David Cronenberg has unfinished business with the future, which is tricky, seeing as it already constitutes a significant slice of his past.
His new film — titled “Crimes of the Future,” as in committed by rather than during that span of time — finds the master on the other side of his extended sojourn in high-minded literary adaptation, biopic quasi-prestige, and Tinseltown satire, back to playing the body-horror hits on which he made his name.
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