Review: A Scanner Darkly

There goes a total dope fiend.

If your knowledge of A Scanner Darkly were limited to the contents of the film's trailer, you'd think it's a science fiction movie. You'd have no reason to think it's a movie about drug addiction, but that's exactly what it is. A Scanner Darkly isn't a sci-fi movie, or more accurately, it's a sci-fi movie only in the way that Gattica is a sci-fi movie. Though taking place in the future and relying on futuristic technology, ASD, like Gattica, never lets these elements become characters in the story. Rather, these elements act on the characters from outside the main focus of the story, which is concerned with the very human struggles of (relatively) ordinary people. Don't get me wrong--it's a great trailer, albeit a little misleading. An animated drug movie is a hard bird to take to market. An animated sci-fi movie based on a novel by Philip K. Dick is a little easier to wrap your head around.

A Scanner Darkly tells the story of a cop and a criminal. "Fred" (Keanu Reeves) is the code name of an undercover narcotics agent who reports anonymously to the police, who are doing all they can to contain a near-future drug epidemic caused by a deadly new narcotic called Substance D. "Fred" reports to his superiors and performs all his official police functions while wearing a "scramble suit", a hi-tech full-body holographic covering that masks his identity both visually and aurally. Likewise, his superiors and fellow officers wear scramble suits, creating a double-blind method of law enforcement. Fred is undercover providing information on D addict Bob Arctor and his circle of D-head friends, two of which live with Arctor at his house. During a meeting with "Hank", his direct superior, Fred is told that they've received a tip that Bob Arctor has considerably more money than his meager day job can account for, and that he is to become the focus of Fred's investigation, which will now include 24-hour holographic scanning and recording of every room of Arctor's house. This presents Fred with a dilema he can't bring to Hank without breaching the code of anynomity, because Fred is Bob Arctor. And Bob Arctor is a Substance D addict and suspected dealer.

The two halves of my brain...are competing?

To make matters even worse for Fred/Arctor, there's the very nature of Substance D itself. Highly addictive and new enough for the long-term effects to be largely unknown, it's a ride nobody ends on their own, not without a stint in a neural aphasia clinic. "There are no 'weekend warriors' on the D," Arctor's friend and roommate Jim Barris muses. "You're either on it...or you haven't tried it." What is known about D is that it causes serious brain damage, not only to the hemispheres of the brain, but to the connecting tissue that passes signals between them. Each hemisphere senses the damaged areas of the other and attempts to compensate, while the other hemisphere is unaware of the compensation, effectively splitting the addict's brain into two entites vying for control. The more Bob Arctor abuses Substance D, the less aware he is that he is also Fred, and the less Fred is aware that he is also Arctor. Soon the concept that he is narcing on himself is totally beyond his grasp.

How many caps do you take per day?

Bob Arctor's world is populated by drug addicts, and it's through these characters that A Scanner Darkly's sense of humor shines. This is a funny movie for one that looks at its grim subject matter so seriously. Jim Barris (a perfectly cast Robert Downey Jr.) is a smug fast-talking intellectual with a conspiracy theory for every occasion and a fondness for projects that never quite work (how to make a silencer out of toilet paper rolls, how to extract a pure gram of cocaine from items available at the corner store for less than $3). Ernie Luckman (Woody Harrelson) is an intense and imposing clown who'd be frightening if he were a little more serious. Charles Freck (Rory born-on-a-green-light-daddy-o Cochrane) is a twitching paranoid wreck whose D addiction has progressed to full-blown halucination. Freck opens the movie, believing himself to be covered with bugs. After several showers and a dousing with insecticide he phones Barris to gripe. "They're aphids; I looked 'em up. They're everywhere--in my hair, on my skin, in my lungs. And the pain, Barris...it's unreasonable!"

Above them all is Donna Hawthorne (Wynona Rider), Bob Arctor's almost girlfriend. Fred is using her as part of his investigation, buying larger and larger quantities of D from Donna until she can't front the money for his purchases and must refer him up the ladder. Bob is ernestly, achingly in love with her. Though emotionally approachable, Donna shies away from any form of physical intimacy, and the frustration of this unrealized romance fuels Arctor's confusion and drug use. Her power extends even to the author: the sympathetic yet unattainable brown-haired girl is a recurrent figure in Philip K. Dick's writing.

