Metropolis Restored (1927, 2010)

I suspect many of us knew METROPOLIS before we ever had a chance to actually see it.  I know my first exposure to it as a complete (or as close as it was considered to be then) film came some time in the early 90s, with the color tinted, Giorgio Moroder version, edited and scored by the electronic music pioneer.  But the images - those stark, expressionistic cityscapes rising to the heavens, the iconic "Other" Maria sitting under an inverted pentagram as rings of electricity pulsed around her and, perhaps for me, the brand most burned upon the brain: a solitary man fighting to maneuver two rods attached like the hands of some nightmarish clock (with only ten hours to squeeze in an extra work day I'd learn years later), vainly aligning them to flickering bulbs that never stay for more than an instant -these images that have been etched in my movie memory far longer than I have any right to claim to them.

Watching the new "complete" version of METROPOLIS on Blu-ray, featuring over 30 minutes of additional footage recently unearthed in a vault in Buenos Aries, and boasting a gorgeous 5.1 recording of the original score brings those images vibrantly back to life, feeling as new and striking as the memories I hold of them.  The difference being that those singular visual memories are now tied together in a coherent structure, acting as signposts on a road where the story, long held to be a shortcoming of the film, comes to the forefront.  Running just under two and a half hours, it's surprising that METROPOLIS actually feels shorter, as the additional footage brings a depth to the story that engages the viewer as much as the overall design and effects did in the past.

The Epigram that starts METROPOLIS reads: "THE MEDIATOR BETWEEN BRAIN AND HANDS MUST BE THE HEART!" and this message, seemingly so on the nose for 21st Century viewers, echoes the tone the rest of the film will take.  The colossal city of Metropolis is actually two cities: the sprawling, dreamlike upper city where the white collar executives (the Brain) run everything, building gargantuan gardens and stadiums for the delight of their young, brash sons, and the underground city of the the workers (the Hands), who sweat and starve and toil to keep everything running for those privileged who live above.  The city is run by Joh Fredsersen, who has no time for anything other the running of the city, much to the dismay of his son Freder (Gustav Fröhlich), who after meeting the saintly Maria who intrudes with a mass of children into the Eternal Gardens to introduce Freder to the plight of his "brothers" below decides to head into the Underground to see for himself how the city lives and breathes.  He finds that Maria is the one thing holding the workers in check from rioting, and his heart goes out to both the workers and the beautiful woman who hopes for a brighter future.  Throwing a wrench into the works is Joh Fredersen, who likes things the way they are, and he enlists the assistance of the evil Dr. Rotwang, who uses his newly created Machine Man to take the form of Maria, and incite the workers to revolt, thereby allowing Fredersen the leeway he needs to put the workers down once and for all.

Although the earlier cuts of METROPOLIS were more than enough to show the visual genius of Fritz Lang, the restored, complete version takes his directing prowess to another level entirely.  Entire subplots are revealed, showing a deft hand at parallel storytelling and artful cross-cutting between events.  We see the fate of Worker 11811, the poor man at the clock machine who Freder replaces.  He takes Freder's place, only to fall prey to the vices Freder himself is escaping.  We see the mysterious Thin Man (most assuredly not Nick Charles), hired by Joh Fredersen to find out where his son is and to expose what's going on with the workers.  The climactic flooding of the underground Worker City is much more substantial, and as Lang cuts from one set of action to another we that METROPOLIS is not only the progenitor of much of our now classic science fiction imagery, but it also works as a phenomenal action film, ratcheting up tension as fine as anything that would come a quarter of a century later from more modern masters like Alfred Hitchcock (who was reportedly a visitor to the set, according to the excellent documentary that is included with the DVD/Blu-ray).

I mentioned earlier how much better the restored film plays as a whole, even though it's substantially longer than it was before.  This comes at a small cost to some viewers: due to the conditions of the newly found footage (a 16mm reduction taken from an original 35mm print) the new section are very rough - no amount of digital re mastering can take away the lines of age and missing section of the frame due to size.  Small price to pay, however, to see a true film masterpiece as close to its original format as we can get - there's so much in METROPOLIS that stands out throughout the language of cinema - the excellent documentary included on the disc opens with the direct influence the film's architecture had on Ridley Scott's BLADE RUNNER.  Roger Ebert, in his Great Movies essay on the film, remarks on influences as far reaching as DARK CITY, BATMAN, and even DR. STRANGELOVE.  And after watching the stunning Blu-ray transfers of the BACK TO THE FUTURE films, I can't help but see some of mad Dr. Rotwang in good ol' Doc Brown.

