Venom Splicing: A Vicious Parasitic Symbiosis
Have a nice life!
In case you haven't noticed, dear LED irradiated platform reader or penny-wise headset strapped audiophile, these words, which are all what's left after work intensive mind churning, contain specific and not so subtle revelations pertaining this mildly entertaining and predictably disappointing vehicle of a motion picture (film or movie for people not versed in archaic terminology) aptly and simply named Venom. Obviously I could have done away with this new age political correctness catering specifically to cityscape cry-babies (awww, why did you tell us about what we wanted to know anyway?!) by plastering a bold sized header right underneath the title (which is incidentally another header in itself) sporting thick black letters screaming SPOILERS! (or spoileurs if you are of the French persuasion which is quite popular nowadays) before populating the next few lines with the usual mandatory copy-pasta which seems to embellish every pop culture reference, but it should be blindingly obvious by now that this is not the route we will be channeling through.
Not that there exists anything significant or markedly different in this storyline or scenario of this on-screen projection that could be merited with a content warning, neither the title, box cover or advertising promo shots foreshadow even a hint of greatness and specialty about this reel. But just like haters are gonna hate and complainers are gonna complain, people possessing an exacerbated sense of entitlement and an unquenched penchant for the frivolous are going to fret over their keyboards and touchscreens and there is nothing one can or cannot do over it, so the chronicler shall ply on his trade and the aforementioned characters shall ply on with their tirade and the MCU will continue to churn out its CGI clad monstrosities so that this vicious parasitic symbiotic circle can twist and turn for on and on ….
…. until a spacefaring craft sent up into the loins of the Cosmos by yet another shady multi-billionaire comes crashing down into some obscure forest of an obscure Asian country because that's what these type of craft launched by these type of people tend to do, crash and burn amongst trees which precariously eyeball their baleful trajectories knowing they are the ones who will pay – with a fiery death the arrogance and stupidity of bipedal humanoids.
They just don't make these bad boys as good as they used to.
Another thing that these type of spacefaring craft tend to do along the crushing and burning is also carrying (containing that is) containers stockpiled with “samples” which are conveniently located somewhere in the far reaches of “outer space” and are now conveniently scattered amongst the charred remains of trees. Scientists, the kind that usually don thick rimmed glasses and white overalls, watch in amazement via a big ass monitor which is located in the mission control room of a yet unnamed building of a yet unidentified organisation. Another figure which is not donned in white overalls and probably is using contact lenses skims through one of the corridors trailed by his white clad entourage. Monitors are ablaze in the room, displaying stats and graphs of various kinds, clipboards with sheets of paper that carry print too small to read are being swatted through the air and keyboards punched in frantic fashion add some much needed excitement in the generic looking control room which in itself has remained unchanged through the virtual one hundred years of cinematic experience. Soon we get to know that the source of this predicament are not the currently deceased group of astronauts previously manning the craft but the missing of one of these containers. Where is the container, and most importantly, what does it really contain? The audience gasps in amazement and wallows in surprise because this isn't the nth time something like this has happened in any film. Paramedics swarm the “disaster scene” an astronaut is discovered being barely alive and is rushed out of the woods in an EMT ambulance. The astronaut is shown, presumably out of it strapped on a stretcher inside the ambulance which screams through the woods offering strong audible warning to any woodland creature that might consider crossing this nightly road. An unsuspecting paramedic is seen preparing an injection when the previously incapacitated astronaut is seen rising from his stretcher in impeccable zombie fashion before impaling the paramedic and the ambulance driver with dark, slimy branch like protrusions of what were previously his stretched arms. The paramedic is consumed by the slime-like substance while the driver is killed causing the ambulance to swerve off the road face first into some trees, magnificently roll and topple on its side into the wet street. (What would you expect, after all it is a Renault!) With the ambulance on its side, the somehow deformed ambulance roof is seen further deformed as a punch hole rips it open and the consumed paramedic emerges, unharmed, sans a broken shin which proceeds to miraculously heal itself in seconds as she stumbles down the empty road in true zombie fashion holding a piece of cloth torn from the astronaut's suit which is emblazoned with the company logo, revealed through a swift cut scene to be called “Life Foundation”.
Soon-after the screen fades into black and the now overtly excited audience which might, or might have not pieced together where the “sample” from the missing container did end up to are treated to this:
Quite suprisingly this isn't at all about the 80's extreme metal band.