What does a scanner see? Into the head? Into the heart?

Other recurring themes in Dick's writing that are on display in ASD are schizophrenia (though never diagnosed, Dick often wondered that he might be schizophrenic) and the phantom twin. (Dick's twin sister died just days after their birth. He is now buried next to her.) The two opposing characters of Arctor's consciousness are only partly aware of each other and unable to understand they are the same person. Lapsing into depression, the brain damaged Arctor hopes that Fred will be able to help him by studying the holographic recordings of the scanners that blanket his house, hoping the inhuman surveillance devices will offer up some insight he's incapable of himself. Keanu Reeves may not be considered the most flexible actor of his generation, but this is a role he is perfect for. He is able to convincingly show us all sides of Bob Arctor--spacey jovial head, dedicated cop, doting boyfriend, and powerless addict. The part calls for a high degree of numbness, and Reeves carries it off without seeming like he's fishing for an Oscar or rehashing Ted Theodore Logan.

That sure is some silencer!

Deserving at least as much praise as Reeves is the supporting cast. Woody Harrelson and Rory Cochrane both could've overacted shamelessly in what are essentially two comic relief druggie roles, but here they display subtlety and deft comic timing that perfectly sells the sly humor of the book. Wynona Ryder has a more complex task in Donna Hawthorne, a woman torn in many opposing directions. Called upon to present a broader emotional range than any other cast member, she delivers across the board. She also makes a hell of an argument for rotoscope porn. As Jim Barris, Robert Downey Jr. is on like only he can be. Barris is a paranoid, fast-talking techie; through him Downey is able to spout off a practically endless stream of funny lines, and there's a knife behind every single one of them. He does a great job of portraying the kind of guy nobody really likes, even the people in his social group, and he's consistently funny while doing it. Not too shabby.

The majority of A Scanner Darkly's press focused on its look, and with good reason. Director Richard Linklater, who also adapted the novel for the screen, used an animation technique called "rotoscoping", which he also utilized on his previous film, Waking Life. With rotoscoping, live actors are shot with digital video cameras, then the live footage is "painted" over. The result is something that straddles the line between live action and cartoon, and the look fits the subject matter and tone of the movie perfectly. It creates a realistically detailed unreality that reflects the mindset of the drug-addled characters. As unique as the visuals are, after a few minutes of viewing you stop gawking at them and focus on the plot and characters, which is a testament to the strength of the film behind the animation.

Fans of Dick's novel will appreciate that Richard Linklater has crafted a very faithful adaptation. Still, there are a few changes that those familiar with the book will find somewhat jarring. The character of Jerry Fabin is gone, his actions being performed in the movie by Charles Freck. (In the book Fabin has the bug problem, not Freck.) In the movie we learn within the first 20 minutes that Substance D has an organic componnent, while in the book this is a Big Reveal saved for near the end. The movie also discloses the identity of the tipster informing against Arctor very early, which was another Big Reveal in the novel. I was surprised to find that these changes didn't negatively affect the movie. I suspect the changes to the two Big Reveals were done to keep the ending of the movie more focused on Arctor.

What do you think about the New-Path?

A Scanner Darkly was a highly autobiographical novel for Philip K. Dick. After his fourth marriage fell apart in 1970 he abandoned writing and lived communally with a rotating group of young drug addicts for two years. It was during this time that Dick's well-known amphetamine use reached its peak. In the novel's moving afterward, Dick likens drug abuse to a group of children playing in the street; every day they watch as more and more of their friends are cut down by traffic, but they still keep playing. Dick believed these people were punished far too harshly for their quest for a good time. A list of casualties, himself among them, immortalizes his friends lost or permanently damaged by the experience. "They remain in my mind, and the enemy will never be forgiven," he wrote. "The 'enemy' was their mistake in playing. Let them all play again, in some other way, and let them be happy."

Philip K. Dick wrote A Scanner Darkly to illustrate the consequences of serious drug abuse, and Richard Linklater's film remains devestatingly true to that end. It's an enjoyable and entertaining movie, but one with a heavy cloak of sadness. The tagline reads, "Everything is not going to be OK," and that's very true. For all its humor, ASD is not an upbeat movie. Does it leave hope for the future? Yes, but that hope comes at a terrible cost. A Scanner Darkly raises questions about the consequences of our actions, the nature of identity, the ethics of the war on drugs, the commercialization of the medical industry, and the use/abuse of surveilance techniques by law enforcement. Rather than preach a message to its audience, it invites its viewers to ponder these issues for themselves. It's a film that will weigh heavily on your thoughts after you watch it, making you an active participant rather than a popcorn-chewing observer. It's a serious film for serious consideration. If that sounds like what you're looking for, I can't recommend it highly enough.

