Philp K. Dick

Watched TOTAL RECALL, the film. It felt hurried, like one is in a hotel and check-out

time is approaching. Nice place, but one is no longer altogether there. Made me feel

anxious. And, as is currently the case in watching films these days, I stopped the

film in the middle to read about it. Should films come with programs? Re-assure me,

give me some boundaries.

It is a current commonplace about movies that no one really makes them anymore.

We are treated to a steady outporing of trivial plot- blockbusters with enormous budgets,

meant to bring in the bucks while they numb the mind. It's called marketing.

What impressed me about that movie - and all the reviewers agree on this - is the city

environment: steady downpour, drugged out 20s individuals, dirt, noise and levels of

machines. The magnetized car chase scene is unlike anything that's ever been created

in a movie, STAR WARS is in the infancy movie-making humanity on this one. And that

is the sense in which this movie is a work of science-fiction. There is a whole imlicit

projection of our current cities into the the future in the decor, a history of the yet- to- come.

They call the film dystopian, implying it is too critical, takes a dim view of things. It isn't.

Those magnetic cars are pure fantasy, I love'em.

Age matters; Philp Dick himself wrote about that. I used to spend my make-up allowance on

Dick's books and those of his confrères writing Science-Fiction at a time when - we

were living in interesting times - one could see both great peril and great promise in the

future. Dick let us into his hallucinations and confusions, drew out their premises and

conclusions, took drugs to ease the pain and feed the fear. It's called literature, and I am

grateful to him.

I remember when the Montreal Metro first opened in the 60s. I went to Montreal on my

own (who dates a girl with no make-up!?) to ride that metro, learn to navigate the place,

and appreciate the works of art. It was a Sunday afternoon, everything was new and spotless.

I was alone in my car for long stetches, and a number of the stations were empty. No mp3, no

phone, not even a camera. Just me and those whistles and rail sounds, anxious but

determined I was in the right place.

Philip Dick, I just found out, eventually had five wives, used to get married when his

girlfriends were well pregnant. Tut. But then guys in those days were nobody's aunt.