The Boy Who Cried AIDS

If the concurrent production of Eyes Wide Shut and Fight Club was no mere coincidence- Kubrick’s notoriously back-breaking perfectionism notwithstanding- Crash arriving three years earlier on the (not-so)-erotic-thriller scene was surely Cronenberg’s clairvoyance. Nevertheless, to an extent like no other mainstream Anglo-American features heretofore released, controversy, heavy censorship, and moral reprehension would plague the immediate commercial, critical, and public responses to only the former and latter films, reinscribing the (Greco-Roman derivative) patriarchal liaison between sex and violence that these three directors critique to varying degrees of failure. While Melissa Iocco at the University of Adelaide has already succinctly probed the “Masculinity and Perversity in Crash and Fight Club,” my argument reroutes some of her key points onto the maps of Crash and Eyes, contrasting the (responses to) representations of taboos and violence as well as their discourses on hetero/homosociality (anticipating sexuality) and the AIDS crisis. Particularly, this argument determines the extent to which Iocco’s assertion that “[t]ensions and anxieties surrounding how the social, sexual, technological and economic conditions of a particular time affect understandings of masculinity– a consistent feature of the Gothic genre– is a consistent concern in Fight Club,” also applies to Cronenberg and Kubrick’s films (50). Resuming last month’s episode on Director’s Fight Club, this essay ultimately presents an argument against Cronenberg’s petty (mis)characterization of Kubrick as a commercial hack rather than a genre-commanding auteur.

Sex and/as Power 

According to most studies of Crash and Eyes, the films’ primary motif is their relation of sex and/as death (Barker 201; Deleyto 29; Iocco 48), but when decontextualized from CRT and feminism’s Foucaldian relation of sex and/as power- and thus violence, both bonds encouraging analyses of social alongside physical death- this raison d’etre simply reductively reinscribes the oppressive status quo of dichotomized gendered/sexual labor and relations. Celestino Deleyto essayed to circumvent this circularly incomplete verdict, prescribing the “neglected” perspective of “sex and love… sex as love” (29) to analyze Kubrick’s film and also- probably primarily- mediate all the hullabaloo surrounding its denouement. Unfortunately, kinship and love- in all its dimensions- in a(n Anglo-cishetero-) patriarchy, are also structured on uneven power dynamics, so his intimation that these two relational perspectives would necessarily produce two separate conclusions- or that by approaching/presenting an argument from one perspective, the other will not expose itself in some way- is dubious at best; in other words, rather than assuming the perspectives of “sex as/and [death/commerce/love]” must be separately assumed and deployed, he could have read sex and/as love and/as death, with the implication that within capitalism anything can become commercialized. Sex is not special here just because of its bourgeois banishment from the “public sphere.” (Barker 186) This is where and how Cronenberg artfully destroys binaries- clearly savvy the intimate link between queerness and footloose public/private spheres- even whilst he frustratingly upholds others.

Anthony Barker carries Cronenberg’s baton even further, decrying commercial cinema’s reluctance for “a frank exploration of sexuality, preferring to address it tangentially,” through the “erotic thriller,” among other genres (186). Barker suggests “perhaps” in Crash Cronenberg “wanted to tell the story exclusively through the sex…” (199) as Michael Winterbottom admitted with his 2004 erotic feature 9 Songs, one of the two erotic flicks Barker analyzes in his paper. Contextualized within his underlying investigation of post-70s challenges to social/sexual taboos in Hollywood, this remark suggests (confirms) that Cronenberg has done precisely what Janet Maslin charged in her 1999 New York Times review: “explore a newly pornographic realm of screen sex.” Barker sees this in Winterbottom’s film too: “all that is essential is in the room with them and present in the sex,” with the one caveat that for Cronenberg, the room is a car. He introduces his main characters- James and Catherine- in very erotic scenes observing their extramarital affairs. It is then revealed in the fourth scene that he was actually visualizing the couple relate the affairs to each other while Catherine gazes at the bustling Toronto highway, and this is what first gets them all hot and bothered.