Fade out. Suddenly we are in present time San Francisco instead of being in present time East Malaysia forestland or present time generic looking space control room, and we get to witness the glory of one Tom Hardy as he shakes his sleepy head from beneath the bed covers. Michelle Williams who apparently is his girlfriend playfully toys with him before bringing him coffee in bed and that's how we get to remember again that we are watching a film because scenes like this seldom happen in real life, right? Once Hardy, who also playfully sports a three day growth which he will maintain without ever using a straight razor through the almost two hours (or good two weeks) of the film, is out of bed and onto his bike (a Ducati Scrambler it seems as the Internet duly informs us) we get to learn that he is not really Tom Hardy, but Eddie Brock and that this Brock character is an investigative reporter blessed with the good fortune of having a TV show all of his own.
This fucking guy.
This show, The Brock Report, is supposed to be the network's finest and Eddie himself the network president's pride and joy and because of that reason the president assigns Eddie to an exclusive interview with Riz Ahmed who is Carlton Drake for this film and who is also the exact same shady multi-billionaire responsible for sending the spacecraft up in space and getting the “alien samples” down to Earth. Brock objects, of course, because he is an investigative reporter and possesses the gallbladder of an Egyptian crocodile which gives him every right to consider himself the tour de force of justly served journalism. Could he, the last bastion of decency and freedom of information accept to interview such a highly prized, highly monetised and highly regarded member of society, when its collectively known that the man is a crook and his methods questionable at best and loathsome at worst? No, he couldn't, but after the network president asks him not to be an ass, not to screw things up and make the best out of the situation he relents. Later, while he is out on a date night with Michelle Williams aka Ann Wheying, which we find out is a lawyer and who's face is weirdly unmovable and static as if it was cut out from the side of a discarded cardboard box, he confesses that he will indeed be an ass, screw things up and generally be the investigating pest that cost him a past position in New York. Just to add injury to the insult, later still, while they are both recovering after their post-date night sex romp, he gets up from bed leaving a sleeping Ann behind, only to find her personal computer running on the kitchen table. There he intercepts an email, which does not belong to him of course, discussing a Life Foundation legal memo (how convenient!) and being the freedom and decency fighter that he is, hacks into his girlfriend’s computer (he knew her passcode – how doubly convenient!) to have a cheeky glance at the aforementioned memo. Of course the memo is jam packed with incriminating information regarding Drake's nefarious practices and of course the next scene is of him, schooling a bunch of children about the wonders of space exploration (while undoubtedly thinking of novel ways of harvesting their tiny souls) and of course it's time for the interview with Brock, and of course Drake who is looking very respectful at the moment leaves the kids hanging so he can go and have a go at shameless self-promotion.
Also, this fucking guy.
Of course, Eddie Brock bombs the interview when he skips the regular ass-kissing routine questions and begins questioning Drake about the “allegations” of which he only knows pertaining to illegal pharmaceutical testing being done on live subjects. Of course Drake cuts the interview short and gently asks his grunts to escort Brock and his crew the hell out of his building, of course soon after Brock is fired by the network president for being such an enormous dick to such a great (and wealthy) benefactor and of course, exactly like mainlining heroin into an eyeball, things go totally to shit when his girlfriend, flat-faced Anne gets fired as well because of her boyfriend's total lack of empathy, disregard of proper relationship conduct and Machiavellian machinations, all in the name of decency and honest journalism – for the people, of course.
It's only logical that the wax effigy that is Anne will break up their life and future marriage they both so gloriously frothed about a couple of scenes back and teleport the hell away from his life right there on a pavement in-front of the building only moments ago she used to be assigned to.
Pictured, Knuckle-head and Flat-Face.
Eddie Brock is devastated. The man has a heart! How could his arch nemesis, his boss and his previously oh so loving girlfriend betray and abandon him on some trumped up charges and on such short notice? Collectively, they are the grand and total assholes, Brock must be concluding as he stares stone-faced at his life and career taking a speedy jump inside the manic manhole that is his twisting, writhing slimy black-faced EGO.
Again, it's only logical that after all this Brock will seek solace down the bottom of every drinking bottle, stare lifelessly out of the window of the run-down apartment he is forced to take on (his former lady owned the house – see?), engage in pointless discussed as poignant small talk with homeless American ladies and mafia-stricken convenience store owning Asian ladies, begrudgingly sustain the aural metallic torture broadcast by his new neighbour and scrutinise the papers for all sorts of menial jobs he knows won't undertake because, where is the cinematic fun in that?
