Please note, this article contains spoilers for the 1986 film, The Fly.

David Cronenberg’s The Fly is an established classic in terms of body horror and creature horror. It has also been analyzed in the context of its moment, namely with growing reliance on technology and the AIDS pandemic of the 1980s.

A sign of a timeless film is that its message can feel prescient no matter the moment. That feeling can come, in part, from reinterpretations based on current cultural moments. Over the past decade or so, we’ve seen a surge in toxic masculinity that, while present long before the Internet, has congregated and strengthened thanks to Internet forums and social media. From memes joking about “crazy” women to an incel shooting women as retaliation for not receiving the attention from them he thought he deserved, self-proclaimed “nice men” have been gathering like steam in a pot, and when the lid explodes, it attacks us all.

The Fly tells the story of a brilliant scientist named Seth Brundle (Jeff Goldblum), who is working on a teleportation device. When he tests the machine on himself, a fly accidentally enters the pod with him, resulting in their DNA being reconstructed together; and Seth begins to slowly decompose into a monster. When I think of Seth’s ill-fated journey, I can’t help but think of the story as a metaphor of nice men who turn to toxic masculinity to get the attention, praise, and affection they think they deserve - especially because The Fly starts with him attempting to pick up a woman, Veronica (Geena Davis), at a party.

Seth’s flirtation isn’t out of line. He’s actually quite respectful. Over drinks, Seth invites Veronica to his apartment to see a secret science project he’s been working on. He promises her a good story for the magazine she writes for. Veronica is not naive, nor characterized that way - when she goes with him, she goes for the story; but one can assume she feels safe and is also accepting of the fact that flirtation and a little lust are both involved in the visit. In fact, it’s a mutual feeling.

I establish that to show Seth doesn’t begin the movie as a creep, nor does Veronica begin the movie as a woman tricked by a creep. They are equals interested in each other’s work as well as each other. When they do have sex - a few meetings/dates later - Veronica instigates it by saying, “You’re really cute, you know that?”

In the beginning of the film, the creep is Veronica’s ex-boyfriend, Stathis (John Getz). Veronica goes home after a meeting with Seth, and thinks her apartment has been broken into by a stranger. She’s right about the first part: it’s Stathis, and he used the key he had when they were a couple to get in. He gives the key back, but his creepy behavior doesn’t stop there. He implies Veronica’s only chasing the story about Seth’s work because she wants to sleep with him. He also sends her a mock-up of the magazine they both work for with Seth’s face on the cover and Veronica’s story as the cover story, granted without Veronica’s name nor permission.

It’s here that Seth’s troubles with himself escalate. Seth has already been feeling discouraged because his teleportation machine isn’t yet ready for human testing. When Veronica receives the magazine, she lies about what it is; though she tells Seth it’s something to do with her ex-boyfriend. While Veronica confronts Stathis, Seth drinks, paces, and assumes that Veronica is going back to be with Stathis - Stathis the creep, Stathis the alpha, Stathis the guy that manages to get the girl even though Seth, the smart guy, the respectful guy, the nice guy, is the one that’s better for her. Seth decides to prove he’s better by fast-forwarding the human testing component on his teleportation machine and using himself as the subject. Right before the pod door closes, a fly enters the chamber with him. 

And that’s when Seth begins to change.

Veronica returns to Seth’s apartment that night. In the morning, Seth wakes up with a new sense of vigor. He’s strong, and his body shows it. He does pull-ups on the pipes in his unfinished ceiling, and resembles a body-builder or gymnast showing prime physique. Veronica herself is impressed by Seth’s new form, and Seth proclaims his machine not only teleported him, it changed his genes and made him perfect. He now thinks he’s the perfect man.

Assuming to be the better man is already one thing, but assuming perfection - especially in the context of peak masculinity - soon leads to dangerous consequences. Seth grows more excited, especially over his work, but also more irritable and more suspicious of others. Seth’s new vigor includes his sex drive, and after a marathon sex session with Veronica, she asks if they can take a breather. She implies that he’s too much for her, at least for the time-being. He responds angrily, saying, “Maybe I should find someone who can keep up with me.” Seth assumed he was now Veronica’s perfect man, given he embodied what masculinity proclaims is perfection. Once rejected, his anger and own toxicity grew.

Seth further plummets into toxicity when he leaves the apartment to pick up a woman. He arm-wrestles with her boyfriend (another meathead that somehow managed to get the hot chick) and breaks his arm in half. He brings the woman home and sleeps with her, letting her stay overnight and letting Veronica see her leave when she returns the next morning. Seth has become the asshole he assumed Stathis was, and yet he still isn’t a guarantee for Veronica’s affections and success in his field.

And that’s when Seth begins to decompose.

He learns through going through the machine’s files that a fly got into the machine with him. This in turn resulted in their DNA being rebuilt together. Seth grasps at ways to change this new genetic makeup, to go back at least partially to the way he was. However, there’s no going back, and as Seth transforms, it seems a part of himself doesn’t want to. When he discovers Veronica is pregnant with their child, he attempts to trap her into his life once and for all by placing her, her fetus, and himself in the teleportation machine to fuse them all together. It’s the ultimate power move, and a monstrous envisioning of how masculinity determines the creation of a family: it begins and ends with the man.

However, the plan backfires--and ironically, it backfires because of Stathis. Stathis manages to slice an ax through the cord and prevent Veronica from undergoing teleportation. Seth - now fully known as Brundlefly - crawls out of the machine with a piece of it fused to his back. He crawls towards Veronica, who holds a gun in self-defense. Seth presses it to his head in one last flash of humanity. Veronica weeps as she pulls back, crying, “No, no, no” over and over, before Seth is finally put out of his misery. Veronica weeps for the man she knew Seth was, the man she fell in love with, but one ultimately destroyed not just by his machine, but by his own paranoia at being outdone by Stathis and by other men like him.

Like the fly that flew into the machine, toxic masculinity is a parasitic creature that makes men feel strong, sexy, and perfect, but ultimately destroys them and the people around them. The Fly is a prescient fable for today’s modern man, and warns against feelings of accomplishment and success being tied to toxic ideas.

Sonora Taylor is the award-winning author of Little Paranoias: Stories, Without Condition, The Crow’s Gift and Other Tales, Please Give, and Wither and Other Stories.  Her short stories have appeared in multiple publications, including Camden Park Press’s Quoth the Raven, Kandisha Press’s Women of Horror Vol. 2: Graveyard Smash, The Sirens Call, Frozen Wavelets, Mercurial Stories, Tales to Terrify, and the Ladies of Horror fiction podcast. Her latest book, Seeing Things, is now available on Amazon. She lives in Arlington, Virginia, with her husband. Visit her online at sonorawrites.com.