The transhuman and posthuman in contemporary horror film: a case study for David Cronenberg's crimes of the future

As the uncertain future of humanity's relationship to technology causes widespread apprehension, themes related to transhuman and posthuman theory have begun to appear in the horror genre. By synthesizing posthuman and transhuman philosophy with horror criticism, this project aims to ascertain these influences and determine the attitudes toward these philosophies reflected in contemporary horror films. In achieving this, the paper will help update the literature to show that horror continues to address societal problems in mainstream entertainment media. Utilizing a case study of David Cronenberg's 2022 film Crimes of the Future, this project finds that the anxieties produced by the incorporation of technology into the human body have impacted filmmakers and audiences alike. This film shows that people are questioning humanity's relationship to technology and contemplating what this entails for the future of the human form. A close analysis of the film reveals that Cronenberg recontextualizes the role of biotechnology in the diegesis of the film and cautions viewers about the consequences of over-reliance on new technologies, especially ones that serve as impediments to evolutionary progress.

THE TRANSHUMAN AND POSTHUMAN IN CONTEMPORARY HORROR FILM: A CASE STUDY OF DAVID CRONENBERG’S CRIMES OF THE FUTURE by Lucius Anderson A Senior Honors Thesis Submitted to the Faculty of The University of Utah In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Honors Degree in Bachelor of Arts In Department of English Approved: ______________________________ W. Andrew Shephard, PhD Thesis Faculty Supervisor _____________________________ Scott Black, PhD Chair, Department of XXXX _______________________________ Spencer Wall, PhD Honors Faculty Advisor _____________________________ Monisha Pasupathi, PhD Dean, Honors College May 2024 Copyright © 2024 All Rights Reserved [Type here] ABSTRACT ii As the uncertain future of humanity’s relationship to technology causes widespread apprehension, themes related to transhuman and posthuman theory have begun to appear in the horror genre. By synthesizing posthuman and transhuman philosophy with horror criticism, this project aims to ascertain these influences and determine the attitudes toward these philosophies reflected in contemporary horror films. In achieving this, the paper will help update the literature to show that horror continues to address societal problems in mainstream entertainment media. Utilizing a case study of David Cronenberg’s 2022 film Crimes of the Future, this project finds that the anxieties produced by the incorporation of technology into the human body have impacted filmmakers and audiences alike. This film shows that people are questioning humanity’s relationship to technology and contemplating what this entails for the future of the human form. A close analysis of the film reveals that Cronenberg recontextualizes the role of biotechnology in the diegesis of the film and cautions viewers about the consequences of over-reliance on new technologies, especially ones that serve as impediments to evolutionary progress. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS ABSTRACT ii INTRODUCTION 1 LITERATURE REVIEW 7 RESULTS 15 DISCUSSION 22 REFERENCES 33 INTRODUCTION 1 The horror genre has long held a prominent position in popular culture, though its critical reception has been subject to fluctuation. Horror films praised as high art have existed side-by-side with schlocky mainstream films derided as low art throughout history, resulting in films like Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and Brides of Blood (1968) being released in the same year. The current landscape of horror cinema similarly features exploitation and B-movies along with independent films possessing an art-house sensibility. In the 2010s especially, there was a surge of independent horror productions acclaimed by critics as high-art due to their serious, solemn nature and utilization of arthouse cinematic techniques to create an atmospheric sense of dread. Scholars and critics have referred to this movement in independent horror cinema by numerous names, including slow horror, elevated horror, and prestige horror. These terms have been invariably decried by swaths of dedicated horror fans who believe that these descriptors imply that mainstream horror films are insignificant. These fans have accordingly had lukewarm responses to this movement. Scholar David Church attempts to describe this trend and sort through the shortcomings of several of these terms, ultimately naming this trend “post-horror” in his 2021 book Post-Horror: Art, Genre and Cultural Elevation. Though this post-horror movement seems to be waning, it was an important phenomenon in the development of contemporary horror cinema due to its critical recognition and the financial success of these low-budget, independent productions. It became easier for young auteurs to break into the industry with horror films because they could make profitable movies with smaller productions while treating their subjects seriously. This meant that budding filmmakers with wide-ranging interests could start 2 their careers in horror no matter if they had a particular interest in the genre. Furthermore, the critical appreciation of these movies helped bring discourse on horror films into the mainstream and spurred academic interest in the genre. Even the mainstream discourse on horror cinema shifted to focus more somberly on the themes present in post-horror, such as grief and mental illness [e.g. The Babadook (2014) and Hereditary (2018)]. This revitalization of interest in horror criticism and scholarship is significant for thematic content concerned with pressing issues in modern society, including posthumanism and transhumanism. As the uncertain future of humanity’s relationship to technology causes apprehension in many, themes related to transhuman and posthuman theories have begun to appear in these films. There is a long and storied history of horror filmmaking across the globe that features the human body as a source of terror, and recent examples of these films may speak to societal attitudes toward the increased role of technology and biomedicine in shaping the human form. David Cronenberg, one of the foremost authors of the body horror genre, stopped working in horror during the rise of post-horror, but he returned to the genre in 2022 to much anticipation from critics and horror aficionados. His body horror films from the 1970s to the 1990s have gained a cult following and critical attention due to their depiction of corporeal destruction in technologically advanced worlds. His work has been hugely influential and films such as Videodrome (1983) and The Fly (1986) remain hallmarks of the body horror subgenre. His history of working in body horror with an interest in humanity’s relationship to technology makes him well-equipped to approach the posthuman and transhuman themes that have gained relevance since his hiatus from horror filmmaking. Crimes of the Future (2022), his first horror film released in the 21st 3 century, came at a critical time when audiences were still intrigued with art-house horror due to the post-horror movement. Cronenberg’s combination of philosophical musings and visceral depictions of bodily violence and turmoil fits the interests of horror audiences and allows him to comment on the evolved relationship between humans and technology. By closely analyzing David Cronenberg’s 2022 film, this project will attempt to determine filmmakers’ and audiences’ level of comfort (or discomfort) with the evolving relationship between body and technology. To accomplish this, the paper will first investigate major works in horror film theory to find analytical techniques that can be applied to a close analysis of the films. A few important tools utilized by the horror genre ought to be considered in this analysis are estrangement, the uncanny, viscera, and dramatization of the unconscious. Using influential theoretical work from authors such as Viktor Shklovsky, Mark Fisher, Robin Wood, and Linda Williams, this section will define important terms and concepts and examine how these scholars’ crucial writings enter into conversation with one another. Taking advantage of these analytical techniques, a case study of Crimes of the Future should yield connections to current bioethical debates influenced by posthuman and transhuman thought. By contextualizing the contemporary environment that cultivated these films and considering its influence on their thematic and aesthetic content, this thesis will be able to critically evaluate the role that posthumanism and transhumanism play in contemporary horror filmmaking. LITERATURE REVIEW In his seminal 1917 essay (published in 1925) “Art as Device [Art as Technique]”, Viktor Shklovsky argues that art has the capability of estranging audiences from the mundanity of quotidian experience. He referred to this phenomenon as 4 “defamiliarization” (or “estrangement”), a term that has attained great significance in debates over the function and value of art. Shklovsky asserts that defamiliarization is the most important aspect of any artwork: “Art is a means of experiencing the process of creativity. The artifact itself is quite unimportant” (Shklovsky 3). Another way to interpret this claim is that the content of any work of art is secondary to the experience of it. This is clear when he states, “And so, in order to return sensation to our limbs, in order to make us feel objects, to make a stone feel stony, man has been given the tool of art” (Shklovsky 3). No matter the message conveyed by an artwork’s content, Shklovsky believes that its value resides in how it impacts the audience’s perspective and throws askew their normal point-of-view, bringing one outside of the cultural and societal norms that inform everyday experience. This ecstatic experience is essential to works of art because it empowers audiences to reflect on the limitations of thought created by this status quo and ponder the boundless possibilities of chaos taboo to these norms. Though Shklovsky argues that defamiliarization is an essential property to every art form, it is especially the case for works in the genre of horror because extraordinary events commanded by both the supernatural and amoral human impulses are integral conventions to horror plots. Consider Shklovsky’s following quotation: “If the complex life of many people takes place entirely on the level of the unconscious, then it’s as if this life had never been” (Shklovsky 3). Shklovsky’s concern with the unconscious in this statement is significant as automatically performed mental operations are not done