In its truncated form, METROPOLIS was a grand achievement in filmmaking.  Seeing the crisp, clear images now, being able to grasp the story as a whole, and reveling in the sheer joy of the technical effects on display, what was a towering work is made even more colossal, even more grand and enormous.  And even better, the storytelling on display is as fresh, as engaging, as it must have been to people experiencing its like for the first time, over 80 years ago.

* The complete restored METROPOLIS is available in HD on Netflix Instant Streaming service.

Monsters (2010)

Being Film #4 in Hail Horror 5

Turns out the surprise was on me. Not because MONSTERS, the micro-budget (reportedly made for $15,000) debut from British visual effects artist Gareth Edwards is a bad movie - it most definitely isn't - but it also definitely isn't a horror movie.  You wouldn't necessarily gather that from the trailers, however, which try to push the "dangerous thing hunting down the young couple" aspect a bit more than I think serves the film.  Despite all that, though, MONSTERS is a incredible example of what one can do with limited funds but boundless amounts of passion.

War Within the Mind: Two Looks at the Climax of Village of the Damned

Being a Hail Horror Interlude, and the second of two contributions to Radiator Heaven's John Carpenter Blogathon.

Wolf Rilla's 1960 adaptation of John Wyndham's The Midwitch Cuckoos known around filmdom as the wonderful VILLAGE OF THE DAMNED remains one of my favorite SF/Horror movies, a film I can easily slide into any time of the year.  Boasting a clever "what if?" premise and a gaggle of eerie children, its climax is a classic of suspense: one man's will to shield his thoughts from the evil around him, and the slow disintegration of that will beautifully interpreted as a crumbling wall.

I'd be lying if I said John Carpenter's 1995 remake fared as well.  In an effort to update the threat to appeal to  the audience of the time, I think it loses some of the original's grace and simplicity.  That being said, Carpenter can still wring out a tense sequence with the best of them and also knows that, like Howard Hawks, if something worked the first time, best not to mess with it.

De Palma Blog-a-thon: Revisiting Mission to Mars

My contribution to Tony's Brian De Palma Blog-a-thon is up over at Cinema Viewfinder. It's a little lightweight compared to the other (excellent) articles up, but I'm still happy with it.

The entire article is re-posted below:

Has there been a Brian De Palma film that tries harder to distance itself from being a "Brian De Palma film" than Mission to Mars? Along with The Bonfire of the Vanities (both, coincidentally, rank at the bottom of De Palma's filmography over at Rotten Tomatoes, with 24% favorable), it seems the least fitted to the themes and styles he's experimented with throughout his career. It also has the dubious personal honor of being one of only two films (the other being Francis Ford Coppola's unfairly maligned Bram Stoker's Dracula) that caused my wife to exclaim mid-film, "This was one of the stupidest movies I've ever seen."

That was nine years ago, when the film was released, and was the moment in time that instigated me to re-visit the film with as part of Cinema Viewfinder's De Palma Blog-A-Thon.

For the uninitiated, Mission to Mars is about a manned mission to the Red Planet (led by Don Cheadle, who's probably the best thing in the movie) that goes south when the team is seemingly attacked by a mysterious presence that results in the exposure of an enormous, alien face carved out of the rock. A crack team comprised of Tim Robbins, Jerry O'Connell, Connie Nielsen and Gary Sinise (who was originally slated to lead the mission until the death of his wife caused him to be taken off the mission), attempt to rescue the mission but wind up crashing on Mars, where they find Cheadle miraculously alive, and discover the mystery behind the stone face and the beings who carved it.


I only recently discovered that Mission to Mars was in part based on a Disney attraction and, in hindsight, makes the overall visual style of the film more understandable, if not better. It opens with a signature De Palma sequence—a single crane shot that slowly weaves its way through a barbecue party for Cheadle and his crew. The camera leisurely weaves its way through the main players, setting up the same tired group stereotyping: the laid back leader and his awesome wife who's almost but not quite as as capable as he is; the wise-cracking stud/comic relief; only cutting away when we get to Gary Sinise—the hot shot damaged hero.