It is very important to note here the parallels between the openings to Cronenberg and Kubrick’s films, (but also that Kubrick began shooting Eyes when Crash was already at Cannes). James and Catherine represent exactly what kind of marriage Dr. Harford fears becoming: not just an open marriage, but one reveling in its sexual excesses because sexual desire and passion are so lacking at home. Bill practically rushes Alice out the door to get to Ziegler’s party while neglecting his wife at every turn: he doesn’t appreciate her nude figure like the anonymous man does Catherine- punctuated by Alice and Bill’s shots in the same exact place being separated by an intercut of the city streets- nor does he listen to her, preoccupied with his own reflection in the vanity mirror when she asks how she looks while constantly reminding her they’re running late. There is no chemistry between this real married couple at all, yet we still see the cusp of a sex scene- initiated by Bill- after they return from Ziegler’s party. (00:19:50) Why? Bill won’t admit it, but he did in fact get hot and bothered by the models, and perhaps even subconsciously from the Hungarian cuckolder, or even Mandy’s unconscious body. 

He clearly admits that he doesn’t believe in asexual heterosocial relations during his argument with Alice (00:26:25), and despite protests to the contrary, she is right for charging him with hypocrisy for then entertaining the attractive models. She is supported by the story when the masked women later escort their chosen partners down the halls in a manner very reminiscent of these two models escorting Bill to an unknown location before being interrupted by Mandy’s O.D. In the only scene of temptation in which Alice is placed, heavily intoxicated, she exhibits much more self-control than Bill does here and in every ensuing encounter. Both of Kidman’s performances in the aforementioned scenes between the couple following Ziegler’s party (when they fuck after the party and then when they argue after smoking) suggest that she has already silently adopted James, Catherine, and David’s mindset: channeling the sexual energy from extramarital affairs- or at least the idea of them- into the sexuality of one’s marriage. However, because the Harfords must rely on deception for a happy marriage as the Hungarian suavely surmised (00:09:40), rather than deviance like the Ballards, Alice is not happy. Even though their performances during the high argument scene is so laughable, the heightened expressionism evinces how the party has been weighing heavily on Alice, staying home all day while (she imagines) Bill feels up on his patients.

Cronenberg and Kubrick are in accord here- James gets hot imagining his wife getting railed in an aircraft hangar, even more than Bill gets while imagining the Hungarian wanting to fuck his wife after getting teased by the models- but their stories expose different masculinities: Bill cannot imagine Alice wanting to fuck the Hungarian- or the sailor, or anyone else- let alone some random man in an aircraft hangar. The misogyny of Cronenberg’s film is largely formal and metatextual whilst Kubrick is attempting to depict the diegetic structural nature of misogyny within a patriarchal society; Alice realizes that she is not a full subject to her husband, whereas subjectivity is mutable- or just exceptional- in Cronenberg’s world. For the Film International Journal, Sabine Planka explains how Kubrick is unable to write female subjectivity outside of victimhood, even when supposedly freed in the end,

In Kubrick's films the game only ever involves men who are in control of the system, or men and women. A woman on her own is never permitted to explore and try out an experimental set-up designed especially for her. But that would probably not fit into Kubrick's image of a world made and dominated by men, a world which he denounces, and in which women are granted the role of victim, or in any case a background role… (Planka 65)

In each auteur’s foray to reconstruct (Anglo-cishetero-)masculinity through polygamy and sexual permissiveness, the queerness (or queer potentialities) of these liberal sexual practices nearly hijacks his base narrative of the negotiations of heterosexual marriage. 

Gothic (Re)Solutions: Conquering Freudian Fear of Homosexuality Heterosociality

Where Eyes discourses homosexuality “tangentially” through comedy, Crash explicitly weaves homosexuality and queerness, particularly sadomasochism, into its (visual) narrative. Nevertheless, each director explicitly reacts to the AIDS crisis and the resultant mass hysteric effect on interpersonal- particularly homosocial- relations. This directly relates to their motif of (saving, in some capacity) the institutions of heterosexual marriage/nuclear family, extramarital affairs hijacking most of the exposition and narrative before the domestic couple returns for resolution/reconciliation. Planka explains that Kubrick’s films routinely,

…probe boundaries [and “the limits of human life” (64)]: what happens when people are left completely to themselves, with no direct human contact with the outside world? How do the relationships between these people change? When does a person become insane, and how do they deal with insanity? (Planka 57) 

For Bill, the boundary- the mansion snowed-in the Rocky Mountains- is monogamous marriage, trapped in homosocial (but never homosexual) relations and trapped out of heterosexual (but never heterosocial) relations.