willfully, representing habits cultivated by normalizing socialization processes rather than personal beliefs. This is why Shklovsky makes the case for stepping out of the bounds of the everyday and having a novel experience that requires conscious mental operations to 5 process. For Shklovsky, art is the tool that can help people bring their complex thoughts to the fore and in turn enrich one’s worldview. In other words, Shklovsky advocates for art because it forces the audience to consciously use mental processes that not only affect one’s interpretation of the work, but also have the power to complicate one’s worldview by way of challenging normative, and often unconscious, mental processes. Horror takes advantage of this aspect of defamiliarization as it seeks to provide its audience with an experience miles away from the quotidian. By incorporating the grotesque and supernatural, horror depicts extraordinary and frequently impossible scenarios in order to create strong affective states in the audience. As this beloved genre continues to grow and infect popular culture, it is worth considering the value that it has as a powerful tool for estrangement. Estrangement in horror takes various forms in accordance with the norms that it challenges and the specific affective states it seeks to produce, two of which are the weird and the eerie. In his 2016 book The Weird and the Eerie, Mark Fisher defines these concepts that pervade genre fiction in contemporary popular entertainment. Fisher defines the weird as: “that which does not belong. The weird brings to the familiar something which ordinarily lies beyond it, and which cannot be reconciled with the ‘homely’” (Fisher 10-11). 1 This definition is in accord with many aspects of horror, as its central focus is to introduce the unfamiliar (for example through the supernatural) as something that produces fear. Fisher’s use of the word “homely” as incompatible with the Fisher’s use of the word “homely” in this description references Freud’s 1919 writing “The ‘Uncanny.’” Freud’s article attempts to define the German word unheimlich, which literally translates to “the opposite of heimlich [homely]” but is more commonly referred to as the uncanny (Freud 220). 1 weird is significant as home implies that there is a foundation, a safe center, which 6 stabilizes normative perception and gives a false sense of security in a chaotic and incomprehensible world. Fisher defines the eerie similarly as the weird, claiming that, “The eerie, by contrast, is constituted by a failure of absence or by a failure of presence” (Fisher 61). This failure of absence or presence describes an estranging sensation as well because it subverts conventional expectations for how one experiences the world. For example, consider Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, which utilizes the space in the Overlook Hotel to induce an overwhelmingly eerie sensation to viewers. Kubrick uses tracking shots of the empty space in the hotel to cue the audience to expect something horrific to appear. Many of these shots, however, lead nowhere in particular, in which case the failure of presence subverts the audience’s expectations. In equal measure, however, apparitions appear when they are unexpected, like when Lloyd the bartender materializes in the previously empty Gold Room. These apparitions are only one of the strategies the hotel uses to influence Jack Torrance, the crazed protagonist portrayed by Jack Nicholson. This agency exercised by the hotel is an example of the eerie being produced by presence where there should be absence. In this way, the eerie plays on audience expectations to create a disconcerting affective state that takes advantage of the terror of uncertainty by representing its diegetic world as a distorted version of everyday reality. The audience’s notions of reality are challenged when elements of the real world are absent from the narrative world, producing this state of uncertainty, confusion, and, in the interest of horror, fear. Though Fisher distinguishes the weird and the eerie, they both serve a similar function as they throw normal perception and the quotidian askew in an act akin 7 to defamiliarization. Considering the weird and the eerie as techniques of defamiliarization can serve as a lens through which one can analyze horror, especially the eerie because it produces questions of agency. The question of agency concerns who or what enacts the inexplicable changes that constitute an eerie situation in the text as well as inspiring audiences to question who is pulling the strings in their own lives. As Fisher puts it, “Since the eerie turns crucially on the problem of agency, it is about the forces that govern our lives and the world…those forces are not fully available to our sensory apprehension” (Fisher 64). This assertion that the eerie alerts audiences to imperceptible forces that direct and influence their livelihood describes an important feature of defamiliarization. As discussed earlier, Shklovsky argued that art forces one to use conscious mental processes that tear them away from the unconscious, automatic processes ubiquitous in daily life. Fisher similarly contends that the eerie notifies people of these invisible agents that control the unconscious yet remain invisible in the everyday. Fisher elaborates on this point in the following quotation: “The perspective of the eerie can give us access to the forces which govern mundane reality but which are ordinarily obscured, just as it can give us access to spaces beyond mundane reality altogether. It is this release from the mundane, this escape from the confines of what is ordinarily taken for reality, which goes some way to account for the peculiar appeal that the eerie possesses” (Fisher 13). This excerpt is significant to understanding Fisher’s work because he suggests that people are drawn to the eerie because of its release from mundanity and the quotidian. The eerie disrupts the repetition of habitual actions in daily life, appealing to viewers who can engage in conscious mental processes to evaluate who has agency in creating their perception of reality. This not only challenges the validity of universal assumptions and 8 habits that guide daily actions, but also depicts a space beyond humans’ limited conception of reality. This is essentially the goal of defamiliarization that Shklovsky promotes: to complicate one’s worldview by challenging normative perception. By tapping into the eerie, the best works of horror can accomplish this and challenge audience’s acceptance of the universal assumptions and unconscious processes that dictate their everyday lives. The question remains regarding what specific forces governing everyday reality are revealed by horror fictions, which can be answered with the help of Robin Wood’s dissection of the horror film through the lens of psychoanalysis. In his landmark 1979 essay “An Introduction to the American Horror Film,” Wood makes the case for horror as perhaps the most important genre in American film due to its ability to represent society’s surplus repression on the screen. Surplus repressions are the aspects of a society and culture that threaten the homogeneity of patriarchal Western civilization. The qualities of these groups are denied the opportunity to seep into the cultural consciousness because they do not fit into the homogeneous ideal, a few examples being female sexuality, the proletariat, other cultures, ethnic groups, alternative ideologies, homosexuality and bisexuality, and children. Wood asserts that this surplus repression is dramatized via the Monster, as he states, “central to [the horror film] is the actual dramatization of the dual concept the repressed/Other, in the figure of the Monster” (Wood 203). The Monster, as described here, is the physical entity in horror films that embodies a certain Other that is repressed in the real world. By playing out surplus repression onscreen, horror performs the function of the eerie, releasing the repressed from the unconscious. This process, however, gains added complexity when bringing Wood into conversation with Fisher. 9 Wood argues that the repressed, or the Other, surfaces in horror, while Fisher proposes that the eerie questions the imperceptible agents that control daily lives. These two conclusions are not mutually exclusive, however, because the eerie “can give us access to spaces beyond mundane reality altogether” (Fisher 13). These spaces outside of the familiar tap into the unconscious where the Other is repressed. The repressed Other that concerns Wood is not equivalent to the agents brought into question by the eerie, but is rather what the imperceptible agents repress. One can therefore conclude that these invisible agents can be loosely defined as patriarchal society norms, standards, and universal assumptions that are so ubiquitous that they guide daily life and cast out heterological material that complicate a homogeneous point-of-view. In his essay, Wood demonstrates horror’s significance to the landscape of popular culture by arguing that its classification as a low genre makes it an acceptable space to depict the heterological Other excreted to protect the overruling homogeneity in society. Wood posits that popular entertainment is a safe space to represent the culturally repressed because “one of the functions of the concept of ‘entertainment’—by definition, that which we don’t take seriously, or think about much (‘It’s only entertainment’) – is to act as a kind of partial sleep of consciousness” (Wood 203). Wood’s position acknowledges that horror, especially at his time of publication in the seventies, is often classified as a low genre which does not receive the kind of critical appreciation reserved for more artful works. Wood contends that this contributes to horror’s potency as it is accessible to large swaths of the population while unnoticeably forcing its audience to confront the Other that escapes daily consciousness. 