<rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title>Tragedy - vo.rs</title><link>https://vo.rs/tags/tragedy/</link><description>Latest from the Tragedy desk at vo.rs.</description><generator>Hugo -- gohugo.io</generator><language>en</language><copyright>This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.</copyright><lastBuildDate>Wed, 11 Mar 2026 09:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://vo.rs/tags/tragedy/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Fly (1986): Cronenberg's Love Story Told in Meat</title><link>https://vo.rs/screen/the-fly-1986-cronenbergs-love-story-told-in-meat/</link><description>&lt;p&gt;People remember &lt;em&gt;The Fly&lt;/em&gt; for the fingernails. The ear. The baboon turned inside out. The moment a man walks his own severed body parts to a bathroom cabinet he keeps like a museum of what he used to be. Chris Walas won an Academy Award for that makeup, and he earned it — the effects still look wet and specific and horribly plausible forty years on. But the gore is the delivery system, and mistaking it for the film is like remembering a funeral for the flowers. David Cronenberg made a monster movie whose real subject is the thing nobody wants to watch: love standing at a bedside while a body it adores dissolves.&lt;/p&gt;</description><pubDate>Wed, 11 Mar 2026 09:00:00 +0000</pubDate></item></channel></rss>