These slow, continuous takes appear throughout Mission to Mars, and it's hard not to be impressed by some of the moments De Palma wrings out of the story. The space station monitoring the mission is introduced in a sequence that echoes the opening shot, tracking down corridors and following the walls until arriving at the command center. Some of the effects shots are particularly good—De Palma wisely backs away from the action, letting the moments unfurl methodically, as when the face's "security system" makes its appearance:


A later scene, inside the stone face, is reminiscent of Kubrick in its pristine, clinical presentation:


But nothing can overcome a script that relies too heavily on tired cliches and superfluous exposition. Plot points are telegraphed miles in advance (did anyone doubt the whole "candy DNA" gag would be important later on?); exposition is crammed into every scene; and even the effective set pieces, such as when the rescue team are forced to abandon their ship and try to manually latch onto to an orbiting satellite before burning up in Mars' atmosphere, are ruined with corny dialogue and over-used exclamations.

All of which is a shame because under all the silliness is an attempt to make an interesting science fiction film, as opposed to a sci-fi popcorn movie. Maybe not GREAT science fiction, but at least something that tries to stand out against what was popular at the time (the similarly dismal Red Planet came out the same year). Mission to Mars fails.

I have to wonder why, seeing it again, what was it in the story or the concept that caused Disney/Touchstone to reach out and say, "You know who'd be a good choice for this? Brian De Palma," and then bury what De Palma is known for doing in a rote, bland movie that was entirely typical of everything else that was out there.


Randoms ("borrowed" from Matt Dessem's wonderful Criterion Contraption)

• For a science fiction film, there are dozens of odd choices and inaccuracies that pull you out of the film. Movement on the planet feels decidedly ordinary - there is no discernible gravitational difference between Mars and Earth. In the space station, zero gravity asserts itself only when it's needed to provide moments like the candy DNA strand or the dance between Robbins and Nielsen.

• The oddest choice, the one that pulled me completely out of the film, was the decision to have everyone's voices sound perfectly normal when inside their spacesuits. It sounds like they're all in a room talking together. Quite possibly the best radio reception to ever be used in space.

• Gary Sinise wears A LOT of eye shadow in this film. It's kind of disturbing.

• Although parenthood has tempered her vitriol, my wife still hates Mission to Mars, feeling it's actively trying to make her dumber. Note to self: DO NOT ask her to re-visit Bram Stoker's Dracula with you.

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Just when you think you're doing something original (like who the heck wants to talk about Mission to Mars?), you find later that someone has indeed done it, and done it better. There's a great article over at Reverse Shot that essentially makes the same points, albeit with more flair and better overall writing ability.

Terminator Salvation (2009)

It’s impossible to point a finger at any one person or thing that brings TERMINATOR SALVATION down to such a mediocre movie. Movies are a collaborative process (so “bunk” to the whiners who argue over whether the screenwriter or the actor or the director is the sole architect responsible for a film), and as much as I would like to lay blame on the all-over-the-place script, Christian Bale’s performance or McG’s overall direction, I can’t. Everyone has a piece of this mud pie.

It’s not a total disaster by any stretch of the imagination, and I went into things hopeful for some fun action if nothing else. And I got that – the action scenes are spectacular. McG rails against the current fad of close-up, shaky camera movement that turns most action scenes into a jumbled mess (which is why it’s so weird that the fad persists) and keeps everything very clear and fluid, never letting the audience get lost in the sequence. When he struts his stuff it’s amazing: there’s a helicopter crash scene that’s perhaps one of the best camera moves I’ve seen in years.

There are some good performances to be had as well: Sam Worthington plays the real “lead” (as far as I’m concerned) of TERMINATOR SALVATION and gives us a preview of what he’ll be bringing to the table in the much anticipated AVATAR coming later this year, and Anton Yelchin does a great Michael Biehn playing a young Kyle Reese, which is kind of funny when you think about his role in STAR TREK channeling Walter Koenig’s Chekov. Even Moon Bloodgood, whom I only know as a television actress brings a spark to the scenes she’s in.

But unfortunately none of that is enough to overcome complete non-performances from the likes of Bryce Dallas Howard and Common, both of whom have proven they can give good performances in other films. But the real culprit is bale, who uses one setting the entire movie, which is basically a riff on his BATMAN persona. His John Connor scowls and broods, shouts odd phrases for no reason, and basically detracts from the story in almost every scene he’s in. I’ve heard that originally John Connor was supposed to be a minor role in SALVATION, which the focus being on Worthington and Yelchin’s characters, but when Bale came aboard the script was overhauled to feature him.

