The film CHRONICLE (2012) is a teenage daydream of telekinetic power acquired from an alien source and like few others it explores the motivations fate itself might have for bullying kids into becoming homicidal agents of vengeance. There's an invisible Kali goddess strolling through both films, monitoring the bullying and torment, the way a brewer might monitor fermentation. Kali wants 70s sci fi telekentic horror revenge CARRIE nation twelve ways to Doomsday, but there's a problem: CHRONICLE has goody-two-shoes types, like Alex's popular but sappy cousin Matt Garetty (Alex Russell) who also has powers and who wants the film to be the touching tale of a dude getting back together with his nerdy 5th grade sweetheart-turned-senior class hottie video blogger (Ashley Hinshaw) and sticking by his bullied bud. Meanwhile their nonthreatening African-American pal Steve (Michael B. Jordan), a student body president candidate, just wants CHRONICLE to be a badass superhero film where he gets laid a lot.
The sci fi element of a glowing subterranean alien blob of intelligence melds aspects of SPACE CHILDREN (1958) with THE VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED (1960). In CHRONICLE, the powers are given when Steve and company find a big hole behind a rave and descend with the loner Alex since he brought a camera thereto. They behold a big glowing blue orb, touch it, and are Kubrick obelisk-like transformed into dudes with massive telekinetic skills, thus fulfilling their destiny, Kali-style, if only they all had the balls and psychotic tendencies to be as wanton in their destruction as Alex.
|Top: Chronicle / Bottom 2: Space Children|
Instead, CHRONICLE really stands for something. The handheld camera thing isn't just laziness or copping a Blair Witch feel, it's actually used with some poeticism and with none of the grain and odd greys of real HD video. The result is that the celluloid shines and yet the DP is free to move from all sorts of angles, and sudden poetic and interesting jump cuts. Eventually police 'copter and car footage, the camera of the cute blogger, all enter into the found flow. There's some great tricks with mirrors and the whole conceit about Alex's ability to film himself via telekinetically-adjusted angles, the camera employed like a magical Tinkerbell to his Peter Pan.
And thanks to bullies in school, a dying mother, bullies on his block, and an abusive bullying father who drinks up his disability checks and gives his son a hard time, Alex doesn't get far into the realm of being accepted due to his new power before he shrinks back into his peevish shooter shell. It seems Kali is sparing no expense in ensuring Alex's ensuing rampage!
The end result is that the survivor of the three is the one who gets to decide what tone the movie is taking, what footage will be used and when, and I won't spoil the ending. But just imagine the troubles that might have arisen if Amy Irving in CARRIE (1976) also had some telekinetic abilities and could give Carrie a run for her money? It might not have gone off so perfectly. And that's the real element of greatness in CHRONICLE: it's ragged at the edges as in a real friendship where each person is conflicted and pulling the others in a different direction than the one they want to go. None of them get the movie their demons or angels were hoping for.
I relate with that. As a teenager I started out an Alex, isolated, no social life, days spent in as many study halls as possible, reading endless violent adventure stories, ala Mack Bolan "The Executioner" series (above left) and entertaining vicious vigilante fantasies towards anyone who ever crossed me, no matter how minor an infraction. My best buddy at the time was just one level crazier. As I was getting out of the whole WW2 thing he was buying guns from the back of Soldier of Fortune.
Right at the height of his rage a certain James Huberty killed a mess of people at a San Ysirdro McDonald's, and my buddy was enthralled; he soon knew the exact arsenal Huberty had brought with him, the order of the victims, the final stand-off, the anti-immigrant underpinnings, and he expected me to honor Huberty in my heart as well. Rest assured he made sure I knew every detail during our long car rides to nowhere. Finally I pulled way back from the whole Soldier of Fortune subscription phase, pulled away from him, and got into drugs and Lou Reed instead. He wound up who knows where, but when Columbine happened I knew it could have been us who went ballistic in that library. God knows we thought about it and fantasized about it and drew pictures 'chronicling' it. If he had pushed me to join him in a cathartic rampage I may even have gone along with it. You know how teenagers are.
Red is her color, so I see the film now and wonder if she couldn't have just rolled with the punches and laughed it off, a good-natured sliming ala the Kid's Choice Awards, only red instead of florescent green. Instead she sees, Bunuel-style, everyone in the audience mocking her, though they are just shocked, for the most part, in reality, her Kali-endorsed madness ensures she sees them as all laughing evilly. Revenge can't help but be firey, and final.
