I distinctly remember when Scanners was first unleashed on the UK. As someone who had already been convinced of the brilliance of its director via the uniquely styled genre works Shivers (1975), Rabid (1977) and The Brood (1979), I had high hopes for this one, and I was not in any way disappointed. It had a pace and drive that even its predecessors could not boast, it had the yuckiest special effects on the block, and yet it was still very clearly a David Cronenberg film. What I particularly remember, however, is the widening of the Cronenberg audience – the earlier films ran on cult power, but Scanners was reaching a more diverse range of horror fans, and connecting with them. One of my work colleagues of the time, who had refused to have anything to do with The Brood, was memorably delighted – "I was trying to scan the usherettes on the way out," he enthusiastically told me. Yeah, well, we all tried it once or twice on somebody. Just occasionally, I still do.

At the time British SF magazine Starburst compared the film unfavourably to Brian De Palma's The Fury, which also dealt with destructive telekinetic powers and secret agencies. I disagreed with them then and have continued to do so, and whereas Cronenberg has developed as a true film artist, De Palma's output has proved dismayingly uneven, works such as the catastrophic Bonfire of the Vanities and the near-hysterical Snake Eyes popping to mind too easily when we should really be remembering that he also made Scarface and The Untouchables. But it is this very elevation of Cronenberg to his present (and deserved) status as a creator of challenging and thoughtful film works that prompts some reviewers to get retrospectively sniffy about his earlier films. Which is, of course, the sort of reaction the same films were subjected on their release by a critical establishment for whom the very term 'horror film' was a put-down applied to an entire genre they believed was beneath them. Cronenberg fans, and there were even by then a fair number of them, knew better.

If you've even a passing interest in the director, you should know what the film is about, but for everyone else here's a brief plot summary. Down-and-out drifter Cameron Vale is grabbed by the conglomerate ConSec when he causes a woman to have a heart attack purely through the power of is own thought. He finds himself under the care and tutorage of Dr. Paul Ruth, who explains to Vale that he is a Scanner, an individual who for reasons unknown has developed telekinetic abilities. Ruth introduces him to Ephemarol, a drug that suppresses both the telekenetic abilities and the constant chatter of other people's voices in Vale's head. Elsewhere in the company, meanwhile, ConSec have decided to demonstrate the abilities of another Scanner to a specially selected group of outsiders, but the audience member who volunteers to be scanned, a man named Darryl Revok, is himself a far more powerful Scanner, and uses his own abilities to turn the demonstration around and kill the ConSec man. Ruth sets about convincing Vale of the danger represented by Revok and his underground group, and of the importance of hunting him down.

An intriguing premise becomes considerably more so as the the story dots are joined and Cronenberg touches on a range of subtextual elements, from the Thalidomide drug scandal to Jung's theories of the duality of man, and even includes a sequence that prefigures the present structure and behaviour of the internet involving telepathic computer hacking via the phone line. Yes, there are story holes and inconsistencies – Vale is sinking under the noise of other people's thoughts one minute and seemingly oblivious to them at another, and more than once he and fellow Scanner Kim Obrist are snuck up on by people who conveniently announce their presence by loudly cocking a pump-action shotgun – but this is almost nit-picking given how slickly the story is developed and how damned well specific scenes are handled. The opener, for example, contains no explanatory dialogue, and yet through canny camera placement and a terrific use of sound, Cronenberg clearly communicates not only that Vale has induced a heart attack through the power of thought, but that he is not in anything like complete control of this ability. This audio-visual assurance that is just as evident in the scene that follows, as Vale, tied to a bed like a dying-out junkie, has his head invaded by the increasingly oppressive chatter of the thoughts of verbally silent onlookers.

Of course, the most famous sequence remains Revok's assasination of ConSex's Scanner in which he prompts the man's head to literally explode in a still completely convincing physical effect, but Cronenberg seems to confound genre logic by having it happen so early in the film rather than saving it for the climax (as did De Palma with the exploding John Cassavetes in The Fury), but its narrative positioning is crucial, as from that moment on, every time a scan begins we are only to well aware of the direction it could ultumately take. Cronenberg never repeats the trick, however, giving us instead variations on the theme, the most surprisingly effective of which has a security guard relive a traumatic but unspecified memory of his mother, leaving him in a state of emotional collapse. The final Scanner dual may be driven by prosthetic effects, but they are at least good prosthetics (courtesy of the brilliant Dick Smith), and accompanied by Howard Shore's doom-soaked score the scene has a sense of sad destruction very typical of Cronenberg's early work, and concludes in a manner that is open to at least three possible interpretations.

