. He saves the most horrifying shock, arguably of his career, for Nola. Revealing herself to her husband at the climax, Nola is a visage of angelic mother meets demonic spider, carrying her egg sac with visible fetus outside her body. The wickedly brutal scene of Nola licking the blood off her newborn was cut on its initial release (however an image does appear in Fangoria Issue #3, December 1979). Later releases have seen it returned to glorious infamy. It’s a horrifying portrayal of motherhood that holds up over the years, a metaphor for how our internal scars impact the lives of our spawn.
The producers had originally requested a movie about psychics (an idea that would later become Scanners, 1981), however, Cronenberg’s personal circumstances compelled him to write The Brood instead. During the Canadian tax shelter days, financiers were desperate for any material an accomplished director like Cronenberg could provide. And so, he was given $1.5 million to complete the project. Most of the budget was spent casting the accomplished Eggers and Reed, but also capturing Art Hindle for the role of father Frank, whose participation in 1974’s Black Christmas offered a sense of horror cred to the otherwise exalted cast of dramatic actors. It was a commercial success despite its limited release, being shorted by US distributors to a one-week run in most theaters. It would take decades, but The Brood would come to be known as Cronenberg’s ascension – claiming a seat at the big kid’s table as a master of horror. Though for many years, The Brood would fall in with Cronenberg’s first three films as an example of his “premature” work – before Scanners, Videodrome, and Naked Lunch.
In 2015, The Brood was finally given its golden chalice. Earning a Criterion Collection seal is a film equivalent of a Pulitzer Prize. It’s a stamp which carries with it a legitimacy that a film, whatever genre it may be, is important – a bonafide masterwork of its genre. Rarely will you blind buy a Criterion release and find yourself disappointed. So, when the folks at Criterion placed their stamp of approval on The Brood, body horror fans stood and rejoiced. Finally, the film was seen beyond the confines of Cronenberg’s “early work” and recognized in all its psychodramatic glory. The Brood celebrates its 40 year anniversary this year with a seal of true genius. Though for most of us horror fans, we already knew that.
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Having remembered its theatrical release,it was a major surprise that New World Pictures gave THE BROOD a very brief theatrical run(despite the massive success that they had with David Cronenberg’s previous film RABID),but (the thankful[arriving-at-the-time] rise of) the modern horror/genre media press(of the time) heavily plugged and promoted the film that enabled THE BROOD to remain vividly alive and thriving throughout the years that has kept this excellent film actively going(and gaining plenty of fans to fully support it).