10 Since Wood wrote this piece, horror’s standing in film criticism has grown, but its concurrent commercial growth maintains the relevance of his claim. Since horror is still consumed as entertainment, filmmakers reach large audiences who watch to be entertained and not think in depth about what the work aims to accomplish. Furthermore, Wood asserts that “the Monster is, of course, much more protean, changing from period to period as society’s basic fears clothe themselves in fashionable or immediately accessible garment” (Wood 204). This fortifies the importance of continuing to analyze horror as it reflects the surplus repressions paramount to each specific time period. We must now ask what surplus repressions are confronted in the form of the Monster in the current sociocultural climate. What horror themes are of particular concern twenty-plus years into the 21st century? The themes are of course numerous, but I want to pay particular attention to how the perspectives of trans- and post-humanism have seeped into the modern horror film. Trans- and post-humanism have emerged as powerful foci of academic study since essays such as Donna Haraway’s “A Cyborg Manifesto” started to question humans’ relationship to technological advancement in the 1980s. Interest in this subject seems to grow as smart computer technologies and artificial intelligence continue to proliferate, so one may wonder how horror addresses the anxieties surrounding these perspectives. However, before diving into trans- and posthumanism’s role in contemporary horror film, we should take a look at horror as a body genre, which has been the interest of seminal works by the scholars Philip Brophy and Linda Williams. Philip Brophy coined the term “body-horror” in his 1983 article “Horrality- The Textuality of Contemporary Horror Films.” Brophy describes body horror as a then emerging subgenre of horror that combines cinematic realism and gore to show the 11 impact of torture and violence on the human body. He argues that improved film technology and special effects have allowed filmmakers of the 1970s and early 1980s to render the conventions of horror more realistically, creating a spectacle appreciated by horror audiences who have been overfed horror’s limited tropes. Since the genre has become oversaturated with generic conventions, horror filmmakers must make films that acknowledge the audience’s knowledge of its tropes while still appealing to their thirst for frights and thrills. Showing the details of violence and bodily transformation in realistic detail, the body horror genre reengages audiences with the vicious tropes of the genre. A particular quote that sticks out from Brophy’s section on body horror reads, “the contemporary Horror film tends to play not so much on the broad fear of Death, but more precisely on the fear of one’s own body, of how one controls and relates to it” (Brophy 8). Brophy’s contention is most intriguing in his connection between the body and control. He suggests that horror creators are more interested in the destruction of the body than death as they explore humans’ relationship to their body. This is a common theme in the filmography of David Cronenberg, as his classic body horror films such as Videodrome (1983) and The Fly (1986) center on protagonists who undergo substantial bodily transformations that alter their behavior in destructive ways. Unfortunately, Brophy does not follow up on this claim and expound on the relationship of body horror and personal agency, instead focusing on how audiences read the text at a broader level. Still, his essay proved influential as the term “body-horror” persists as the subgenre it describes has gained popularity among horror audiences and critics alike. Another scholar who has thought of horror in terms of the body is Linda 12 Williams. In her seminal essay “Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess,” (1991), Williams describes horror as a “body genre” (Williams 3). Like the other body genres, melodrama and pornography, horror creates a spectacle out of bodies, which are almost always female, experiencing intense sensation or emotions of fear, pleasure, and pain. This spectacle is intended to impart similar affective states in the audience, mirroring the desired reactions of terror and disgust. Unlike Brophy, Williams is writing about horror at large rather than a specific subset of films, arguing that engaging the body is a vital part of the genre as a whole. Additionally, Williams sees bodies and excess in horror films as more than a reiteration of genre conventions, instead claiming that “dismiss[ing] them as bad excess whether of explicit sex, violence, or emotion, or as bad perversions, whether masochism or sadism, is not to address their function as cultural problem-solving” (Williams 12). This quote aligns Williams with Wood because she proposes that horror as a body genre depicting excess serves a significant function by exploring cultural perversions and taboos, which she describes as “cultural problem-solving” (Williams 12). Williams concentrates on gender and sexuality in her essay as cultural problems that horror works through in its spectacle of bodies, but her argument is perfectly relevant for other forms of cultural problem-solving, including trans- and post-humanism which question the boundaries of humans’ corporeal form. BACKGROUND ON POSTHUMANISM AND TRANSHUMANISM In order to contextualize the present moment in posthuman and transhuman thought, this project must look back on influential literature preceding the formation of these philosophies. Before these bodies of thought developed, fictional narratives reflected these ideas at least as far back as Mary Shelley’s landmark 1818 novel 13 Frankenstein, which depicts a scientist whose feat of assembling and animating a humanlike creature forces readers to question what defines personhood. Frankenstein continues to inspire artists and philosophers today who expound on its investigation of humanity’s relationship to science and nature, an area of especial interest to posthumanists and transhumanists. Another significant work of literature that is still cited by bioethicists today is Aldous Huxley’s 1932 novel Brave New World. Huxley’s book envisions a dystopia characterized by the dehumanization of people due to their reliance on technology and medicine. Technological developments such as the Feelies and the drug soma allow people to acquire any sensation and live in complete happiness, though they live in a strict caste system and behavior is dictated through the use of artificial hormones. The anxieties surrounding technological advancement espoused in this novel persist today, and John the Savage’s speech near the conclusion is an important jumpingoff point for bioethicists opposing posthumanism and transhumanism. These fictions and numerous others reflect the divisive views on the compatibility of human nature with increasingly potent and invasive technologies, views which continue to characterize the work of posthumanists and transhumanists as well as their detractors. It is also essential to consider scientific thought that foreshadows these various perspectives on biotechnology. Manfred E. Clynes and Nathan S. Kline’s article “Cyborgs and Space” (1960) is an important early example of scientists advocating for an evolved relationship between humans and machines in the vein of future posthuman thought. Clynes and Kline, scientific researchers in the fields of physiological instruments/apparatus and clinical psychiatry, argue that solutions to problems posed by inhabiting space can be solved most effectively by altering humans rather than the 14 environment. This means that people do not need to evolve via heredity to adapt to new environments in space, but rather can accomplish this “by suitable biochemical, physiological, and electronic modifications of man’s existing modus vivendi” (Clynes and Kline 26). This argument implies humans can step outside of the natural forces of evolution and instead participate in their own evolution by altering their biochemical character. Clynes and Kline elaborate on this point in the following quotation: “Space travel challenges mankind not only technologically but also spiritually, in that it invites man to take an active part in his own biological evolution” (Clynes and Kline 26). Though the transhuman and posthuman perspectives had not been defined at this point in time, Clynes and Kline describe a key tenet of these philosophies by suggesting that humans can play a role in making changes that could normally only occur through natural selection. Clynes and Kline also introduce an important term that would become central to transhumanist and posthumanist literature: the “Cyborg” (Clynes and Kline 27). 2 In order to survive in space, Clynes and Kline propose a number of adaptations to the human form that can be accomplished with “the incorporation of integral exogenous devices” (Clynes and Kline 27). Clynes and Kline believe that utilizing scientific developments to create these technologies will allow astronauts to continue performing self-regulating functions even when inhabiting such a hostile environment that is incompatible with human life. This gives the astronaut the advantage of being able to operate freely rather than spending all their time and energy on attending to machines that maintain regular homeostatic “Cyborg” is a portmanteau of the term “cybernetic organism,” which can be traced back to Norbert Wiener’s book Cybernetics: or the Control and Communication in the Animal and the Machine (1948) 2 15 functioning. Since people do not have to pay attention to these natural processes in their normal environment, Clynes and Kline see these activities as unnecessary and inefficient to those in space who are also undertaking a serious scientific exploration. They therefore propose that people adapt to space by implementing elements outside of the original human body into self-regulatory control functions, naming this form the “Cyborg” (Clynes and Kline 27). Clynes and Kline’s article influenced later posthuman and transhuman thinkers who adopted the term “Cyborg” to describe a human form that incorporates technological elements in the interest of improving human functioning. The body of thought of transhumanism shares several similarities with Clynes and Kline’s article, which is explained in Simon Young’s “Designer Evolution: A Transhumanist Manifesto (2005).” This essay makes the case for humans transcending the natural course of evolution and eradicating bodily limitations through the development and use of technology, just as Clynes and Kline advocate for scientific advances that enable humans to adapt to new environments. He introduces this argument via a prologue comprised of a hypothetical email exchange between Nature/evolution and the transhumanist society where transhumanists request that Nature improve its human “model” due to its various deficiencies and continue to confront the disagreeable Nature with the problem of human limitations. Though this is a rather gimmicky rhetorical strategy, it allows Young to convey the foundational belief of transhumanists that humans can be improved through their own intervention. 3 This is further argued in the following section where Young connects transhumanism to developments in various fields of science like genetic modification, where he declares, “Humanity will take evolution out The style of this introduction recalls earlier writings from Andrew Marvell, especially “A Dialogue Between the Soul and the Body” (1681). 