The Pain of Progress: Why Crimes of the Future Still Cuts Deep in 2024

Though it premiered in 2022, David Cronenberg’s Crimes of the Future feels eerily more relevant today. As we continue to face worsening environmental crises, groundbreaking advancements in biotechnology, and intensifying cultural divisions, this dystopian masterpiece serves as both a cautionary tale and a dark meditation on humanity’s future.

In Cronenberg’s imagined world, the human species has evolved—or devolved—past its natural boundaries. Physical pain is a thing of the past, and with it, humanity’s connection to physical limits and vulnerability. In this new state of being, the body begins to grow new organs as an adaptive response to environmental pollution. These organs, often unpredictable and seemingly purposeless, become the centerpiece of avant-garde performances staged by Saul Tenser (played by Viggo Mortensen), a performance artist whose every surgery becomes a public spectacle.

Surgery as Spectacle, Evolution as Art

The film’s premise feels simultaneously alien and disturbingly plausible. Saul, with the help of his partner Caprice (Léa Seydoux), transforms surgical procedures into art, turning the growth and removal of his new organs into exhibitions. In this world, “surgery is the new sex,” and the performance of painlessness is both seductive and grotesque. Caprice, an artist in her own right, finds beauty and eroticism in the body’s transformations, performing these surgeries as if painting a masterpiece.

This raises profound questions: What happens when the limits of human experience are removed? Pain, traditionally seen as a marker of danger or growth, no longer exists in this society. Without it, there are no boundaries, no warnings, and ultimately no humanity. Saul’s performances become a metaphor for the absence of struggle: by removing pain, society has created a void that demands to be filled—by art, by voyeurism, and by experimentation.

Plastic: The Food of the Future?

At the heart of the narrative lies an unsettling proposal: humans evolving to eat plastic. This is not just a clever nod to environmental crises but a reflection of the extremes to which survival might drive us. A mysterious underground group promotes this adaptation as the next step in human evolution, surgically altering their bodies to metabolize synthetic waste. Saul, however, is resistant to this forced evolution, suffering from his inability to process traditional food as his body naturally evolves to digest plastic.

This evolution, though radical, mirrors real-world discussions about sustainability. If the planet becomes uninhabitable due to pollution, will humanity be forced to adapt in equally disturbing ways? Cronenberg uses this premise to critique both our dependence on synthetic materials and the societal resistance to change.

The Cost of Progress

Crimes of the Future is a deeply disturbing film, and it’s not for everyone. Its graphic depictions of surgery and body horror push the boundaries of comfort. The film begins with a shocking act of violence—a mother killing her child for his ability to digest plastic—setting the tone for a narrative that explores the extremes of adaptation and survival. Characters like Timlin (Kristen Stewart), an investigator obsessed with Saul’s performances, add to the film’s layered commentary on voyeurism and obsession.

While Saul resists evolution, his journey ultimately confronts the inevitability of change. By the end of the film, he accepts his fate, consuming a plastic bar in an act that signifies both resignation and transformation. He is the first human to evolve naturally into this new phase, while others rely on surgical intervention. This moment encapsulates the film’s central question: Is progress an act of survival, or is it a surrender to forces beyond our control?

Why It Matters Today

In 2024, Crimes of the Future resonates because it forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about our trajectory. As discussions about climate change, biotechnology, and societal divides become more urgent, Cronenberg’s film feels like a prophetic warning. Are we prepared for what evolution demands of us? And more importantly, are we willing to let go of the pain and struggle that define our humanity?

This is not just a movie—it’s an experience that challenges, provokes, and disturbs. For those willing to face its raw truths, Crimes of the Future is a must-watch masterpiece of WTF cinema.