Meanwhile, the three remaining crash landed “alien sample” containers are delivered back to the annals of Life Foundation's laboratories where an ever vigilant Drake decides to progress his symbiotic experimentation from harmless hapless quadrupedal life forms to harmless hapless and presumably unwanted and uncared of bipedal lifeforms. Clearly fully endorsing his harbouring messianic complex Drake orders his scientists to release the symbiote upon an unsuspecting and himself contained human specimen yielding spectacular results as you would imagine. The “host organism” perishes and the symbiote is granted access to another live specimen, a tacky move it seems that it arises repulsion in the eyes of his top scientist which then proceeds to do the next possible and logical thing which is to contact an aimlessly drifting Brock in the middle of a street offering him the chance of a lifetime: to expose Drake's nefarious practices and be a total hero instead of a total asshole in the eyes of many, presumably also his gladly estranged sweetheart.
Come, come, come to the Sabbath, come to the Sabbath, Satan's here!
It's only natural that Brock won't take the bait so easily. Despite the fact that he never broke a sweat while prying through his girlfriend's private emails, nor when he disregarded his own bosses directives and straightforwardly pissed on his client's sensibilities, he is reluctant to further pursue anything Drake related out of sheer fear of the repercussions but mainly because he apparently still has enough money not to be eating at a soup hall every evening. He is not a freedom fighter anymore, he has been chewed up and spat out by the system and even if his egomaniacal brain could never have fathomed such an exquisite opportunity to appear before him, now that it does he slowly retracts like the broken down half of a being he is.
But all it takes, it seems, for his genius to kick-start into overdrive and the realisation that if his cockiness was the one thing that brought him at the end of his ropes then surely it must be his cockiness which will see him on the merry way out. It could also very much be the fact that his “hit-the-road-jacked” ex-girlfriend has made an extremely speedy recovery and is now dating, and to be brutally precise, co-habiting with her brand new amore, a doctor of all things, an actual saviour, shaker and maker that drives him onto the bridge and to the point of no return as he calls the scientist who tipped him off and together they enforce their insurgency by breaking and entering into Life Foundation's labs.
It's the ah, shtuff that nightmares are made of.
Hence we arrive at the part where a supporting actor is obligated to explain to the main actor and thus the audience what the hell this whole film is on about. The scientist, or Dr. Dora Skirth, or Jenny Slate as she is known to be called in “real life” using layman's terms (because of course, we are all but fuckin' morons) reveals Drake intentions and ultimate goal: to create, through symbiosis, naturally, a new and advanced life form which will easily escape or adapt to the new worldly conditions which arise as a result of global warming and other adjacent environmental issues (humans themselves)
On a side note, it's really interesting to witness the similarities behind the scriptwriting approach of “Venom” to those of the latest “Predator” instalment released around the same time. A ship crash lands on the planet hosting the real protagonist, the planet itself is under threat of environmental demise, the way out is deemed to be the creation of an advanced “conjoined” life form and powerful hierarchical structures operate behind the scenes with the sole goal of their private betterment. Never-minding the fact that both of these stories and countless similar (if not all) others are basically an always crude retelling of the age-old dualistic fable about the struggle of the opposites, good and bad, hero and anti-hero, it’s a wonder audiences are bored to death with this kind of sorcery but miraculously still flock (in dwindling numbers that is) towards theatres, maybe because there is nothing much else offered about.
The face only a mother could love.
Back in Life Foundation's labs, Dr. Skirth is set to move the plot forward by abandoning the live munition bullet otherwise known as Eddie Brock, alone inside the lab chambers where living subjects are joyfully experiencing the wonders of symbiotic lifestyle. One of these subjects is a homeless woman known previously to Brock which he sympathises with and which serves as a catalyst in transmitting the “alien lifeform/symbiote” onto him. Brock manages to single-handedly demolish her cage, trigger every alarm in the complex, get himself infected via a touchless French kiss with the homeless lady and subsequently make his escape through the surrounding woods having graciously acquired the properties of a gazelle at speed, a monkey at a climbing sprint and a rhino on a stampeding spree all of the while continuously appearing acutely surprised at each display of his newfound superpowers.