3 of the hands of butterfingered nature into its own transhuman hands” (Young 38). To 16 accomplish this, Young supports the incorporation of numerous technologies and biomedical advancements into the human body. This is because Young believes that humanity can only take advantage of the possibility of a technological revolution by separating the mind from the body: “It is the emergence of self-consciousness—the mind’s recognition of its own existence distinct from the body—that ignites humankind’s battle to free itself from the limitations of the genetic prison” (Young 33-34). In this passage, Young emphasizes the mind as the most important element of the human. The body, however, is not essential to the mind’s functions and only serves as n impediment. Therefore, Young contends that people should do all they can to improve the body’s abilities and longevity so that the mind can flourish. The posthuman perspective shares some qualities of transhumanism, but also contains significant differences by placing less stress on the role of technology and thinking of the future human in a new way. Luca Valera, in his article “Posthumanism: Beyond Humanism,” distinguishes posthumanism from transhumanism, noting that transhumanists focus on how technologies can allow people to overcome natural limitations, while posthumanism sees people transcending the human form into a new and improved species that currently cannot be conceived in its entirety: “the posthuman one is characterized as something radically new, which clearly exceeds the human frontier, so much so as to no longer have the appearance of the Homo sapiens species” (Valera 483). This excerpt demonstrates that posthumanists do not wish to impose limitations on the future of human capabilities, to the point that they would be content with a different species evolving from the modern human. This perspective does not hold a privileged understanding of the human that exalts human nature, but rather supports 17 whatever configuration would allow people to excel in the future. Ihab Hassan expresses a similar sentiment in his 1976 keynote address “Prometheus as Performer: Toward a Posthumanist Culture?” where he suggests that “we need first to understand that the human form—including human desire and all its external representations—may be changing radically, and thus must be re-visioned” (Hassan 843). This illustrates the difference between transhumanist and posthumanist thought on the conception of the human form, as Hassan shows that transhumanists are open to an entirely new understanding of humanity while Young concentrates on prolonging and enhancing the current human form. Valera believes that technology can still be an important part of achieving this exalted state throughout the species, but it is not as vital to his perspective as it is to Simon Young’s. He describes his perspective on technology as follows, “technology is not configured as an extrinsic way through which the living being progressively eliminates its limitations, but rather, as an intrinsic possibility of the living being (in particular for the human being)” (Valera 486). While transhumanists focus on what technology can do to remove physical barriers preventing prolonged life, posthumanists like Valera value technology for its ability to help realize human progress and advancement. Hassan also discusses this issue in his work discussed above, where he explains that imagination and science are powerful instruments that can produce change. By combining these two elements, one can produce technology that enables humanity to evolve. Though posthumanism does not require that its ends be met by technology, both 18 posthumanism and transhumanism envision a future where the human form evolves along a new path that allows for the incorporation of technological development. THE ETHICAL DEBATE SURROUNDING TRANSHUMANISM As biomedical technology continues to rapidly advance, some are becoming worried about the impact that technological intervention in the human body will have on human nature. Biotechnology offers people the opportunity to take control of evolution, improving the human form and possibly altering human nature in the process. Transhumanism is a growing perspective that supports these developments because people will gain more freedom in deciding what kind of person they will be and what abilities they will have. However, bioconservatives see this as a threat to human dignity as human nature may fundamentally change and disrupt human notions of morality and justice. Investigating the debate between these two groups is essential to understanding the anxieties that many have for the future of the human form. Transhumanists are largely support of utilizing science to create technologies and medicines that can improve human beings. However, this perspective deeply concerns many people, including the bioethicist Leon Kass. Kass, in his 2003 article “Ageless Bodies, Happy Souls: Biotechnology and the Pursuit of Perfection,” argues that the possibilities provided by current and future developments in biomedical science could prove damaging to humans: “we recognize that the powers made possible by biomedical science can be used for non-therapeutic or ignoble purposes, serving ends that range from the frivolous and disquieting to the offensive and pernicious” (Kass 9). For many, this quotation recalls dystopian visions of bioterrorism and is perhaps reminiscent of films like Gattaca (1997) where success only comes to those who undergo careful and 19 deliberate genetic engineering. However, one of Kass’s greatest concerns is that biotechnology will provide “a means of trying to improve or perfect our bodies and minds and those of our children” (Kass 9). Though this pursuit of perfection may not seem to be as much of a threat as bioterrorism, this is actually what concerns him the most because its threats are harder to identify and express. These threats are manifold and do not seem as malevolent as the other concerns, making it harder to get to the root of the issue that biotechnologically achieved perfection poses. He acknowledges some of the obvious concerns of the pursuit of perfection driven by biotechnology, including safety, equitability, and liberty, but believes that the heart of the problem with this pursuit lies in the threat it poses to altering human nature. Human nature is often portrayed by transhumanists as something that can be improved, a proposition that bioethicists often oppose because they find that human nature is inviolable and that there is value to the human experience as it currently stands. This can be seen in Kass’s essay where he contends, “If there is a case to be made against these activities—for individuals—we sense that it may have something to do with what is natural, or what is humanly dignified, or with the attitude that is properly respectful of what is naturally and dignifiedly human” (Kass 17). Here, Kass argues that there is a fundamental problem with the transhumanist pursuit of perfection because it requires humans to change their nature. He claims that there is a dignity to being human that is corrupted by the implementation of these biotechnologies and that this pursuit is dehumanizing because of it. He elaborates to specifically assert that there is value to being an active agent of one’s own improvement and that this allows one to maintain their personhood. He further claims that “human fulfillment depends on our being 20 creatures of need and finitude and hence of longings and attachment” (Kass 27). This assertion demonstrates Kass’s perspective that perfection should not come at the cost of being human as the satisfaction that we feel today is due to perceived shortcomings of the human condition such as death and struggle. It is through being human that achievement matters, and Kass believes that humanity will lose this if the transhumanist future is realized. Francis Fukuyama similarly opposes transhumanism and posthumanism because of the threats they pose to human nature, stating, “the most significant threat posed by contemporary biotechnology is the possibility that it will alter human nature and thereby move us into a ‘posthuman’ stage of history” (Fukuyama 7). This assertion demonstrates Fukuyama’s belief that changing human nature will bring people into the era of the posthuman which is distinct from the current version of humans and less desirable. Fukuyama gives some practical reasons for this stance centered on safety, such as the complexity of evolutionary processes that follow “ruthless adaptive logic that makes organisms fit for their environments,” making it difficult to predict the consequences of human intervention in the physical form on the whole of the human species (Fukuyama 98). However, his greatest concern is rooted in philosophical principles and morality. He claims that “human nature exists, is a meaningful concept, and has provided a stable continuity to our experience as a species” (Fukuyama 7). The final clause of this statement is significant as it argues that human nature allows different generations to have experiences characteristic of the species despite inhabiting various contexts. His belief that human nature is important to people’s sense of personhood is also reflected 21 when he explains that his fear of the development of biotechnology is that it “will cause us in some way to lose our humanity—that is, some essential quality that has always underpinned our sense of who we are and where we are going” (Fukuyama 101). He elaborates to contend that human nature grants people this sense of what it means to be human because it is fundamental to our conceptions of morality: “There is an intimate connection between human nature and human notions of rights, justice, and morality…Human nature is what gives us a moral sense, provides us with the social skills to live in society, and serves as a ground for more sophisticated philosophical discussions of rights, justice, and morality” (Fukuyama 101-102). In this passage, Fukuyama describes the ties that human nature has to a moral sense which is instrumental to forming a human character that is cognizant of justice. If one accepts Fukuyama’s argument, it follows that the implementation of intrusive forms of biotechnology into human life has far-reaching implications as human nature and morality would begin to erode. This could negatively impact relationships between people as principles related to equity, justice, and morality are disregarded in favor of human enhancement. Transhumanists like Nick Bostrom oppose the stance taken by Kass and Fukuyama by portraying human nature as malleable and improvable. In his 2005 essay, “In Defense of Posthuman Dignity,” Bostrom argues in support of transhumanist methods of altering humans for the purpose of improvement. Bostrom succinctly summarizes the perspective of transhumanists in claiming