Bad mistake if that was the case. Connor’s presence only serves to cut from a more interesting story, one that has parallels to the other TERMINATOR films. And since those scenes need to be cut into the film, the story of Worthington’s Marcus Wright, a condemned man in 2003 who awakens in 2018 in the middle of the war between humanity and the machines, suffers.

I feel bad for McG. He’s got a definite eye for things, and even though I wasn’t the target audience for them, the CHARLIE’S ANGELS films were fin and striking in a way that was fresh and new at the time they were released. Maybe a lot of this was studio interference: how else to explain the cumbersome and sloppy prologue that’s tacked on to the beginning, the text exposition that immediately follows? All of this could have been integrated with a lot more finesse into the middle of the movie, except that no, we have to make room for all the Bale brooding. The editing and assembling of the different storylines does nothing except to ramp up tension only to deflate it a few moments later.

I wish we had a great TERMINATOR film for the 21st century. I wanted this to be it. My hope now is that the inevitable deluxe/ultimate/limited DVD that comes out has some sort of “Director’s Cut” that addresses some of these issues. A few suggestions from this humble (and admittedly inexperienced, as mentioned before) writer follows:

1. Ditch the opening scene with Marcus and Helena Bonham Carter’s Cancer Lady character, as well as the scrolling exposition. Open with the battle. You can always communicate the lost information later in the scenes between Marcus and Bloodgood at the fire.
2. Cut back Bale’s role. After the opening battle, let’s stay on Marcus’s story until he’s brought to John Connor at the resistance headquarters.
3. Ditch Bryce Dallas Howard all together. Nothing against her, but she’s useless in this particular role. It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.
4. The ending: without giving too much away, there’s a great opportunity to “fix” John Connor in the labs, essentially making him like Marcus and setting up a larger inner conflict for future use instead of the ultimately wussy “heart” scene that coincidentally makes John Connor look like a huge dick instead of the hero he needs to be.

Come on guys, I know there a really good, if not great movie in here somewhere…

Movie #23: Watchmen (2009)

After 20+ years of back and forth between studios, writers, and directors we finally, for better or for worse, have our WATCHMEN movie. Forget the "could have beens" of a Terry Gilliam or Darren Aronovsky version of the film, forget the 5+ hour HBO miniseries (which was never really a consideration). Zach Snyder and the team behind 300 have gone and made the "unfilmable" Holy Grail of graphic novels into a finished film.

And a surprisingly faithful one, at that.

Almost too faithful, and if I have a minor quibble with WATCHMEN, the issue of being "too faithful" is an odd one, in light of the various fanboy uproars over major departures like the lack of the "squid" ending to more minor liberties like using "Desolation Row" over the closing credits when it is, in fact, used as the opening quote to the book.

So before jumping into the review, it's probably best to explain the mindset I used going into the movie: it has to work as a film. We're talking two very different mediums here, and the logic, structures and storytelling techniques that work in comics, and specifically in Watchmen the graphic novel, don't necessarily translate when adapted to film. That's always been Alan Moore's main reason for the disdain he has of all his filmed works, and it's a valid one. But (of course there's a "but") there's a lot that film can do that comics can't, and provided the hand that does the adapting does it with reverence and keeps their eye on the message within the work (which was always "filmable"), you can do things like LORD OF THE RINGS. THE GODFATHER.

And now, WATCHMEN.

Zach Snyder should be proud of himself. WATCHMEN is an audacious, unapologetically R-rated film that revels in taking its costumed avengers and placing them in a very real (albeit weird) world, a world where the discovery of the first "super-powered" man is heralded as "an American" and consequently sets up a society where people don capes and masks to both commit crime and fight it. WATCHMEN is largely about the deconstruction of the superhero archetype, but by committing to the book's 80's time frame lock, stock, and barrel and running the action against the nation's growing paranoia over Soviet aggression and nuclear holocaust, Snyder draws parallels to our own current global scenario. It's a beautifully realized world; not the "real word" of something like THE DARK KNIGHT, but like that film, total in its commitment to a reality that governs the actions of its characters.

Most everything is here: after a brilliant opening to the strains of Bob Dylan's "The Times They Are A-Changing" that brings us up to speed on the world since the "birth" of Doctor Manhattan and costumed heroes to the 1977 Keane Act that banned vigilantism, we're immediately in the present, and witness to the murder of the Comedian. Snyder stays very close to the panels drawn by Dave Gibbons in the book, but amps everything up by showing us the action that occurs in between the panels to open things up and make the fight that much more visceral. Jeffrey Dean Morgan is incredible in the short amount of time he gets to play the Comedian - it's a bastard of a role, because the Comedian's so repulsive, but Morgan really brings out a lot of the underlying pain and anguish that haunts him in his final days. He very nearly steals the show in every scene he's in.