In every interaction with other men, Bill’s masculinity- namely his security of his own heterosexuality and impulses- is checked. In a sense, Ziegler is to Bill as Vaughan is to James; Nathan Abrams, another film academic and Kubrick buff, calls Ziegler a Jewish middleman while Iocco calls Vaughan a vampire. It is not made very apparent how long Dr. Remington knew Vaughan before the accident, but her comment- staring with James in awe at Vaughan’s PSA- that “he was a specialist in international computerized traffic systems. I don’t know what he is now,” (00:26:35) before cutting to a closeup of Vaughan’s sweaty face explaining the upcoming, unprecedented (for us) reenactment of “celebrity car crashes,” (certainly a more original idea for film than a fight club or satanically-ritualized, vanilla-flavored orgy) emphasizes that what is most important (desirable) is Vaughan’s passion, which, although fundamentally nonsexual, is converted into pure horny horsepower in pure CronenFreudian fashion. In Crash there are no real, pure hetero- or homo-social relations because every foreground character has sexual liasons with the others; a heterosexual, married man’s masculinity is never about avoiding (hetero- and homo-)sexual encounters by any means necessary- such as Bill’s comically stoid reactions to the homophobic drunk college students and the flirtatious gay hotel receptionist- but accumulating as many sexual affairs as fast as possible. In such a narrative- obviously metaphorizing queer subcultures- the relation to the AIDS panic is undeniable. 

Kubrick’s approach to addressing AIDS directly attacks homophobia, Bill stumbling into Domino the sex worker right after being harrassed by homophobes on the street. In what many critics interpret as an attempt to restore his honor and masculinity, he decides against his best judgement to take her up on her offer. This is the closest Bill comes to full infidelity (two kisses could count I suppose, but it does not measure up to a decade of marriage and a little tyke), and it nearly costs him his life; Domino is later revealed HIV-positive. Kubrick is extremely respectful with his portrayal of Domino- a rarity in the 90s portrayal of sex workers- so the reveal reads less as a convenient yet rather sexist and classist arc for her character, but moreso an indictment on homophobic scapegoating surrounding the AIDS panic. This is where Cruise’s vapid, golden retriever persona works charms; his later scene with the clearly flirtatious gay receptionist establishing that despite the immaturity of his night escapade for revenge sex, he is not immature enough to internalize or regurgitate the tangential homophobic harrassment he has experienced.

What is unclear, though, is whether heterosocial relations can now exist in Bill’s world? If not, then this model of heterosexuality- of monogamy and marriage as well- will never last, not so long as Alices realize they would be happier as Catherines, or Dr. Remingtons- more upset by a video buffering than her husband dying. This is not to say that Cronenberg’s model is very liberatory either; in my opinion, he presents- by chance or by design- Catherine and Helen as the true vampires. After Helen introduces James to Vaughan and vehicular fetishism- even whipping her breast out at the accident, a visual motif since Catherine’s first appearance- Catherine brings him to a sexual climax- vaginally sucking his cum instead of blood- by describing, in depth, the homosexual acts she imagines him performing on Vaughan. Barring the first ravenous sex scene between James and Helen, this is likely the most passionate sex scene in the film, foreshadowing the acts the two men later perform on one another. Unfortunately, again, dialogue replaces action. Cronenberg understands that the censorship and moral conservatism of the industry have not caught up to his anachronistic sensibilities- proven by Ted Turner delaying its release in the States for a whole year- so the farthest he goes is depicting a direct indictment on AIDS-related homophobia: James sucking Vaughan’s bloody tattoo. One of Cronenberg’s first steps outside of independent production into the mainstream welcomed him with a delayed release and the Special Jury Prize at Cannes, “for originality, for daring and for audacity,” won with loud boos from the crowd and several “passionate abstentions,” according to then-jury president Francis Ford Coppola. While I and critics watched the unrated version of Eyes Wide Shut, the American public watched a very sanitized version with nude bodies- added in post through VFX- standing in front of all the already-watered-down spectacles of fucking.