that “it holds that current human nature is improvable through the use of applied science and other rational methods” (Bostrom 2). This quotation demonstrates Bostrom’s and the transhumanists’ support for improving human nature by using the tools at our disposal. Bostrom goes further to describe transhumanists view that “human enhancement technologies should be made widely available, and that individuals should have broad discretion over which of these 22 technologies to apply to themselves (morphological freedom)” (Bostrom 2). The transhumanist future that Bostrom illustrates here is one where people have freedom to alter their bodies in the interest of improvement as they wish. Bostrom further defends the transhumanist perspective from critics like Kass and Fukuyama by claiming that human dignity is compatible with improvements to the human form. In a direct response to an excerpt from Kass’s article that ends with the contention that “we need a particular regard and respect for the special gift that is our own given nature (Kass 20),” Bostrom asserts: “Transhumanists counter that nature’s gifts are sometimes poisoned and should not always be accepted...Rather than deferring to the natural order, transhumanists maintain that we can legitimately reform ourselves and our natures in accordance with humane values and personal aspirations” (Bostrom 3-4). This passage demonstrates Bostrom’s perspective that human nature should not be treated as so sacred that it cannot be improved. Especially since one can seek self-improvement along humane values, Bostrom supports the development of these technologies. Bostrom does not think that all biotechnological developments will be desirable, but he believes that with morphological freedom which allows people to decide what interventions are best for them, a humane transhumanist future is achievable: “it is crucial that no one solution be imposed on everyone from above but that individuals get to consult their own consciences as to what is right for themselves and their families” (Bostrom 5). Bostrom’s argument highlights the advantages that a transhumanist future can provide while respecting human dignity. These opposing perspectives on the desirability of biotechnologies illustrate the divisiveness of this issue. From Kass and Fukuyama’s arguments, one can see the 23 existential anxiety that the emergence of biotechnology has produced as they are deeply concerned for the future of human morality and its consequences on the entire species. Despite these concerns, transhumanists like Bostrom believe that the posthuman future will succeed with policies supporting morphological freedom. Biotechnology and the continued alteration of the human form will remain an issue in the public consciousness for the foreseeable future, making this bioethical debate a fertile area of investigation in contemporary horror film. A CASE STUDY OF CRIMES OF THE FUTURE Combining the critical thought on horror discussed earlier with the bioethical debate on the tenets of transhumanism and posthumanism, one can see how the relationship between biotechnological developments and the body might be a thematic influence in contemporary horror films. This paper will begin to investigate this phenomenon in David Cronenberg’s Crimes of the Future, a 2022 film that marked Cronenberg’s return to the horror genre. An elder statesman of horror cinema and idol of body or venereal horror, David Cronenberg had not worked in the genre since the 1999 film eXistenZ. In the 21st century, Cronenberg explored other film genres such as crime thrillers (A History of Violence released in 2005 and Eastern Promises in 2007) and dramas (Spider in 2002, A Dangerous Method in 2011, Cosmopolis in 2012, and Maps to the Stars in 2014). In the twenty-three years since Cronenberg worked in the genre he has so greatly impacted, the bodies of thought of posthumanism and transhumanism have gained increased prominence as people have experimented with new biotechnologies. His return to horror is an event worth analyzing as his influential depictions of the relationship between humans and their technology in the body horror genre have 24 frequently contained themes central to posthuman and transhuman philosophies. Crimes of the Future taps into many of the aspects of horror discussed earlier in its treatment of themes relevant to transhumanism and posthumanism, including estrangement and the uncanny. The film depicts human bodies in different contexts than the present, estranging the audience from their current relationship with their bodies. For example, Cronenberg shows people lacerating themselves and others severely, even performing surgery on others while they are in a waking state. Audiences would expect characters to cry out in pain from this activity, but the characters react much differently by treating this as a common activity that gives them pleasure and provides an artistic outlet. Since these reactions stray from normal human behavior in a significant fashion, they produce a sense of uneasiness in viewers. One could view this type of defamiliarization as producing the affective state of eeriness as it is discussed by Mark Fisher. Since the eerie subverts audience expectations and defies people’s conception of reality, Fisher contends that the question of agency is aroused by these affects. Brophy also suggests that control, a related concept to agency, is a central theme of body horror as one is forced to consider how much control they have over their own body. These concerns over the agency people possess in controlling their bodies pervade Crimes of the Future as their relationship with technology has shifted in the dystopic world of the film. As the human body undergoes major changes and biotechnology evolves, the issue of human nature becomes inextricable from this question of agency, which can be analyzed by first examining the state of biotechnology in the film. In Crimes of the Future, the role of biotechnology is not initially clear-cut. 25 Biotechnology has become an important part of society, but the human body has undergone changes which estrange this technology from its current context. In the current debate surrounding the ethics of putting these technological advancements into use, biotechnology is often seen as a means for enhancement of current abilities. However, in Crimes of the Future it is clear from the start that biotechnology has become essential to performing basic and essential physical processes due internal changes such as the growth of novel organs. This is exemplified by large devices that characters must use to eat and sleep. These devices do not seem to be enhancing the process as they are large and cumbersome, forcing the characters to struggle performing these basic tasks. As early as the eight-minute mark of the film, Cronenberg introduces the audience to this technology via the protagonist Saul Tenser. Cronenberg utilizes a 51-second tracking shot that pushes in on Tenser sleeping in his bed (7:48-8:39). However, Viggo Mortensen, who portrays Tenser in the film, is not the star of this shot. The shot opens to a dramatic, swelling score with the bed framed at the end of a hallway. All the elements of this shot direct the audience’s focus to the bed, which is suspended in the air by tentacles connecting it to the ceiling. The hallway walls cut into the middle of the shot and frame the bed in the center of the frame, where faint lights illuminate the convulsing bed. Mortensen is mostly obscured by the bed, whose grunts and movements give it the appearance of a living organism. This pseudo-organism seems to consume the resting protagonist because of these guttural noises and skin-like features that cover Tenser and delay his first visible appearance. By placing the bed in such a prominent position compared to the protagonist of the film, Cronenberg emphasizes the importance of this 26 technology and the immense influence it has over Tenser. When his partner, Caprice, enters the scene to wake him up, Tenser groggily asks who is there, conveying the strenuousness of making this simple response. Caprice, who is portrayed by the actress Lea Seydoux, inquires whether he was able to sleep and Tenser replies, continuing to groan, “I think this bed needs new software” (8:53). Tenser’s mention of software is the first definitive indication that this is a piece of machinery rather than a living being. Yet, this revelation does not expunge the audience’s discomfort and unease in seeing this technology at work. Since the device possesses characteristics of a living organism, there is a disconnect between what the audience sees and what they picture when they imagine a machine. This is a strategy of estrangement that Cronenberg frequently employs for the audience as machines and technology in the world of the movie do not have the same distinctiveness from living matter that audiences are accustomed to in their daily life. He designs similar devices in earlier films like Videodrome (1983) and eXistenZ (1999), where video game controls and video players take the form of fleshy material that connects to human bodies. The integration of the organic with the technological is, therefore, an important motif in Cronenberg’s filmography. In Crimes of the Future, Cronenberg utilizes this motif to show that biotechnology has advanced to a point in this dystopic future which changes the context surrounding the current debate concerning the ethics of implementing certain biotechnologies. Due to this estrangement, audiences must reevaluate their reservations about biotechnology as they discern its functions in the diegesis of the film. Cronenberg continues this scene to demonstrate both Tenser’s discomfort with 27 this device as well as his reliance on its functions. As Tenser awakes in his state of grogginess and discomfort, he further reveals the intended function of the machine, which he feels is failing him, by groaning, “It’s not anticipating my pain anymore” (9:03). From this quote, it is apparent that Tenser needs this device in order to sleep comfortably without pain. While there is current technology also designed to improve sleep (e.g. sleep apnea machines) none seem this intrusive save ventilators and other such devices for those in critical conditions. But Tenser is not in critical condition and seems to be waking from a regularly restless night. Furthermore, this machine has become the very bed in which he sleeps rather than an accompaniment. The platform that humans have typically slept on for centuries has been replaced by a device that takes a more active role in this process. This active role that the machine takes in facilitating sleep is punctuated by its life-like appearance in the way it moves and groans. The vital role that technology plays in human functioning is further