Nearly. I could go one about the other actors, all of who pull out fine performances, but that would take up too space before I could get to how unbelievable Jackie Earle Haley is as Rorschach. He's the drive of the film, the narrator and the one person who never once compromised or gave in when everyone else took government jobs (Comedian, Manhattan), went to seed (Nite Owl, Silk Spectre), or cashed in (Ozymandias, who gets the short end of the stick in the theatrical version, but hopefully gets some more to do in the director's cut in a few months). Rorschach is the heart of the film and, like Billy Crudup's Doctor Manhattan, Haley has to do most of his acting in actions and voice, since for the most part he's covered by the now famous ink blot mask. Snyder wisely keeps most of Rorschach's scenes from the book intact, and when the mask finally does come off, Snyder's camera gets in close, studying every worn line and whisker on his face. The single best scene of WATCHMEN comes not from the result of make-up, special effect or fight choreography - it is a close-up of Haley's face at the end of the film, in the bitter cold, shaking from the freezing air and bitter sadness of what's about to happen. The entire screen is filled with his face, and it's impossible to turn away.

I mentioned before how much restraint Snyder shows in refraining from the speed changes that covered every second of 300; it's a credit that this feels almost like a different director. The fact that so much of what was on the page he manages to pull off in incredible. Another fantastic scene I never would have thought would work on film involves a dream Dan Dreiberg (Nite Owl) has after a failed attempt to make love to Laurie (Silk Spectre): naked in a barren landscape, each person rips the other person's skin off, revealing each other in their crime fighting costumes as a gigantic mushroom cloud erupts on the horizon. It's a surreal image straight out of Dali, but Snyder films it and makes it work. Another terrific section from the book that works beautifully on the screen is Doctor Manhattan's exodus to Mars, and his meditation on his life and the multifaceted nature of time, and how it appears to him. Again, I would have thought this would never work on the screen: Snyder proves me wrong. His fight choreography, also very different from the novel, is top-notch; I couldn't help but think that this was how I wanted to see my superheros fight. Christoper Nolan: take note for the next Batman movie - you can have dressed up people move with a fluid grace.

And the love scene? I guarantee you've never seen anything this, uh, hardcore in a big-budget superhero film again. It's tacky, it's explicit, and it's a fantastic pressure release valve from all the heavy stuff that has gone on before. You'll laugh out loud, and you'll probably never listen to Leonard Cohen or "Hallelujah" the same way again.

So where did I have any problems? By sticking so close to the book, and being so faithful to the words spoken, some of the dialog comes off a little wooden, and takes you out of the film a bit. It's at those moments that you're reminded you're watching an adaptation instead of immersing yourself in a film. There's one weird instance, however, where Snyder opts to removes a crucial bit of dialog that also makes the film suffer a bit. Early in the film after the Comedian's murder Rorschach makes his rounds to the rest of the Watchmen (they were called the Crime Busters in the book - the term "Watchmen" really was a catch-all referring to all costumed heroes) informing them of his death and his suspicions that someone is out to kill heroes. This news of the Comedian's death has implications for Laurie, aka Silk Spectre, having to do with a violent episode between the Comedian and her mother, the original Silk Spectre back in the 40s and 50s. So in the book Laurie lashes out at Rorschach about the Comedian, and when Rorschach says something about it, her anger is what causes Doctor Manhattan to teleport him out of their compound. Here that doesn't happen - the conflict is glossed over and, although it's accentuated elsewhere, I couldn't help but feel that initial moment of Laurie's hatred would have the revelations that come later on the film more weighty. It's a small grievance, but it's there.

Some scenes also suffer a little from such careful dedication to the book. There are a few moments where WATCHMEN feels like you're viewing the book instead of living the film (something the motion comics DVD purposefully achieves). The moments feel a bit dry, especially when they're matched against sequences that jump off the screen. We all have the book, we can all read it again, so taking a few more liberties (I know, blasphemy) and making each minute of the visual version of WATCHMEN completely engage the viewer instead of pay homage to the book might have made the difference between "great" and "nigh perfect".

