Sorry for the minor mix-up, but given the crucial part this and his other short films of the time played in getting Cronenberg from one stage of his career to the next, I do feel its inclusion is a worthy one. I think you'll agree, once you've read this. If you haven't seen Secret Weapons, be sure and check it out here, before reading the following essay, as I'll be discussing it in-depth, and it will help if you've seen the film, for what will be obvious reasons.
For the record, it's only around twenty minutes long, so it's a minor investment of your time, but if you're a Cronenberg fan- and I can't imagine you'd be reading this, if you weren't- then you'll definitely want to see it, especially if you've never seen it before. It's a key entry in his cannon, IMHO, even if it's kind of only half-formed, in a way. Let's get started...
Both Stereo and Crimes of the Future were well-received on the Canadian Film Festival circuit, but neither of them really had a prayer of making it into movie theaters. Crimes did play briefly in Australia, and was later given a brief theatrical release in the US in the mid-80's, after Cronenberg's early successes, but neither film made much in the way of money, certainly at the time in which they were originally released.
In addition, Cronenberg had funded them via the Canadian government, who weren't too happy that he'd duped them, by leading them to believe he was using the money to write a book, not to make films. To that end, Cronenberg did try to write a novel after making the two films, and make good on his original promise, but just couldn't get into it- the film bug had already sunk its teeth into him, and there was no turning back.
Courtesy of Óðinn
As a compromise of sorts, he took a job for Canadian television, directing a series of documentary shorts that covered a variety of Canadian-centric topics, everything from one on locals suffering from Tourette's Syndrome to location profiles like Scarborough Bluffs and Winter Garden, an Edwardian-era stacked theatre and the last of its kind, to a profile on sculptor Jim Ritchie.
While these docs were done more to get by financially than for artistic merit, they weren't without some influence on Cronenberg's career, with the one on Ritchie notably inspiring a character (Benjamin Pierce) in his later film, Scanners. In addition, they offered a chance to hone his craft more and get that much better at proper filmmaking. Cronenberg would make nine of these documentary shorts in all.
Somewhere along the way, he reconnected with old college friend Lorne Michaels, who was still doing sketch comedy, but now in Los Angeles, though he took the occasional Canadian gig, mostly for extra cash to continue to finance his other, preferred gigs. One of them was for an anthology series called Programme X, which ran for three seasons from 1970 to 1973. The idea for the series was to promote new voices in cinema, with an emphasis on experimental works, which, needless to say, Cronenberg was more than qualified for.
After reconnecting with his old buddy, Michaels put in a good word with the producers of the series, and Cronenberg was finally able to get another narrative, non-documentary project green-lit. Perhaps sensing that this was a golden opportunity to show that he could work within a more conventional structure, for the first time he worked with an outside writer, friend Norman Snider (seen above)- who had also co-starred in Cronenberg's Crimes of the Future, and would go on to co-write Dead Ringers- hoping to temper some of his more out-there tendencies, albeit not by much.
Though, a la Stereo and Crimes, narration was still featured throughout- courtesy of then-readily familiar radio announcer and CBC (the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) broadcaster Lister Sinclair, seen above- the resulting episode, Secret Weapons, was undeniably a step forward in the progression of Cronenberg's career as the first of his longer works to feature properly recorded dialogue between characters, a wide variety of locations, and more professional editing. In other words, it was the first thing he'd done that looked and felt like a proper film.
The year is the then-futuristic 1977- the film was shot in 1972- where the world has erupted into a Civil War, with two main sides emerging: a corporation that is ostensibly home to some of the finest scientific minds in the world, but which has actually started to embrace more fantastical means, notably that of magic. Yep, magic, as in pulling rabbits from hats and sawing girls in half magic, though I should point out I don't mean this literally, as no one ever emerges clad in a tuxedo doing tricks or the like. (I feel the need to point this out, as it being a Cronenberg film, one never knows.)
The corporation, a former pharmaceutical company, has effectively taken over, using their drugs to keep everyone in line, while, at the same time, doing their best to stomp out any would-be revolutionaries along the way. The film begins with a scientist, known as "The Wise Man," played by Snider himself, being brought in for an interview, and also to investigate a new drug he's working on that may have the ability to enhance the violent tendencies and physical capabilities of those who take it, creating a sort-of "super soldier" in the process.
I probably don't need to tell most of you that this is a concept that has been explored many times in sci-fi films over the years, notably in The Terminator series and the Captain America movies, as well as the likes of Universal Soldier and Hardcore Henry. It's a cool idea, and, to Snider's credit, he got there before a lot of others- though I seem to recall Ed Wood's Plan 9 From Outer Space having a similar plot-line as well, albeit there, it was the dead revived to serve as mindless "soldiers" in the war against humanity. I don't doubt that there are plenty more examples where that came from. Still, points for getting there early on in the game.