The face of surprise itself.
The next morning when the break-in is discovered, a furious Drake orders his henchman to seek out the intruder, his scientists to resume testing and himself to appear even more self-centred at every scene. Brock wakes up with a newly acquired urgent need for satiation and proceeds to eat everything edible on sight, he does seem to have a peculiar affinity towards live subjects as is subsequently revealed when he gatecrashes his ex-girlfriend's lunch with her new man and then proceeds to chomp off the head of a live lobster while sitting inside the murky waters of the lobster tank. Eddie Brock is assumed to be in dire need for hospitalisation and he is immediately taken in by Ann's new boyfriend who seems amazingly, even superhumanly kind and helpful, especially strange for a man in his situation. During a failed CAT scan of Brock's enormously empty head is revealed and in conjunction with a parallel running scene inside Life Foundation's lab that the symbiote cannot withstand sounds between the range of 4000-6000 Hz. Brock is ejected from the premises presumably carrying an oversized duffel bag filled with prescription meds, Dr. Skirth is apprehended by Drake's main henchman after she is revealed to be the main suspect behind the break-in and is herself fed to the symbiote, after explaining to her very patient and polite boss/overlord the ethical reasons that drove her into jeopardising his business.
The face of reductio ad absurdum.
The cat is out of the bag and the bag is in the river now! Nobody would ever even suspect that things would evolve otherwise but soon enough a not-quite-to-grips with his situation Eddie Brock, who incidentally also begins to have audible discussions with a voice in his head (hint: it’s the symbiote, right?) after being diagnosed by his ex's boyfriend who has determined that he is infested with a “parasite” (could be anything but they are going to turn him loose amongst the crowds anyway) and after he is dismissed he returns to his apartment only to be ambushed by some black-clad fellows (they are all the same these hired guns aren't they, generic and uninteresting) and it's right there that he truly discovers and (not very successfully) levels up with the voice in his head, the second soul in his body. From then on unfolds a ten minute scene which includes a brawl in Brock’s living room between a dozen “baddies”, street racing on his Ducati through night-time San Francisco (widely known to be a haven setting for chase scenes) while being chased by black (what else) baddie SUV's, a foiled last-moment apprehension scene and his escape to some obscure shore (presumably Oakland) where he has a (second) self-reflecting moment along with Venom (the parasite, or symbiote, or alter ego or a really swell black oily dude). Venom utilises the precious moments of tête-à-tête screen time to recite his terms of endearment essentially informing Brock that he is nothing more than a puppet to an organism hell bent on biting people's heads off. Also somewhere along those lines comes a hint that they (both) need to steal Drake's rocket ship but the true causes behind this reasoning are yet unclear.
Tête-à-tête with schizophrenia indeed.
Intermission: Anyone remembers that paramedic in the first couple of scenes that served as a host for the symbiote after the astronaut hosting it died? In a really funny twist of events, said paramedic wanders into a Malaysian market street, seizes an elderly woman, transfers the symbiote on her, the elderly woman despite looking and acting like one of the Walking Dead characters, walks into the local airport, transfers the symbiote into a little girl which then gets on a plane and flies somewhere, which we later find out is indeed San Fran. The little girl, despite reason and logic, finds herself into Life Foundation's labs, locates Carlton Drake and transfers the symbiote onto him. How or why's are not important as is a rigid plot-hole free scenario it seems but now Drake in the sweet words of Brock himself “has got another one up his ass”, this another one dubiously called Riot.
The face even his mother wouldn't love.
In order to keep the long story short and do some favour to the film (and to you dear reader) we'll speed-run you through the remaining half an hour. Brock drags his sorry ass all the way to his old workplace, climbs to the roof with the aid of Venom and leaves the “incriminating evidence” on his old boss's office. When he walks down to the main foyer he is welcomed by a committee of well-dressed for the occasion, riot police officers. He then, through some spectacular acrobatics and copious amounts of extremity extensions to eradicate each and every one of them. After the fight, he is met with a dismayed Ann which rushes him to her new boyfriend in the hospital in a heartbeat. There they trick the symbiote into exiting Brock's body, Brock is then apprehended by Drake's henchmen which take them into another dimly lit forest clearing in order to put a bullet in his head. Drake himself has a personal moment with his alter-ego, Riot in which he explains to him that a symbiote invasion is due to happen and to which Drake promptly agrees upon. Back in the forest, Brock is saved in the last minute by a symbiote harbouring Ann (which still retains her plastered unmovable face) which then proceeds to transfer the symbiote back in him via an actual lengthy French kiss. Brock is Venom again, Venom is Brock and together they rush through the night to stop Drake/Riot and the oncoming alien invasion.
