We are drawn to fictional danger and crave for the stimulation of adrenaline. As much as we shudder when faced with depravity and filth, we can also find ourselves in awe of the boundless horror in the annihilation of beauty. And as such, I have recently found myself unhealthily obsessed with Brandon Cronenberg's films. They suck me with their captivatingly dangerous nature. It was not dissimilar to falling into the abyss, as it was an otherwise indescribable plunge. As I dove deeper and deeper into his filmography, I was unable (and surprisingly unwilling) to extricate myself.

Antiviral presents a dark future where the general public's pursuit of celebrities has gone from fanatical to perverse. All things related to celebrities have become the targets of obsessed collectors… including their illnesses. Employee Syd March works in a company that sells celebrity's illnesses. After attempting to exploit the system, a series of unfortunate events changes his life forever.

With its flexible use of blood and its morbid fascination with celebrities, Antiviral has achieved a richness and abundance that many sci-fi horror films unfortunately lack. I am obsessed with its decadent and mysterious background, its disturbing shaking shots, its juxtaposition of bright and dim lighting in its most macabre scenes, and its effective score that employs all kinds of intricate and delicate instruments. Every element exudes a chilled and preternatural atmosphere, which demonstrates the aestheticism of sin to the extreme.

In Antiviral, the fear of aging, disease, and especially death, has transfigured itself into parasitism, mutation, and grotesque transformation. The monster of a film that results has had a profound impact on my view of morality and ethics. This is the effect of the Cronenberg I love, and I oddly cannot help but look forward to this haunting, inevitable future.

10/10