demonstrated by the name of the company that produces it: LifeFormWare. This title suggests that biotechnology has become essential for human life just as many people today fear, though it has become integral for more basic functions than current fears like genetic engineering. Tenser uses a device designed similarly to the bed to be able to eat called the Breakfaster which also has features normally attributable to living beings. Just over twelve minutes into the film, Cronenberg reveals this technology for the first time similarly to his introduction of the bed, slowly pushing in to show the Breakfaster at work while Tenser struggles (12:29-12:59). Like Tenser’s bedroom containing his sleeping machine, this room is dark and unadorned with only a faint light illuminating the Breakfaster as it jerks him around and utters its guttural sounds. The Breakfaster is 28 designed like a skeleton with its white color, solid edges, and various patterned ridges. Tenser is undoubtedly uncomfortable and experiencing pain as he chokes down his food amid constant grunting accompanied by severe tension visible in his face and throat which even forces him to reach up and adjust his throat with his hand. This brief scene again demonstrates the necessity of this technology in addition to its undesirability. Tenser’s constant gagging and choking shows that he needs this machine to function in order to eat, a basic and instrumental process to human life. However, his discomfort in the scene reveals that this technology is being used only out of necessity while most people in the present can actually enjoy this activity. In the final scenes, Tenser must overcome the overwhelming influence that these technologies of the bed and Breakfaster have over his life, but more on that later. It is necessary to mention at this point in the film, after the Breakfaster and the bed have been introduced, that the audience has not yet learned that these technologies are not used by everyone in this society. Since human bodies have changed in this future, pain thresholds have skyrocketed leaving only a few, including Tenser, vulnerable to the pain that comes with sleeping and eating. However, these high pain tolerances have created problems of their own, as Wippet from the National Organ Registry describes in the scene where Tenser and Caprice visit the fledgling National Organ Registry for the first time. Wippet and Timlin operate the National Organ Registry and meet with Tenser and Caprice before their department has gone public due to Tenser’s fascinating ability to grow novel organs. In a scene laden with exposition, Wippet and Timlin shed light on the human biological developments that have created the need for this new department. This includes the nearly universal rise in pain tolerance, which concerns Wippet due to the 29 importance of pain as a warning sign for malignancies and deficiencies developing in the human body. This concern is clearly warranted as the need for cumbersome machines to perform basic human functions indicates that the body may be undergoing some change or is under some threat, which becomes increasingly apparent throughout the film. Indeed, in this very scene Wippet and Timlin explain the concerns over changing human biology that have led to the creation of the National Organ Registry. Tenser and Caprice enter this scene with some confusion as to the procedure that takes place to officially register new organs with the government, which leads to Wippet and Timlin, portrayed by Don McKellar and Kristen Stewart, discussing the necessity of the National Organ Registry’s security measures. Since the human form is seemingly in flux in this world, they argue that human nature as they know it is under threat. When Tenser observes that “human bodies are changing,” Wippet replies that “human is the operative word. Human evolution is the concern. That it’s going wrong. That it’s uncontrolled, it’s insurrectional. It might lead us to a bad place” (15:49). Wippet’s claim demonstrates the fear that change in the body equates to change in human nature, which is evidenced by using the word “insurrectional” as it portrays evolution as revolting against an established order. Furthermore, his concern indicates that human nature is something that ought to be protected and maintained as it is. This argument resembles that of bioethicists Leon Kass and Francis Fukuyama, but the equation has changed. Rather than fighting against the implementation of biotechnology and medicine that might alter human nature, Wippet’s stance promotes increased intervention in the human form in order to preserve a biology that is driven to change by evolution. Both 30 perspectives have the goal of protecting human nature, but the role of technological and medical advancements have, in a sense, flipped. The scene in the registry also helps establish another use of biotechnology: art. Besides the purely functional uses of biotechnology, increased intervention in the human body has become a means for creating art and establishing a sense of identity. This scene reveals that Tenser and Caprice are performance artists whose exhibitions consist of Caprice performing surgery on Tenser to remove the novel organs that he involuntarily grows. Timlin and Wippet demonstrate their admiration for their act and inform them that the National Organ Registry has been created in response to Tenser’s special ability. Though the public considers Tenser’s work performance art, Tenser tells Timlin and Wippet that he would expect anyone to remove novel growths that are unfamiliar to the human form. When Timlin seeks affirmation from Tenser for her statement that “our records indicate that you’ve been producing random and novel bodily organs for some years, but that you’ve had them consistently removed,” Tenser tersely replies, “Who wouldn’t?” (16:47). This response expresses that an important function of Tenser’s performance art is to regain control of the human body and, in doing so, to maintain a form resembling the current conception of a human being. As Caprice suggests immediately following Tenser’s response, these organs are often thought of as tumors rather than a functioning part of the human body. This is likely because they are not considered part of the human form, as Wippet’s earlier comments on human evolution indicate. In a time where human bodies are changing, Tenser’s interference in his bodily form is considered art because he uses it to establish an identity that is threatened by change. 31 These two reasons for using biotechnology, performing basic bodily functions and regaining control of one’s body via art, illustrate the complex relationship between humans and biotechnology in the dystopic world of Crimes of the Future. The current bioethical debate does not apply directly to the scenario presented in the film because biotechnology has proliferated for different purposes than it is currently used. Rather than allowing their bodies to evolve naturally, people like Tenser remove growths before ascertaining their function. It appears perfectly logical to do so as these organs are potentially dangerous because they have never before been part of the human form. However, in order to maintain this internal structure of the body, Tenser must offload basic human functions onto life-like machines as his body cannot perform these functions in the drastically changed context of their world. This means that biotechnology is utilized to prevent change in the body rather than facilitate it, estranging biotechnology from its current position in bioethical debates. Therefore, the arguments of thinkers like Kass, Fukuyama, and Bostrom must be analyzed for their core tenets rather than their practical implications in the present moment. A concept integral to both Kass’s and Fukuyama’s opposition to transhumanism is human nature, which is treated fascinatingly in this film. Transhumanists advocate for increased use and development of biotechnology in order to insert themselves in the evolutionary process, as Simon Young says in his previously discussed “Designer Evolution: A Transhumanist Manifesto,” “Humanity will take evolution out of the hands of butterfingered nature into its own transhuman hands” (Young 38). This attitude towards human evolution is not possessed by many of those in support of the use of biotechnology in the film, such as Wippet. The art community similarly works to make 32 modifications to their bodies as they see fit rather than on the terms of human evolution. This comes in many different forms, as artists use their bodies to create novel constructions such as the man who seals his eyes and mouth and attaches dozens of ears across his body (35:58), or Odile who carves thick, prominent scars into her cheeks and forehead (59:43). Though these artists are radically altering the human body, they do so in the interest of exerting their own agency on the body, which is clear from Tenser’s renowned acts that remove superfluous organs to simply allow Tenser to maintain his body and prevent change. Timlin also expresses this to a New Vice agent who questions the artistic value of Tenser’s performance art by claiming that “he takes the rebellion of his own body and seizes control of it. Shapes it. Tattoos it. Displays it” (33:10). This quotation demonstrates that artists like Tenser use their performances to carve out a selfidentity during a time when the human form is in flux. By exerting control over their physical form, Tenser and other artists are confronting frighteningly rapid evolutionary processes and restricting them from advancing to a precarious place. Crimes of the Future, however, does not only focus on artists who wish to impede evolution. There is also a group of people who are trying to cultivate the growth of organs that allow people to adapt to their environment and eat new materials for food, such as plastic. The opening sequence of the film presents a case of one of these individuals who can consume plastic and prefers to do so: a young child named Brecken. Brecken is pictured in this sequence eating the rim of a garbage can in secret. Utilizing an eyeline match, Cronenberg shows Brecken’s mother, Djuna, observing the child’s consumption soon after she has told him to not eat anything he finds on the beach. This command takes on a new meaning as the child surreptitiously snacks on seemingly 33 inedible material. The mother clearly disapproves, which is confirmed when she proceeds to suffocate her child with a pillow while he sleeps that night. Such a vicious and severe reaction taken against her own son demonstrates that the consumption of these synthetic materials is a highly controversial issue in this society. Even after his death, Djuna refuses to refer to her son as a human when calling someone whom she asks to notify the boy’s father, Lang (Scott Speedman), of his death. In this conversation, she requests that the person on the other end of the call tell Lang where he can find the “corpse of that creature he calls his son” (5:52). Djuna reaffirms this stance later in the film during a conversation with Tenser, where she calls him a “creature,” a “lizard,” and a “thing” that her husband “invented” (50:06). In this scene she does admit, however, that she indeed gave birth to him as if he were any normal boy, and she laments that a person with such unnatural abilities and compulsions could grow in her body. Though the boy is human, in this society there are evidently some people who consider the consumption of synthetic materials as an act that betrays humanity. There is, however, a group of people who support this new development, including the boy’s father, Lang. Lang is first pictured uncovering his son’s dead body from the bed that his mother suffocated him in, and he continues to play a role in the plot of the film as a proponent of humanity evolving in order to acquire the ability to consume plastic as his son did. Lang is a plastic-eater himself, and he is repeatedly shown eating a purple bar that looks like it could be some type of candy. However, while attending one of Tenser’s performances, a fellow spectator steals his half-eaten bar and takes a bite (29:09). The man, who is later revealed to be a New Vice agent, has a severe look on his face and starts eating right in front of Lang. This oddly turns into a staring contest as he chews, until he begins to visibly struggle as a throbbing and intense score commences. 