Macabre Monday: Movie Review: Scanners (1981)
Catching up on my Cronenberg (and connections)
This is a horror classic for three reasons:
1. Michael Ironside's terrifying, and enjoyed being so
2. Cronenberg.
3. In the 70's and 80's, we were all convinced that telekineses was going to Take Us Down, and therefore some excellent horror was mined from this boogeyman of ours.
The big horror boogeymen of my childhood and adolescence were telekinesis, the Evil Child, (Carrie (1976) falls under both of these subgeneres) and the looming Medical Complex. The medical scenes in The Exorcist (1973), short as they are, are chilling and really stick with people; Robin Cook's books and movies like Coma (1978); The Dead Zone fits both Medical Complex and telekinesis quite nicely; Pet Sematary cuts across all of the above. That's why Stranger Things was able to take off the way it did with its creepy nostalgia; we were afraid then of that cross-over between the Big Medical Complex, the government, and telekinesis, because I think we could sense it could happen. (And, of course, it did, read: MK-Ultra and other programs, see—Firestarter (1984) and The Fury (1978).)
What's weak here: the writing needed to be tightened up, and some wooden delivery highlighted it, unfortunately. Cameron said his full name and that he was a scanner
"I'm Cameron Vale. I'm a scanner."
so many times, in much the very same tone, that I started hearing Prince's soundtrack to Tim Burton's Batman (1989) in my head, where he mixed "I'm Vicki Vale" over and over. Excellent acting/comfort with the material can camouflage flaws in the script and vice versa. But Cronenberg's cold body horror world where the barrier between flesh and the rest is never safe is perfect once again here, so if you can roll with it, you'll see the worst headache ever (still a practical effects marvel) and early, excellent practical work with bladders (same effect used for An American Werewolf in London’s (1981) close-up transformation). Nothing like some bulging veins in real time, no CGI in the building, to brighten up your day. Squish, squish, clean up on aisle Cronenberg.
I miss the 80's.
And here’s where I digress and tell on myself. This is why you hang around. The medical procedure in The Exorcist has been reported by some audiences as one of the most frightening parts of the movie. Real NYU doctors were used to make certain that the cerebral arteriogram looked and felt real; hence, the fear. If this procedure is performed now, the large vein in the groin is used, not the neck, as in poor Regan. It is apparently extremely painful and invasive, and the patient, while sedated, must be awake. (Uncomfortable yet?) Okay, here’s where I come in. Never fear, no disturbing medical details. I have always been struck by the look of that scene: the white on white, including the machines and the pipes in the ceiling. This starkness makes the iodine and Regan’s blood look almost obscene. Well, I was having my gall bladder removed, and they had already administered the first round of Shut Up and Go to Sleep, Carla. I was wheeled into the small operating room, I looked up, up, up
and my remaining autistic synapses fired like a pinball machine, and yes, I started talking behind my oxygen-and-other-good-stuff mask. Concerned, they unmasked me, and I pointing out the white pipes that housed cords and HVAC and God-knows-what-else on the white ceiling. Everything was so bright white…
“This looks just like the surgical procedure room in The Exorcist! Do you remember?”
The last thing I remember before then waking up in pain is hearing laughter all around me, hearing the white pipes themselves laugh, seeing the mask descend, and hearing someone say, “I remember, you need to hush now…”
I’m really not a talkative person, I am just interested in everything. Feed me drugs like that, and then a horror stimuli, and I have Things to Tell You.
Speaking of which, I would be amiss if I didn’t leave you with a bit of trivia from this Exorcist scene. Look for this guy; he was one of the actual NYU radiologists. His name is Paul Bateson.
He’s a murderer. He was convicted of the murder of Addison Verrill in 1979, and was suspected in the “bag murders” serial killings of six gay men in New York. Inspired by both this experience of hiring a future murderer, and also Gerald Walker’s 1970 novel Cruising, the Exorcist’s director William Friedkin wrote and directed 1980’s Cruising; both at the time of the novel and the film, homosexuality was still considered a psychiatric disorder, and its subculture was not open to nor understood by the general public. The movie starred Al Pacino, Karen Allen, Joe Spinell, and Paul Sorvino, and had Powers Boothe and Ed O’Neill in supporting roles. I’ve queued it up and shall report back when I’ve seen it. Looking forward to it. Looks like this sensitive subject was in pretty good hands.
See why I am so fascinated about how everything is connected? How can you not be?
Oh dude, I think I do the Prince/Batman thing often, although not necessarily just with "I'm Batman!"
It's getting to the point where fewer and fewer people get these references, but in the big screen of my brain, they never stop.
Cracking up the docs during surgery is a pretty awesome story snippet! I fairly recently had a colonoscopy, and I remember that they gave me a higher does of loopy juice due to (decisions, past, genetics, whatever). I remember thinking, I wonder what all the fuss is about and why people like this experience so much. And for like a millisecond, I understood... then utter oblivion.
My story isn't as good as yours, but the experience was not trivial for me. Kinda hard to explain.