Watch a cult classic #3: Scanners

David ‘Dave Deprave’ Cronenberg, the so-called “king of venereal horror”. Scanners proved a hit for the Canadian auteur, and would remain his most bankable film until his Oscar-winning remake of The Fly (1986).

Stephen Lack plays Cameron Vale, our unblinking hero. Patrick McGoohan ditches his clean-cut The Prisoner image to play thinktank employee Dr Paul Ruth. Jennifer O’Neill – the former equestrienne would go on to secure eight husbands – is Vale’s reluctant ally.

Vale is a ‘scanner’: a telepath who’s able to read the thoughts of strangers. After being observed inducing a seizure in an onlooker, he’s recruited by ConSec, a government contractor which sees both the value and the danger that scanners present. However, at a demonstration of the subgroup’s abilities, a scanner attempting to read the mind of Darryl Revok (a wolfish Michael Ironside) has his mind blown – literally – by the test subject.

An earlier treatment written by Cronenberg featured a “psychic rapist” who’d go on to be trained in espionage. The key ingredients likely came from William S. Burroughs’ 1959 novel Naked Lunch, which features totalitarian psychics called ‘Senders’. Cronenberg would go on to direct an adaption of Naked Lunch (1991) starring Peter Weller.

Both, although the central premise of Scanners is campy. The story includes some light-hearted moments: questionable clay busts, and a Lenin-like “yoga master” played by Fred Doederlein who can’t even manage double pigeon pose. Tonal shifts like these could be due to Scanners’ famously harried production (Cronenberg was apparently writing dialogue before actors arrived on the set each day).

That’s it. Make-up artist Dick Smith – of The Godfather (1972), The Exorcist (1973) and Taxi Driver (1976) – is the man behind cinema’s most famous ‘head shot’, as Revok blows his interrogator’s skull apart in a dizzying flash of blood and brain fragments. Hopefully cinemagoers weren’t enjoying cherryade with their popcorn.

Renée April’s costume design allows Lack to work his way through a hierarchy of 80s wardrobes. When tasked to infiltrate the scanner underground, his homeless rags are replaced with suave camel skin. He later sports white pastels, which make him look like a cricketer without branding.

Composer Howard Shore marks his second of 18 collaborations to date with the director by delivering a shrieking violin theme, and oppressive low-end rumbles. That this is the same man who wrote the jaunty piano melody to Big (1988) is testament to his abilities.

The Shining (1980) boasts another frayed protagonist and invasive voices, while The Fury (1978) again features government-sponsored telepaths, and Kirk Douglas as a scientist whose son is of interest to the suits.

One character’s brutal shotgun dismemberment seems to foreshadow RoboCop (1987). Scanners also does a fine job of predicting the toll of chatter on our brains – imagine if your social media stream was something that you couldn’t shut off, or hide in your pocket. You might start blowing heads up too.

Uri Geller may have mired the concept of ESP, but there’s no disputing the groundbreaking hacking scene. “You do have a nervous system, and so does a computer”, purrs Patrick McGoohan. “You can scan the computer.” The result is a treat for action fans.

The film inspired a slew of sequels and spin-offs, none of which Cronenberg is affiliated with. Vale’s ‘conversations’ with the BBC Acorn-like computer predate Tron (1982), and Robert Silverman’s falsetto cackle as artist Ben Pierce has a touch of Heath Ledger’s Joker.

If a stranger’s thoughts coming out of your mouth sounds appealing, have a look at How to Get Ahead in Advertising (1989), Bruce Robinson’s acerbic follow-up to Withnail & I (1987). If you fancy going down the telepath hole, how about an entire street of them? Village of the Damned (1960) and its classroom of psychically-bonded children is still a chilling watch – and every teaching assistant’s worst nightmare.