I'm writing this review too late for you to seek out ASD in the theater, and this is the first time on this blog that I honestly apologize for the lateness of a post. You'll now have to wait for the DVD, which at the time of this writing doesn't yet have a release date, but I'm betting it'll show up sooner rather than later. While you're waiting there are two things I encourage you to do. First, read the book. Second, go to Rotten Tomatoes, who are hosting a hi-quality streaming clip of the first 24 minutes of A Scanner Darkly. It's a great way to preview the film. How many times have you seen that episode of Drew Carey that just started? Turn it off and watch the first 24 minutes of ASD instead. Do it. Trust me.

Friday Fiver: just the facts, ma'am

It's a good thing I'm usually at least a day late when I answer the Friday Fiver. These questions would've been really boring if I'd had to answer them with Thursday night's data. Not that my Friday night was a hedonistic extravaganza of Caligulan extremes. Well, judge for yourself.

1. Where were you last night?













I was at my friends R&T's house, engaged in the great American passtime called poker. After working 10 hours on a Friday I deserved a little relaxation and petty gambling. I got both.

2. Did you speak with anyone?
Yes. It's difficult to play poker without speaking with anyone, unless you're playing online poker. At the very least you've got to offer up a profane diatribe whenever someone makes off with your money. BlueMule was sitting directly to my right, which meant I had free licence to offer up profane diatribes without provocation. He deserves them all.

3. What were you wearing?
Well, since I went to the game directly from work, I was still wearing my work clothes. Jeans. A grey plaid shirt. Socks. Underwear (boxers). Shoes (black Rockports). One wedding ring. One watch. Two earrings. One pair of glasses. Oh, and a cock ring.

4. What did you eat or drink?
I drank two bottles of Rock Art Whitetail Ale. Rock Art has become my favorite beer over the past year or so; they're a great little local microbrewery based in Morrisville, VT. Give 'em a try. My favorite is their Brown Bear, but that's hard to come by. I also had a couple sips of a tasty hard cider (also locally made) and one sip of red wine to remind myself that I really don't like red wine. I didn't eat anything at the game (T had made some deviled eggs, but I'm not a deviled eggs kinda guy), but on the way home I stopped at The McDonald's That Time Forgot (located in Randolph, VT, for those of you who haven't experienced it) and waited a full 20 minutes in the drive-thru lane for 2 plain cheeseburgers, large fries, and a bottled water. At least the fries were fresh and hot.

5. Can anyone verify your whereabouts from midnight to 5:00am?
Why? Was Moby murdered? My wife can sort of verify my whereabouts. She was asleep, but I was in bed with her. I know she knows I came to bed, because she woke up and greeted my with her patented "Whatthehellareyoudoing?"

I'd like to thank...Microsoft?

I'm not the world's biggest Microsoft supporter, but I'm not their biggest naysayer either. Remember a few years back when the U.S.A. was the #1 technology country in the world? How sure are you that would've happened without the folks in Redmond, WA creating the dominant computer operating system? Who is the better Star Trek captain--Kirk or Picard?

I tend to give most of Microsoft's big new ideas a wide berth for a while. It took me a long time to give up the DOS prompt for the GUI environment of Windows 95 that's now practically synonomous with desktop computing. When the world made the jump to XP I lingered on in relative comfort in Windows 2000 by choice more than anything else. Even after moving on to XP it took me well over a year of daily use before I embraced the XP GUI and jettisoned Windows Classic. So far neither Microsoft nor Google have convinced me that my life would be substantially improved by installing a desktop search engine.