Performance wise, Scanners saw the last of the iffy male leads that were always the weak point in the director's earlier films, something that was to end sharply with James Woods and Videodrome. Stephen Lack was apparently cast for his penetrating eyes, and they really are something, very effectively selling the idea of physical power unleashed through the mind, but asked to deliver dialogue he is pancake flat, devoid of emotion or any real inflection. But, once again, help is at hand in the supporting cast. Where The Brood had Oliver Reed and Samantha Eggar, Scanners has Patrick McGoohan and Michael Ironside. Despite constant arguments with the director over the characters and script changes (Cronenberg admits he was writing it as he went along), McGoohan is at his most effectively low key here, pressed down by the weight of corporate judgment and his own past mistakes, but finding new hope in his young protegé. But as the powerful and dangerous Revok, Michael Ironside effectively steals the film, his facial contortions when scanning a disturbingly convincing mixture of malicious intent, physical struggle and satisfaction. It's a marvelous turn that set the actor on a career that was to be littered with tough guy roles, and remains one of his most enjoyable and impressive performances. It should be noted that Scanners was the film that brought Ironside to prominence, and he would not have been recognised by a 1981 audience and would thus not have raised eyebrows when he cautiously volunteers to take part in the scanner demonstration. Cronenberg fans will also be overjoyed to find regular bit player Robert Silverman giving another enjoyably eccentric performance, this time as Scanner artist Benjamin Pierce.

Though there are more populist elements incorporated into the action – exploding cars, shop windows gas stations and computers – and the editing pace is sometimes up at action movie speed, the rest is Cronenberg to the core. Occasionally he does stumble, as with the presentation of the positive side of scanning as a sort of communal telepathic meditation, which is jarringly clunky in its literal description of the shared thoughts (especially when you consider how effectively suggestion is used elsewhere), and the sudden introduction of a thought voice-over for Paul Ruth smacks of hurried plot-clearing. But for the rest of the time he's flying, exploring favourite themes with an energy and storytelling drive that has prevented the film from seriously dating, despite the occasionally archaic technology on display. Sound in particular is used to arresting effect, the scans building in intensity through a combination of powered bass notes, electronic growls and rising whines, the mental condition of those who survive the attacks being vividly suggested through the garbled remains of their audible thoughts. So flawed it may be, but Scanners remains a terrific horror/sf crossover, and an essential slice of Cronenberg cinematic meat.

Oh joy. Taking a leaf from MGM's region 1 release of The Brood, Anchor Bay have delivered an anamorphic 1.85:1 transfer that is frankly as good as the film has ever looked, probably better. The contrast is a tad harsh in a couple of places, but on the whole this is a very nice job, with sharpness, colour and black levels all very good indeed. Will someone now do the same for Rabid and Shivers?

There are three soundtracks available here – Dolby 2.0 stereo, 5.1 and DTS. Though the stereo track may be closest to the original release, the 5.1 and DTS mixes are actually rather good – although there is little in the way of surround work, the increased clarity and punch really deliver in the scanning sequences, but also emphasise the slight hiss heard behind the dialogue, which is presumably down to the original recording and mix. Some dialogue comes over rather loud on the DTS track, and moments of high-pitched sound and music can be a little shrill. Otherwise, a rather nice job.

The main extra feature here is The Directors: The Films of David Cronenberg (59:02), a single programme from Robert J. Emery's 1999 US TV series on noted movie directors. Built around an extended interview with the always fascinating Cronenberg, it includes a few words from some of the actors he has worked with, including Michael Ironside, who talks about the director and his disturbing dreams. Possibly most enthusiastic is Holly Hunter, who is very positive about Crash and her role in it, which should annoy Daily Mail readers even more. Narrated in a voice that reminded me of Biography Channel documentaries and backed by tinkly music, this is a reasonably detailed overview of Cronenberg's film career, although Fast Company, The Brood and M. Butterfly are skipped over with barely a nod. The programme is framed in its original 4:3 aspect ratio, the sound stereo 2.0. It should be noted that this same documentary is also set to appear on Anchor Bay's region 2 release of The Brood.

Inside Scan: Scanners (8:28) is a short but informative overview of the film by horror journalist Alan Jones (who used to write for Starburst, as it happens). It contains some spoilers, but thoughtfully announces this at the start, so should be watched after the film.

There are 3 Trailers, one each for Scanners, Scanners II – The New Order and Scanners III – The Takeover. If you haven't seen the tawdry sequels and don't have the three-film box set (and I don't, thank you very much), the second and third provide a brief glimpse at what lesser talents did with Cronenberg's baby. The trailer for Scanners (2:12) is an edited lift of the head exploding sequence. All of the trailers are 4:3.

The Brood Trailer (2:47) is there to remind you of Anchor Bay's other new Cronenberg release. It's 4:3, in less than sparkling shape, but is intriguingly put together, despite the voice-over.

Film Notes provide brief background information on the film in white text against a could-be-clearer background. They do provide warning of the threatened remake, though.

There are brief but succinct Biographies of Cronenberg and actors Jennifer O'Neil, Patrick McGoohan and Michael Ironside.

Stills features 18 publicity photos, 2 posters and the cover of the press pack (I have that somewhere). All are reproduced at a decent size.

Scanners is classic early Cronenberg, a very smart, tightly paced and visceral slice of mind-and-body horror that has stood the test of time well, and weathers well Stephen Lack's unanimated delivery and a few plot hiccups caused by on-the-fly scriptwriting through Cronenberg's handling and fine work from the supporting players. Anchor Bay's new region 2 release delivers on the picture and sound quality and on a couple of good extras, but this still cries out for a Cronenberg commentary. Until a full blown special edition appears, though, this will do nicely.