A Scanner Darkly

"Strange how paranoia can link up with reality now and then, briefly."

Philip K. Dick's A Scanner Darkly should be assigned to high school students. Not strictly as an anti-drug novel, but a suspenseful, disturbing look at drug addiction in a world torn asunder by narcotics, nothing is as it seems, and the metaphorical disconnect between left and right sides of the brain have disastrous consequences for a dystopic 1990s Orange County. The heads and "straights" live in separate worlds, class divides are deeply entrenched and, much like the Substance D users, the "straights" are not exactly living in a world of reality, either. Undercover narcotics agents, conspiracies, and the usual rants of drug-addled minds provide more than enough action and dark humor, including a dig at Ayn Rand. Typical for Dick, the continued obsession with metaphysics and the nature of being and reality are interwoven with this complex tale of Fred/Robert Arctor, who is investigating himself. Time, existence, or the infinite reflections and holograms exemplify this theme, something accomplished more effectively in Dick's 1960s novels than here. A mind trip nonetheless, no?

The film, the most faithful adaptation of any Dick fiction to the big screen, is marred by a jarring animation style (interpolated rotoscape), which is not to my taste. Telling Dick's story visually, however, has some advantages, mainly in illustrating physicality of the heads and their declining grasp of "reality," yet veering dangerously close to horrid stoner comedy. There are some conspicuous changes, too. The presence of race is far less apparent in the film than the novel. For example, the scene in which Barris finds out the ten-speed bike he buys from some black guys, who, in the novel, likely stole it, the race of the sellers is omitted. Likewise, numerous references to "queers" and "homosexuals" also disappears from the film, perhaps in response to changing social conventions of the 2000s instead of the dystopic fictional world of Dick's imagination and its concrete, 1970s background. If so inclined, one could write ceaselessly on Dick's writing as it relates to race and gender.