One of Microsoft's big pushes I've been slow to adopt is the "live" nature of Windows Updates. From Windows 2000 I was used to--and comfortable with--manually browsing to www.windowsupdate.com and downloading the latest patches. With XP Microsoft introduced the concept of live updates as a service. I'm generally not a big fan of software on my PC connecting to the internet and downloading updates without my telling it to. It just has a Demon Seed-esque bad idea feel to it. However, when I built my current desktop PC I put a deliberate emphasis on modern technology. Part of this is because I'm an IT professional, and part of it is because I'm a PC geek; either way, I wanted to expose myself to as many current technologies as possible that I hadn't worked with before. I decided to include the "live" feature of Windows Update in that configuration. Of the 3 PCs on my home network, my primary desktop is the only one that automatically receives Windows Updates, then prompts me to install them. Microsoft has been using this method of delivery with much success for the duration of Windows XP's reign, so it's a proven Microsoft technology. Right?

Sure, keep sayin' it.

Last Thursday was Patch Thursday, the monthy release date of Windows Updates. When I logged into my PC after work there was an icon in my system tray politely notifying me that I had a handful of Windows Updates downloaded and ready, and would I care to install them? Having used the service for the past 10 months without incident I had no reservations about accepting the updates and rebooting. But a funny thing happened when I rebooted and logged back in. That's funny strange, not funny ha-ha. I couldn't connect to the Internet. Firefox and IE couldn't find any web servers, Outlook couldn't find my mail servers, and my big bad PC was ostensibly cut off from the wide area world. My cable modem's lights didn't indicate any service disruption, and my router appeared to be working normally too. A quick check with my other PCs showed me that there was nothing wrong with my Internet connection--only the one PC was affected. I began to feel particularly annoyed.

A recurring theme of my job is helping people with Internet connections, so I knew I had a few steps to go through before I had to start scratching my head. The standard methods of restoring my connection bore no results. Furthermore, I could see my other local devices on the LAN just fine, so I knew it wasn't a matter of equipment failure. I checked my network connection's TCP/IP settings against those of my other PCs and could find no settings that had changed. I switched network ports (my motherboard sports two Gigabit adapters) and still could not connect, though I noted that the connectivity lights on the Ethernet ports were normal. I took the router out of the equation by connecting my PC directly to my cable modem. I disabled my firewall, albeit only briefly, just enough time to test my connection. (The last I heard it took a non-firewalled XP PC exposed to the Internet 8 minutes to get infected. Practice safe computing, folks. Get a quality firewall, anti-virus and anti-spyware programs, and a router with NAT, even if you only have one PC.) Then I remembered the third hard drive in my PC, sitting nearly forgotten due to the Creative X-Fi's total lack of Linux support. I rebooted my PC into Ubuntu Linux, which apart from not being able to work with my hot shit sound card I like very much. When you can connect to the Internet in Linux on the same PC that Windows fails on, you know Microsoft has seriously left your cheese in the wind.

Anger flared. The desire to destroy small shatterable objects arose briefly but was not indulged. Instead I decided to listen to Mastodon's new CD "Blood Mountain" really fucking loud for a few minutes, then fly around space blowing shit up in DarkStar One. It's good therapy, and you don't have to clean up broken glass afterward.

My PC remained isolated throughout Friday. I had a tooth pulled Friday morning, so I wasn't exactly in the mood for heavy troubleshooting. I checked once in a while, hoping that what magically broke would magically fix itself. I knew better. Microsoft magic don't flow that way. More loud metal. More dead space pirates.

Saturday morning, armed with two little cups of applesauce and a whole day of free time, I decided to dig into the problem a little more. The restarting of services and checking of the hosts file were among the ideas of mine that failed to produce any results. I even turned to yet another big MS idea--restore points--to get back onto the Internet, but rolling my system back to before Thursday night didn't work either. On one of my other PCs I spent a good long time looking through the MS Knowledge Base and the Windows Update Newsgroup for some guidance but came up emptyhanded, a fact I was more than happy to espouse about when Microsoft picked the wrong day to ask me to participate in a customer satisfaction survey. The point I tried to make to those on the other end of the survey was that if Microsoft was going to fuck up my system by installing critical security updates, the least they could do is prominently post a fix on their website. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so.

Fucking Microsoft.

Charter is my ISP, and I've loved them for the two-and-a-half years I've subscribed to their hi-speed cable service. They even have decent customer service. I knew my problem wasn't their fault, but I was fresh out of ideas. Maybe they'd be able to help. I gave them a call on their toll-free number and spent a few minutes grunting at the automated assistant until a live tech support agent became available. I explained my problem and what I had done to troubleshoot it to him, and he actually appeared to listen and, for the most part, understand. He tried a few things that were decent suggestions but didn't pan out. Finally he gave me a toll-free number with which to contact...Microsoft! The very cause of my plight, and he was suggesting I call them for help?! To be honest, the thought had never crossed my mind.