The unflattened face of the now curvaceous Ann
Here comes the fun part we've been all waiting, the part which we have experienced in countless iterations in many other films, books, stories and so on, and so on. Drake/Riot is preparing to launch his spacecraft into space in order to fetch a few million more symbiotes down to Earth. He orders his scientists to launch the craft and when they hesitate to do so, he murders them all using two really sweet scythes he has forged from his own slimy hands. He then proceeds to climb monkey style onto the rocket where he is intercepted by Brock/Venom. Battle of the Titans erupts which unfolds in the following, wholly original fashion: Riot and Venom fight it off in a blazing glory of CGI greatness, Venom (the hero) receives the beating of his life at first by Riot (the anti-hero) and as Brock alone is left for dead on a platform one minute before the rocket launches.
Props to the toymakers: A truly Dali-esque work of art.
Riot climbs into the rocket while self-complacently rubbing his hands, the left for dead Brock reunites with Venom and together they jump onto the rocket as it launches the hell out of this Earth. Venom slices open the rocket's fuel tanks (right after delivering the film's dedicated catch-phrase - “Have a nice life!”), the rocket explodes into a quite impressive CGI fireball, taking Drake/Riot with it (fire along with high pitched sounds is lethal to symbiotes) and Blake is thrown into the sea below, apparently separated from Venom once again by the immaculately rendered rocket blast. The scene fades out with a distraught Brock calling for Venom as he resurfaces and when the lights are back on, its daytime in a quite peaceful San Francisco street, Eddie Brock and (flat-faced) Anne are seated on the doorstep of a house exchanging pleasantries. Through their small talk, we learn that there is still room for rekindling between the two, and we also find out that Venom hasn’t really abandoned Brock whose current life has taken a good turn for the better. Together they roam the streets, with Brock attempting to coerce Venom into not being the mindless head chomping drone he is known to be and by any stretch of imagination he succeeds in it. Together they form a brand new vigilante team, one that definitely will be handicapped in the future by serious bouts of manic-depressive episodes and PTSD flashbacks. The Excelsior Stan Lee also makes a cameo, advising Brock not to forget about Anne and we assume this scene was shot before his timely demise, otherwise, we are looking at some pretty good CGI, which is what 90% percent of this film is built on.
Burn baby, burn!
The film fades to black under the sounds of the title track sung by none other than Eminem which is as uninspired and insipid as the film itself. Truly, a perfect match.
Also, right after the Rorschach type end title cards, we are transferred back to MCU San Francisco and specifically San Quentin prison where Eddie Brock presumably has scrambled to deliver tater tots to inmates as part of his charity work. Of course we are wrong and Eddie is there to meet with Woody Harrelson, who is wearing one of his special crazy faces (all of them are crazy, didn’t you know?) because Woody is Cletus Kasady, a serial killer and as we find out from their short but entertaining dialogue, Carnage, which is someone we will truly get to know in the sequel if this film amasses enough revenue to green-light it proper.
Carnage! At the flick of a wrist!
Plain looking end card titles drop and soon after that an animated short is displayed and from our understanding, it’s the preview to the upcoming animated Spider-Man film, and despite its five minute running time is easily the most entertaining part of the whole Venom experience, sans the incessant double talking inside Brock’s head.
Get ready wage-slaves!
Director Ruben Fleischer utilises mostly standard macro shots and action sequence close-ups which in total deliver a satisfying if unoriginal experience. Post production's decision to run the film through glowing neon filters proves to be a hit, bestowing the film with a polished neo-noir grit sans the tiresome black and white effect. CGI is done almost perfectly and it’s used extensively but it should be expected by film shot in this day and age. Dialogue is satisfying but ultimately dumbed down, and so are the generic sound effects. We won’t go into detail about the soundtrack because Eminem's droning rapping has stopped us dead in our tracks and we consider it to be a sign from the god of the MCU.
Overall a relaxing if overused experience. Recommended? Go and watch Mad Max: Fury Road again. Almost no Tom Hardy talk and loads of Charlize Theron action.
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