34 He stumbles, then reaches with his hands and clutches his throat as he chokes on the substance. He collapses to the ground after spitting purple ooze and he convulses on the floor, as if having a seizure. Lang pays this suffering man little mind, taking his bar and abruptly leaving (30:32). The audience later learns that this bar is made of synthetic materials, and it has a fatal impact on those who do not have the accommodating biology necessary to consume plastic. Lang and the group of plastic-eaters to which he belongs manufacture these bars as food for people like him who have undergone a complex surgery allowing them to consume synthetic materials. One may reasonably question how this group of plastic-eaters has a different approach to the implementation of biotechnology in the body than other characters in the film. Like the performance artists detailed in the film, Lang and his acquaintances have used surgery to change the human body. In their case, they have arguably gone a step further in changing the structure of the human digestive system, which is a radical alteration to the physical functioning of the species. This would seemingly position the plastic-eaters as radical transhumanists who advocate for humans inserting themselves in the evolutionary process, like Simon Young. However, Lang believes that the plasticeaters’ cause supports natural evolutionary processes. In a conversation with Tenser and Caprice, Lang argues that humans are resisting change that is naturally occurring in their bodies. Not only are there people like Tenser who have bodies that are constantly producing new organs, but many like himself require products from LifeFormWare to perform basic, life sustaining functions. Lang specifically asks Tenser about whether the EatWare application works well for him, explaining how he considered using the 35 Breakfaster to ease his struggle to eat. As he describes it: “The way they adjust every part of your body to make chewing, swallowing, and digesting easy. At one point in my life, I thought that might be the answer…The eating problem that I have, Brecken had, and that you have…You’re a man who is fighting what he really is. Don’t you see? You should let your body lead you to where it wants to go instead of hacking it to pieces and displaying it inside some hidden museum like the bones of an extinct animal” (1:18:33-1:19:16) Lang demonstrates in this argument that he considers the Breakfaster to be a device that enables people to stick to old habits when they could be learning about what their changing bodies require in their current context. He urges Tenser to follow a more natural path to see what his body will become and how it will adapt without the influence of technologies like the Breakfaster that complete basic bodily functions for him. He further contends that their artistic endeavors are another use of technology that inhibits human evolution. This is evident in his response to Caprice’s protest that they are creating meaning out of an insurrectional and dangerous physical phenomenon, to which he replies, “Are you? Has it ever occurred to you that you might simply be interfering in a fantastic natural process that you should surrender to?” (1:19:30). This assertion characterizes Lang’s stance as one that is against any intervention that impedes the progress of evolution and strongly opposes the transhumanist principle that urges people to take control of evolution and sketch their own path forward. In this same scene, Lang defends his position and elaborates on the philosophy of the plastic-eaters by arguing that their modern context calls for this development so that they can gain nutrients from available and accessible resources. This helps explain why the plastic-eaters intervene in their physical form despite advocating for natural evolution. After Caprice questions why they all underwent an intense and complex surgery, Lang replies: “Because our bodies were telling us it was time to change. Yes? 36 Time for human evolution to sync up with human technology. We’ve got to start feeding on our own industrial waste. It’s our destiny” (1:24:05). Here, Lang asserts that evolution has been held back and now must quickly adapt to a world that has been vastly industrialized by humans. Feeding on plastic is one way to sustain life at a time when regular food resources are inadequate, and Lang believes that bodies are indicating a desire to advance in that direction. It is worth noting that his argument also cites the developments in technology as a reason for allowing evolution to run its course. In addition to the above quotation, he explains that in his various activities supporting plastic consumption he “wanted to show the world that the future of humanity existed and was good. Was at peace and harmony with the techno world that we’ve created” (1:25:47). These statements indicate two things. One is that the proliferation of technology is a result of their industrialized world which leaves synthetic materials as an available resource that they can try to convert into food. Secondly, this shows that Lang does not necessarily consider technology to be a negative, but he thinks that it should be used for adaptive purposes that align with the path that evolution charts for the species. This philosophy on the role of biotechnology is amenable to the plastic-eaters’ use of biotechnology as the surgeries they perform on themselves facilitate the digestive functions that human bodies are evolving to incorporate. In addition to this philosophy of the plastic-eaters, Lang supports his cause with proof of this change taking place naturally in the human anatomy. Lang’s evidence is his son, as he claims that he and his group have never manipulated his body or interfered with his natural development. This means that he has naturally evolved to be able to eat 37 plastic, which Djuna explains is accomplished with an acidic slobber that helps dissolve the plastic before he consumes it. Since Djuna murdered Brecken, Lang proposes to Tenser that he perform a live autopsy on his son for his next show. He wants the world to see that eating plastic is the next stage of human evolution which can be achieved naturally, and Tenser can provide him with a public platform to showcase this incredible phenomenon. Even though he has purportedly never manipulated Brecken’s internal organs, Lang guarantees that Tenser will find “a few surprises” upon examining his insides (40:02). Djuna agrees that Tenser would find a novel system of organs, saying that an autopsy will reveal “outer space” (58:25). Key to this autopsy is that it would be evidence that the humans can consume plastic without the surgery that Lang and his acquaintances used to obtain this ability. This would be proof that the plastic-eaters only had to intervene in their bodies to accelerate the evolutionary process and bring the natural course back on track after people had prevented this change from taking place for so long. If Lang is correct about the potential results of his son’s autopsy, then the public display could have far-reaching implications for the society depicted in the film. Cronenberg has already established the fear that multitudes of people possess due to their changing bodies. This fear has inspired the artists shown in the film as they attempt to regain control over their bodies via artistic expression. The fear has also manifested in law enforcement, which is represented in the film by the New Vice Unit that monitors the actions of the performance artists as well as the plastic-eaters. Tenser is able to gain insight into the objectives of the New Vice Unit due to his contact whom he reports to as an undercover agent. Through this agent, he learns that the authorities are seriously concerned about the plastic-eaters. The New Vice Agent, like Djuna, expounds on the 38 threat that the plastic eaters pose by contending that their actions do not accord with normal human behavior: “A normal human can’t eat that stuff…They are evolving away from the human path, Saul. It can’t be allowed to continue” (1:21:13). Here, the agent frames this issue as a problem of human evolution, but he takes the stance that the consumption of plastic is a dangerous activity that betrays human nature. He describes this as an evolution, but he distinguishes this change from human evolution, instead contending that this represents a shift away from humanity. These comments represent the position of the authorities in this society, and it is their goal to maintain human order and prevent the public from buying into the philosophy of the plastic-eaters who promote allowing the body to make these changes. Therefore, it is in the interest of New Vice to keep the public in the dark about the miracle of Brecken’s evolved digestive system. New Vice gets their wish during the autopsy where the audience murmurs in shock and appall as Brecken’s organs are revealed to have tattoos indicating that his body had been artificially manipulated. This is not the revelation that Lang promised, and he is as disturbed as anyone that Brecken’s body has been shaped by other people. While sobbing on the steps outside the performance, the technicians