Splice: One man's critical appraisal

There are a great deal many reasons why Splice is such a breath of fresh air to theatrical horror. It's devoid of insipid, superficial teenagers and their immature antics. It features remarkably strong actors in all the lead roles whose dedication and integrity to their craft produces performances of such a caliber rarely seen in the genre. It boasts wildly imaginative creature design work from the preeminent practitioner's of practical effects, the illustrious KNB. The Director has deft skill behind the camera and took the time to compose beautiful shots and create a unifying visual atmosphere throughout disparate locations. Whether or not you appreciate the manner in which the film's story plays out is nearly irrelevant in the face of so many inarguable pluses. The reviews I've read have picked up on the obvious science run amok theme, which, despite being both patently fascinating and scarily prescient, is certainly nothing new to the genre. The film is reverent of its forbear Frankenstein, in not only thematic construction, but in the sly naming of its two leads after actors from Bride of Frankenstein. Still more reviewers have picked up on how potent its parental metaphor is. As a father myself, I was keenly impacted by the painful truth concerning the difficulties couples face raising a child which shines through the outrageous nature of the surrogate scenario. What I don't hear many people discussing is the startlingly feminine nature of the film. Sarah Polley's performance is absolutely brilliant in this, but the most stunning thing about it is that she portrays the lead character. Not the lead character in the sense that Jaime Lee Curtis played the lead in Halloween, as an empty, pure vessel who events and action happen TO and AROUND. No, that's the standard lead female role in a horror film. Sarah Polley's Elsa is a lead character whose decisions and actions DRIVE the narrative and propel the story. Adrien Brody as her more timid mate, is constantly playing catch-up and reacting to the consequences of her decisions, effectively placing him in the traditional female role. This is hugely important to take note of. Elsa is a fully realized, 3-dimensional character with her own psychological baggage, wants and needs. If you think a while on it, you'll realize there are few such female characters in the history of the horror film. Perhaps it is this narrative decision that makes the film so unique, for it steers the tone into unfamiliar waters that may seem murky and frightening to the bulk of the male viewers. Adrien Brody's Clive becomes a nagging naysayer and sulking buzzkill. The focus becomes Elsa's exhilaration with the discovery of her maternal instinct on her own terms and without the input, either emotionally or genetically, of Clive. So, a third of the way into the film, we have the story of a driven, intelligent career woman whose ambition and vision supersedes that of her husband deciding (against Clive's withering wishes) to further their research, push scientific and ethical boundaries and to expand their family unit. In the interest of fair warning, there be spoilers and unchecked theoretical postulations ahead. The Spliced hybrid child is named Dren by Elsa and quickly becomes the other focal point of the story. The tale has now become one of mother and daughter struggling to find a middle ground between protection and imprisonment, nurturing and belittlement, discipline and tortuous abuse. Women are vastly more complex creatures than men so it stands to reason the dynamic between two with a filial connection would be a veritable powder keg of contrasting, powerful emotions. Elsa wishes to educate Dren, to make her pretty, to see her flower and take flight. But when Dren becomes increasingly, uncontrollably powerful and threatens to figuratively and literally take flight, the dark side of Elsa's lioness protective instinct kicks in and it is devastatingly unsettling to behold. In an earlier scene in which she applied make-up to Dren, Elsa proffered a tellingly traumatic anecdote concerning her own adolescence with her own unstable mother. "My mother wouldn't allow me to wear make-up. She said it debases women. But who doesn't want to be debased every now and again?" This line of dialog no doubt seems confusing and conflicting to most men. As well it should. As men, we never have to consider the tipping point where our own desire for attention becomes unwitting, potentially harmful self-exploitation. This is an issue and a stage in women's lives that has tremendous and lasting impact and the nature in which their guiding female figure (or lack thereof) comes into play is of paramount importance. So Dren, tired of her imposed sequestering, exerts her budding power and attempts an escape. She is knocked unconscious by the only mother she's ever known, strapped to a table and maimed, shorn of her gender identifying clothing and callously scrubbed free of the make-up that was earlier so lovingly administered. Elsa has gone from gentle gal pal to stern, psychoses-inducing matriarch in a manner that while admittedly brutally fantastical, is grounded in a sadly highly identifiable (to women) truth. So not only does the film deign to allow characters to behave in complex, sometimes detestable ways without crossing into outright villainy, it has the temerity to boldly confront the epic, generation spanning struggle that is entering into and dealing with womanhood. Then of course there is the much ballyhooed and oft derided sequence of inter species sex between Clive and Dren. Sure, it occasions some childish giggling and uncomfortable scoffing, but this moment is about a lot more than gross out titillation and implied incest. It's about a young woman, confused and coming into her own, being held back and dismissed, then seeking attention in a naive manner from someone who readily gives it. It's about someone in a position of power being weak and exploiting her need to be noticed. This may be the moment everybody laughed or said "Ewwwww!", but those reactions were no doubt brought about by an uneasy acknowledgement that this sort of thing, sans the genetic hybrid element, happens all too often. This is a complicated, challenging film that has a lot more for women to relate to than men. It's had my head working overtime since seeing it and I will no doubt continue to unearth its mysteries for years to come. I'm not asking my male compatriots to go into the film with a Women's Study mentality, just to consider that a film about issues foreign to us might be a beneficial watch and perhaps, just perhaps, more horror films with TRUE female lead characters and themes pertaining to the feminine experience might not be such a bad thing.