I had little faith that calling Microsoft and suggesting they fix what they had broken (I'd be more polite than that, of course.) would do anything but make my still uneaten applesauce get a little warmer, but I was out of options, so a free tech support line sounded better than another day of checking my email through Charter's sluggish web interface on my wife's PC. (That the tech support line was free was not a given. Years ago I had a company try to charge me $75 for a tech support call to determine whether or not their $20 network card was compatible with my motherboard. That was a card that went back to the store.) At this point I had all but resigned myself to spending the rest of the weekend backing up my data and reinstalling Windows. Warm applesauce mocking me from my desk, I dialed.

I was immediately connected to a call center in Redmond, India. My already low spirits sank to igneous depths. Other tech support calls I've placed that have wound up in India have been of the script-reading variety. I was pleasantly surprised. The woman I spoke with seemed to know what she was talking about, spoke well, and listened to what I had to say. She ran through a bunch of troubleshooting steps with me, some of which I had done previously. (I know how help desks work. Even if the customer says they've already tried X you still have to have them go through it with you, so if you have to escalate the call you can say, "Yes, I tried that.") Then she had me set a system restore point (once again trying to use one Microsoft technology to save me from another) and uninstall all my network interfaces from within Device Manager. I had no particular reason to believe this would work any better than the couple dozen or so other things I had tried, but I did find it to have one unexpected perk: removing the nVidia network adapter allowed me to uninstall the nVidia firewall associated with it. Of the two NICs built into my motherboard I use the Marvell Yukon instead of the nVidia; nVidia's firewall program works only with its NIC, and with no apparent way to uninstall it I've been having to manually close it from the system tray each time I reboot for the past 10 months. No more of that, so I've already gotten my money's worth from this free tech support call.

I rebooted the PC and expected Windows to rediscover my nVidia, Marvell, and IEEE 1394 NICs and prompt me to provide drivers, but it did not. My tech support agent prompted me to go back into Device Manager, and when I did I found all 3 NICs right there, ready for use. I fired up Firefox, and lo and behold, the web showed the first signs of XP-related life in three days! Outlook pulled down mail from my three addresses. Light returned to the world. The urge to give up on computers and persue a degree in aromatherapy subsided. Space pirates would once again be slaughtered, but this time I'd be able to check for a new patch first!

I didn't think I'd say this until I'm nothing but a disembodied brain and spinal cord floating in a jar of life-sustaining futuristic liquid, but I was very happy with my Microsoft India tech support experience. Wow, just typing that feels strange. It's true, though. That was probably the finest overseas tech support I've ever dealt with. Actually no, about a year ago I talked to a Taiwan-based tech support office for Corsair memory and spoke with two guys who answered my question in a minute flat and actually seemed to have fun doing it. That was the best, but the Microsoft call was right up there. Yes, Microsoft broke my PC, but then they fixed it. And they did it for free. And they didn't even ask me for my product key.

Since restoring my Internet connection I've downloaded the 32-bit Release Candidate 1 of Windows Vista, Microsoft's upcoming operating system slated to replace XP early next year. I'm going to be blowing that Linux installation away to check out first the 32-bit, then the 64-bit preview versions of Vista. Microsoft initially promissed the moon with Vista, but over the past year has disappointingly thinned out its list of key features. I'm just hoping it doesn't suck, because it's apparently going to be the only way gamers like me will be able to get DirectX 10. That means by this time next year gamers will have no choice but to pony up for a copy of Vista if they want to see the latest generation of graphics improvements. I greet every major new operating system from Microsoft with a mixture of hope, curiosity, and dread. I love exploring new operating systems, but I know from past experience that the introduction of new versions of Windows are frequently marred by unexpected complications, unsupported software/hardware, and new features that turn out to be far less useful than the Redmond camp would like you to believe. The chance to check it out in nearly complete form months before it's commercially available--legally--is pretty sweet. I'm looking forward to getting familiar with it and putting it through its paces.

Don't fuck me at the drive-thru, Bill.