While most analyses of these films focus on the hypocritical controversy and censorship, their own denouements prevent any serious critical takeaways for deconstructing contemporary (hetero)sexuality. While Deleyto offers a promising interpretation of Kubrick’s film, claiming that “sex is for Alice the most immediate way in which to seal their reconciliation and to express their love for each other,” it still begs the question of whether Bill has advanced beyond his childish emotional intelligence (37). Deleyto declares no, Bill is “just as far as he was at the beginning from being able to incorporate a healthy view of sex into his idea of romantic love,” but the problem is precisely this tunnel vision of sex and/as love. (38) Deleyto (and Kubrick, were he still here) would serve well to look up ‘allonormativity,’ as the issue with their and CronenFreud’s fascination with the psychosexual is their assumption that every human desires sex. Despite the differences between Kubrick and Cronenberg’s worlds, the constant is the men’s underlying assumption that everyone is in fact a sexual being. This assumption thus allows them to construct every facet of masculinity in relation to sexuality, but this prevents any meaningful exploration of heterosocial relations. As much as they wish to distance themselves from Bill and his immaturity, it is clear from their films that they too believe in any given social interaction, the potentialities of a sexual encounter is at the fore of a man’s mind. The nagging insistence from his conscience that he must not have a homosexual encounter for fear of forfeiting his masculinity, inasmuch as his conscience reminds him to not have a heterosexual encounter for the same reason- whether this leads to social death via ostracization and shame (Bill being called to the principal’s office at the orgy) or physical death from AIDS- means that what he ought not to do becomes a rather debilitating desire. As Roger Ebert describes Crash, “It is that trancelike state when you are drawn to do something you should not do, and have passed through the stages of common sense and inhibition and arrived at critical velocity. You are going to do it.” What kind of trancelike state was Bill in, then, staring in silence at the group of male college students after being pushed around? (00:46:15) Rage? or Lust? If he could redirect the former into the latter within a matter of seconds for a sex worker, then are they all that different? Are sex and violence? Homosocial and Heterosocial? Homo- and Hetero-sexual? I don’t know, but I know James and Vaughan certainly would have fucked those men.

Works Cited

Barker, Anthony. "On Not being Porn: Intimacy and the Sexually Explicit Art Film." Text Matters, vol. 3, no. 3, 2013, pp. 186-202. ProQuest, http://libproxy.usc.edu/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/on-not-being-porn-intimacy-sexually-explicit-art/docview/1558537255/se-2.

Deleyto, Celestino. “1999, A Closet Odyssey: Sexual Discourses in ‘Eyes Wide Shut.’” Atlantis, vol. 28, no. 1, 2006, pp. 29–43. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41055227. 

Ebert, Roger. “Crash (1997).” Roger Ebert, 21 Mar. 1997, www.rogerebert.com/reviews/crash-1997. 

Ebert, Roger “Eyes Wide Shut (1999).” Roger Ebert, 16 July 1999, www.rogerebert.com/reviews/eyes-wide-shut-1999. 

Iocco, Melissa. "Addicted to Affliction: Masculinity and Perversity in Crash and Fight Club." Gothic Studies, vol. 9, no. 1, 2007, pp. 46-56. ProQuest, http://libproxy.usc.edu/login?url=https://www.proquest.com/scholarly-journals/addicted-affliction-masculinity-perversity-crash/docview/216245622/se-2. 

Maslin, Jane “An Orgy of Bent Fenders and Bent Love.” Web Archive, 1 Feb. 2023, web.archive.org/web/20230201233624/www.nytimes.com/1997/03/21/movies/an-orgy-of-bent-fenders-and-bent-love.html. 

Planka, Sabine. “Erotic, Silent, Dead: The Concept of Women in the Films of Stanley Kubrick.” Film International (16516826), vol. 10, no. 4/5, Sept. 2012, pp. 52–67. EBSCOhost, https://doi-org.libproxy2.usc.edu/10.1386/fint.10.4-5.52_1.