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 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 thing they were subjected to at the time 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 this is about, but for everyone else here's a brief summing up of the plot. 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 thought. He is introduced to Dr. Paul Ruth, who explains to Vale that he is a scanner, an individual who for reasons unknown has developed telekinetic abilities, and to Ephemarol, a drug that suppresses both his telekenetic abilities and the constant chatter of other people's voices in his head. Meanwhile, ConSec have decided to demonstrate the abilities of another scanner to an invited audience, 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 kill the ConSec man. Ruth sets about convincing Vale of the danger represented by Revok and his underground group, and the importance of hunting him down.

An intriguing premise becomes 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 pre-world wide web sequence 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 his mind, 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 the one with the exploding head, still astonishingly convincing, but Cronenberg seems to confound genre logic by having it happen so early in the film rather than save 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 just how nasty it could turn. Cronenberg never repeats the trick, however, giving us 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 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 has a conclusion 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 road 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 thus he would not have been recognised by a 1981 audience and would thus not have raised eyebrows when he puts cautiously volunteers at 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, a sort of communal telepathic meditation, 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 impressive effect, the scans building in intensity with a combination of powered bass notes, electronic growls and rising whines, the condition of those who survive the attacks 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.

Sound and Vision

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 delivers in the scanning sequences, though also emphasises the slight hiss heard behind the dialogue, 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.