from LifeFormWare meet Lang and he explains to them that Djuna must have done that to him. They assure him that she didn’t intervene, but they do not use a comforting tone. Rather, they seem to insinuate that either they know what happened to him or that they possibly played a role in the display, and they then proceed to drill into his head and kill him. Tenser has some trust in Lang, so he suspects that the results of the autopsy were not the work of the plastic-eaters. His suspicions are confirmed in his following meeting with the agent from New Vice who admits that his unit had someone on the inside who 39 worked on Brecken so that the public would not learn about his unique anatomy. However, the agent concedes that Brecken’s organs developed naturally into an unrecognizable form: “the hell of it was that it was all natural. He was born that way” (1:33:38). New Vice could not allow the public to learn that people had the potential to change radically by evolutionary processes because this signals a threat to humanity as they know it. Saul, however, admits that these events have led him to start to believe in the plastic-eaters’ cause, though he chalks this up to a consequence of operating undercover while conversing with the New Vice Agent. The final sequence of the film is a critical final statement on the value of honoring human evolution no matter the role of biotechnology. These scenes demonstrate that Tenser has indeed become receptive to the ideas of the plastic-eaters as he attempts to abandon his machines and allow his body to adjust naturally to the pain and discomfort of sleeping and eating. This pair of scenes echoes Tenser and Caprice’s introduction as the first shot once again foregrounds the bed from LifeFormWare (1:35:53-1:38:52). Though not as dramatic as the score from the introduction of the bed, Cronenberg enters the scene with a similar musical theme that stirs drama as the camera hovers over the bed. The audience can also hear moaning from the start of the scene, though the motivation of these sounds is unclear as the bed appears empty. This is a significant contrast from Tenser’s introduction where Cronenberg frames him as being consumed by the large, animate device that appears life-like. In this final sequence, however, the moaning comes from offscreen, as the camera pans to show the audience that Caprice and Tenser are sleeping separately from the bed. Caprice rises and wakes Tenser from his sleep, telling 40 him that he was in pain. The experience of physical pain is a notable development in the film due to the exaggerated pain thresholds of people in this world, and Caprice even asks Tenser what it is like to feel pain. Her curiosity demonstrates the significance of this moment as Tenser has left his comfort zone by trying to sleep independent from his machine, thereby accepting the possibility of feeling pain. Instead of portraying the overwhelming influence of the bed as it is visually represented in Tenser’s first scene, this scene begins with an empty bed and then abandons the machine to focus on Tenser meditating on dreams and the sensation of pain. The final scene continues to echo the introduction of technology at the start of the film as Tenser again struggles to eat in the cumbersome Breakfaster device (1:38:521:41:06). The opening of this scene nearly replicates the first appearance of the Breakfaster aesthetically, pushing in from a side angle of Tenser in the same room as he shifts around the chair while intermittently grunting and gagging as he eats. Caprice then grabs a synthetic bar and her video recording device, offering the bar to Tenser. Tenser accepts the bar, then takes a bite while still seated in the Breakfaster. After chewing for a few seconds, the Breakfaster powers down, seemingly without any interference from Tenser or Caprice. The camera begins to slowly push in on Tenser as he settles. Then Cronenberg shifts the perspective to Caprice’s camera which positions Tenser in a closeup as he releases a sigh of relief and smiles faintly. A tear runs down his face and Caprice continues to push in for an extreme close-up. He closes his eyes. Once he opens them again, the camera settles and he gazes upwards and sighs again, mouth agape, as if he has experienced a profound moment of religious ecstasy. There is no sign of struggle, suffering, or discomfort, which is entirely dissimilar from the man who dies stealing a bite from Lang’s bar. The film then cuts to black, so this image of Tenser’s revelation 41 that he can consume plastic without the assistance of the Breakfaster is the lasting impression of the movie. In this concluding scene, Cronenberg portrays the successful evolution of humans without the influence of biotechnology. Once Tenser allowed his body to grow organs unperturbed by human intervention and tried to function without the help of biotechnology, his body performed a function that was previously impossible. Like Brecken, his body naturally developed to encompass this ability, validating the plasticeaters claim that they were supporting the natural course of evolution. These events provide an interesting twist on the idea of the cyborg by depicting a society that utilized technology to adapt to their world, but who may have impeded their natural adaptation abilities in the process. Consider the following quotation from Clynes and Kline’s article “Cyborgs and Space,” the document that originated the term “cyborg:” “The Cyborg deliberately incorporates exogenous components extending the self-regulatory control function of the organism in order to adapt it to new environments” (Clynes and Kline 27). This description of the cyborg makes it clear that the implementation of technology into the human form is a fundamental part of the cyborg. While Tenser utilized technology similarly in this film by performing basic life-sustaining functions with machines like the Breakfaster and extensive surgeries, he was ultimately able to adapt most comfortably by abandoning the machines. Tenser has his most fulfilling experience in the final scene because he does not try to use technology to adapt to his circumstances. Rather, he lets his body adapt for him. Cronenberg concludes the film by suggesting that man-made technology can actually serve as a barrier to development and adaptation, perhaps 42 cautioning audiences eager to enter a more technological world where people dictate their own evolution. CONCLUSION Manfred E. Clynes and Nathan S. Kline’s seminal writing on the immense possibilities the cyborg offers for scientists working to solve the problems posed by space travel informed the emerging transhumanist and posthumanist perspectives in 1960. They proposed utilizing biotechnology to assist people with regulatory functions that were difficult to control when adapting to a new environment. More than sixty years later, David Cronenberg imagines a future where this approach to biotechnology gives humanity a crutch that prevents natural evolution processes. There is a warning in Crimes of the Future of the consequences of over-reliance on technology. If people embrace Clynes and Kline’s conception of the cyborg, they may prevent their own bodies from adapting through natural processes. This happens to Saul Tenser, who makes artistic statements by removing his novel organ growths, which society considers tumors rather than functioning elements of the human anatomy. Many people, like Tenser, struggle to perform basic tasks while their bodies threaten to change, so surgery combined with increased reliance on biotechnology has become a solution that allows people to maintain their form while performing fundamental bodily functions. However, natural evolution has enabled both Brecken and Tenser to eat without these devices, presenting a potentially more sustainable solution to the issue of adapting to the changing world in the future. The different role that biotechnology plays in the society depicted in Crimes of the Future recontextualizes the bioethical debate taking place today. Human nature is a 43 point of contention in the current debate, as Nick Bostrom opposes the views of Francia Fukuyama and Leon Kass that human nature is compromised by the implementation of biotechnology into the human form. Bostrom believes that people ought to have morphological freedom and that this is compatible with human dignity. Kass and Fukuyama, however, think it is dangerous to go down this path because human nature has provided continuity to people’s moral and ethical judgments as well as their sense of justice across generations. In this film, one may question how to define human nature and where to draw the line between humans and a newly evolved species. Several characters find Brecken’s developments and Tenser’s organ growths to be inhuman. Due to this insurrectional human anatomy, characters believe they are defending human nature by interfering in the evolution process, rather than by allowing evolution to run its course as Fukuyama advises. However, the final scene shows that Tenser achieved intense satisfaction performing a fundamental, life-sustaining function only via organic methods. Ultimately, this finale challenges traditional conceptions of human nature by showing a character who naturally evolves with novel organs that both improve his physical functioning and alter the human form in a manner that concerns those invested in the value of human nature. Applying both Robin Wood’s approach to interpreting modern horror films and Shklovsky’s belief in art as a tool for defamiliarization, this case study of Crimes of the Future has unveiled the current societal anxieties concerning the continued development of technologies that interact with human biology. The worry that humans could lose their sense of identity in a technologically evolving world is reflected by characters in the film such as artists exerting control over their rapidly changing bodies. This attitude is also reflected by government authorities such as the New Vice agent, who prevents 44 knowledge of the functionality of evolved organ systems from disseminating so that humans will continue to rely on technology that enables them to maintain their current form. By portraying biotechnology with a different role in the world of Crimes of the Future, Cronenberg’s commentary cuts to the heart of the bioethical debate, demonstrating that biotechnology can be used to both accelerate and impede human evolution. Therefore, Cronenberg’s film suggests that the desirability of new biotechnologies ought to be considered in its modern context which dictates whether it is a tool to facilitate or inhibit progress. Furthermore, Cronenberg promotes a willingness to be open to change in the human body, especially change that is borne naturally. 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