Just as with the the feeling of belonging and togetherness that happens, for a brief time, with loner Andrew and the cool kids Matt and Steve, it's clear Kali is deliberately sabotaging Alex's life in order to indirectly inflict outward damage. The whole cast of high school faculty and students around Carrie is being manipulated, too, after all, by an unseen director to prod and abuse Carrie so her powers can be used later to annihilate them. This fits very well with theories about telekinesis and poltergeist activity being the almost exclusive domain of teenagers reaching sexual puberty and dealing with huge amounts of repression:
The first part of our theory is the most well-known, childhood/teenage puberty is the cause of most Poltergeist activity and is more often than not caused by a young female in emotional or psychological "crisis". In many cases, this young girl doesn’t even realize that they are causing the disturbance. The poltergeist uses this person to transmit and transform their paranormal energy to move objects and oftentimes cause damage or harm to people and items around them. It is not a possession of a human, but merely the human being used like a transmitter for the psychic energy.
The Southern Pole of the magnet is the young female starting up the "baby making factory". As she projects her emotions outward (as most teenage females do), the poltergeist pushes its own energy toward her. The two energies repel each other often causing objects to move or harm to others. The stronger the stress she feels, the more this spirit will want to feed off of her emotions, the move likely the poltergeist activity will increase. As stated above, the spirit is using the young female as a transmitter to project its energy outwards.
It has been brought up by Italian researcher Pierro Brovetto and his colleague Vera Maxia that this action of opposing energies can result in teenage telekinesis (a possible excuse for object movement). Brovetto and Maxia believe that the extra fluctuations triggered by the pubescent brain would substantially enhance the presence of the virtual particles surrounding the person. This could slowly increase the pressure of air around them, moving objects and even sending them hurtling across the room. - Theory 4
But of course, De Palma's film does the same for us, and that's important. We in the audience initially aren't necessarily on Carrie's side. Her overreaction to her first period,--shrieking like some kind of NELL-ish hill person--is such that even the kindly gym teacher slaps her. From that one incident flows the entire film, and after seeing the traumatic abuse suffered by Carrie from her crazy Christian mom, we're completely on her side, even as she goes ballistic and kills even the nice gym teacher (who she sees, in her madness, laughing maniacally at her blood situation, as if she was in on it the whole time, some long twisting joke of humiliation).
In CHRONICLE, Andrew's gradual turning back into madness happens not because abject material--pig's blood or green slime--was dumped on his head, but because he involuntarily dumps on himself, literally vomiting all over his last shot at happiness. Any loner-writer type will relate, that feeling of being held back by one's own self-sabotage from full participation in the sense of group camaraderie, or making a move on a girl, as if driven to return to your lonesome ruminations the way a vampire must return to its native soil. CHRONICLE's big pig blood moment occurs off camera and is caused by Alex's own anxiety, skeeving out a girl who was ready to take his virginity and sending her running, and spreading the news (he puked) - Andrew becomes his own worst John Travolta. The betrayal blood of the lamb/pig baptism of Carrie, or the winners at the Kid's Choice Awards is inverted, and the effect is twice as horrific yet anticlimactic, a mere fuse lighter rather than the bomb itself.
Similarly, the 'friend' cousin with the need to constantly express his feelings in CHRONICLE, Alex (Matt Garetty) ends the film--which has held onto its found footage-style narrative structure with great tenacity and awesome results--by speaking directly to Andrew in the final closing 'captain's log'-style letter, attempting to bring closure to his experience. There are atypical bullies in both CARRIE and CHRONICLE but Alex and Amy Irving represent a unique kind of villain--the 'good-intentioned' road-to-hell paver. Certain kids decide to carry the moral weight of the world on their shoulders, lord knows why, and they take it on themselves to stop the evils they perceive in their peers. In refusing to let the evil flower, they stunt its growth and the root system rises up to level the town. These do-gooders somehow never see it's really all their fault.
Or maybe I'm just telling myself that to excuse my own walking away from the budding evil in my gun nut friend. He never went ballistic, as far as I know, in the biblical sense. But he could have. And on his walls the cops would find his tacked up pictures of James Huberty to prove his madness with. Who knows what I may have provoked him to do had I gone all noble on him, demanding he throw out his Solider of Fortune collection and renounce his violent convictions?
Instead I just left him, for college, where I eventually found a true posse of cool hippie kids and finally felt accepted, extroverted, and washed clean in the blood of the lambsbread. Thirteen years later he was finally doing everything I used to, but I had by then been forced by my own weakened constitution to abandon whiskey and orgies and was in AA.
Columbine kids had a joint instead of Luvox would any of the carnage have had to happen? God forbid a natural drug like pot be legal. It might curb the homicidal urge in a whole damned generation... no longer the CHRONICLE but the chronic. No longer Carrie White burns in Hell, but Carrie White burns spliffs, and is loved. So kill all the people who want to ban what they don't understand. Line them up and... oops.
See how easy it happens?