My final, tiny issue is admittedly a personal quibble and, surprisingly, comes after the movie ends. I'm perfectly fine with the "squidless" ending. In fact, I'm fine with practically (see above) every moment of WATCHMEN. Once the credits roll, we're treated to a cover of "Desolation Row" performed by My Chemical Romance. Song's not bad, I like My Chemical Romance, and I get the reference (again, a line from the song actually opens the novel), but the tone in the cover is much more upbeat that the original version, and doesn't jibe with the essentially bleak "it never ends" ending. MInor and more than a bit "fanboy-ish" perhaps, but when my ending is downbeat, I don't want major chord punk playing over the credits.

Those pieces aside, in the end WATCHMEN comes off as a kind of great film, one I think is destined to be influential and talked about for years to come. Drew McWeeny compared it to BLADE RUNNER, and I don't think he's too far off the mark. It might not do a lot of box office, it requires more than simple passive viewing (in fact, I'm 100% this is going to get better and better over multiple viewings), but in the end it's an impressive achievement, does nothing to shame the graphic novel, and proves that nothing is "unfilmable" when you commit yourself to it.

Although, come to think of it, wouldn't it have been cool to see that giant squid now?

Scanners (1981)

"We're gonna do this the Scanner way...I'm gonna suck your brain dry!"

In the world of "Oh, God...they're doing another mindless remake," it was announced that the director responsible for the SAW sequels (not the original SAW, mind you, the sequels) it set to helm a remake of David Cronenberg's 1980 SF/horror flick SCANNERS. The weird news that accompanied this was that David Goyer (BATMAN BEGINS, the BLADE movies) would be writing the screenplay. Since it's been years since I've seen SCANNERS, I decided to do a little revisiting and see if the film holds up after so many years.

I can see why it came up as a possible remake. SCANNERS feels a little like Cronenberg trying to integrate his themes of leaving the flesh and the poisons that inhabit the mind and body into a more mainstream type of movie. It works, but suffers ( think) a bit from being the "middle child" sandwiched between the greatness that came immediately before (THE BROOD) and after (VIDEODROME). As usual, there are some great ideas present, and some incredible scenes and images, but it's embedded in a hokey story about an underground movement of telepaths intent on controlling the world.

Although, writing that last sentence, my inner geek is really digging that idea, so maybe I liked it better than I realized?

If you know anything about SCANNERS at all, it's probably the "head bursting" scene. To recap: due to experimentation on pregnant women, some children have grown up to be "Scanners," people with tremendous telepathic powers - they can read your minds and control your bodies, even to the point of blowing your mind, baby! Darryl Revak is the leader of the underground, intent on taking over the human race. The ethically shaky Dr. Ruth finds a young previously unknown Scanner named Cameron Vale, who is trained to go after and stop Revak.

With the exception of Michael Ironside, who plays up Revak as creepier than anything this side of Hannibal Lecter, the cast is pretty awful, and that includes Patrick McGoohan as Dr. Ruth. There are moments when Cronenberg feels uncertain, not knowing how to embed his great scenes and ideas into what really amounts to a low budget action film. When he tries to move the story along, it can feel a bit heavy. But when he focuses on the world of the mind and its power on the body, the scenes are eerie and intense. In the beginning Cameron is tied up in an abandoned warehouse. A group of people silently come in and sit down to observe him. Their mouths never open, but their thoughts are a cacophony, and the constant stream of words wreak havoc on Cameron's mind and body.

When Cameron hooks up with Kim, a hot little telepath, they travel to a doctor to find the answers to how Scanners were originally created. While in the waiting room, Kim is unexpectedly "probed" by a Scanner. She looks around and sees nothing, until her eyes finally fall on the belly of an expectant mother. It's a great, quiet, tense scene, but the dread is quickly dispersed by the following exchange:

"What happened?"
"I was scanned. The woman...in the waiting room..."
"She scanned you?
"No...her child...her unborn child scanned me."

These words are delivered in such a way you'd wish your head would explode.

Of course no Cronenberg film would be complete without the unravelling of the flesh and the mind into a chaotic swirl of ambiguity and gross-out, and SCANNERS delivers again, as we witness perhaps the most visceral psychic battle ever put to film. Eyes pop out, people catch on fire, veins explode, and in the end successful psychic transference occurs. Of course, the downside is you now have to live as Michael Ironside and live through the making of V: the Series.

Enjoyable enough, but I think SCANNERS is a movie for my 14-year old self. The 36-year old would rather just watch the head bursting scene over and over again.

You'd think the opposite would be true, right?

For those of you who want to see it, here's a clip of SCANNERS' most famous scene. Click the man before he explodes!