However, the execution does leave something to be desired. As with previous efforts, Cronenberg leans too heavily on narration, and even when he does feature dialogue, it can be stilted and not reflective of the way in which people really talk. Granted, I'll allow some of it is clearly for effect, such as what is easily the highlight of the short film, an encounter between The Wise Man and Mr. Lee (Ron Mlodzik, also in both Stereo and Crimes), who is there to determine whether the former has been "compromised" by corrupting influences while on hiatus for some unspecified reason.
Meanwhile, it is also clear that outside influences are corrupting Mr. Lee and company, as shown literally when, apropos of nothing, a giant feather duster (!) enters into the frame and sweeps across Mr. Lee's face, for no apparent reason, except maybe to indicate the aforementioned "magical" influences at work since The Wise Man last interacted with the corporation. It's a surreal, oddball moment, and totally Cronenbergian, from start to finish.
Alas, it's one of the only such moments that really makes an impact. The rest is pretty dry in tone and, as with his prior feature-length work, has a lot of pseudo-scientific jargon and sci-fi-ish nonsense being discussed that's hard to make heads or tails of, least of all in a mere twenty-one minutes. However, some of it is potentially fascinating, making one wonder if, perhaps if they had more time to explore the subjects at hand, it might not have been that much better of a film.
To give another example, the opposing force of the corporation is a motorcycle gang (!) - shades of something like Knightriders or even the latter section of Romero's Dawn of the Dead- which The Wise Man seeks an invitation to, after the meeting at the corporation doesn't go to his liking. The Wise Man meets representatives of the gang at an amusement park, where he is then subsequently taken to an undisclosed location to meet with members of the opposing forces, who, as it turns out, aren't really a "force" at all, but rather, a non-violent group that simply want to be left to their own devices and not be part of what the corporation is up to.
However, the gang is every bit as paranoid and mistrusting as the corporation, it seems, as revealed when they imply that they have no intention of letting The Wise Man go, even though they aren't particularly interested in his drug, unlike the corporation, who were very interested. Had Cronenberg and Snider been allowed more time to flesh all of this out, they might have had something genuinely interesting, but, in the end, it's merely a spark of a good idea, rather than a fully-realized one.
I liked that the leader- or one of them- of the motorcycle gang was a woman (Barbara O’Kelly), and that her approach to the Civil War at hand was more of a studied, relaxed, take-it-as-it-comes attitude than that of the more intense corporate world, who are antsy and demanding and even more paranoid than the biker contingent. I also liked the bits where The Wise Man toys with both the representative and the security guard when they prove evasive to his questions, something that continues with Mr. Lee, but to a much more satisfactory end.
In short, there are good ideas here, and you can clearly see how Cronenberg got from Point A, his early, sillier work; to Point B, his more experimental, heavily-narrated first few feature-length films; to Point C, more "normal" narrative features that function much more like any feature of the time would work. In other words, they went from sketches of ideas to actual fully-formed ones that would play in theaters, unlike his early work, which didn't have a prayer of mainstream acceptance, and still don't, quite frankly.
This short shows how he got from where he was to where he would gain acceptance on a much more across-the-board level, if still firmly entrenched in the avant-garde and left-of-center at this point. As such, it's a key component in the story of Cronenberg which I felt was well-worth exploring, even if it isn't quite there yet, narratively. It's a piece of the puzzle that a lot of fans may not be aware of, let alone have seen before, and is incredibly important for that reason, almost in spite of its obvious shortcomings.
Secret Weapons does, however, have its moments, including the aforementioned bits, as well as some interesting imagery and a boffo soundtrack from a Canadian band called Syrinx, which sounds like what would happen if you combined proto-new wave, a la Can or Neu, with the free jazz stylings of a Miles Davis type. It sounds pretty awesome, in my estimation.
For that reason, along with the appearances of some familiar faces to Cronenberg fans, and some essential ideas, particularly in regards to sinister scientists, that will ring familiar to longtime fans, it's essential viewing for completists, for sure. Being for TV, it's rudimentary and subdued by Cronenberg standards, but it's also important for that very reason, as it taught him how to rein in his more out-there tendencies to formulate something more palatable for mainstream audiences, at least to a certain degree.
Join me next time for Cronenberg's big breakthrough- this time for real, lol- the amusingly crazy horror flick, Shivers, aka They Came From Within. See you then! 😜
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