Dreamscape ★★★★½

An old favourite from the Beta days – so, we're talking junior high here – this has held onto all of its charm but I relate to its protagonist less and less over time. It's not just Dennis Quaid's smug-fuck, saxophone-playing performance – it's also the dream-seducing (more like molesting?) and yeah, pissing away psychic gifts on betting at the track against goons who can absolutely out-fight him. The track, for fuck's sake. At least the movie dunks on him a bit over it, with the threat about the IRS.

Von Sydow and Plummer are perfect, two kinds of great old-man energy they've both delivered in spades for all or most of my life: wise and mentorly, vs. cold and sinister. The special effects make me think of Hipgnosis album covers and there's a very Friday The 13th Part 2 climactic gambit.

I guess Buddy never needed the wheelchair? He mentions that his Snakeman dreams “keep making me miss Little League”, and I don't recall 1984 as a year where your Little League team is likely to make concessions for the wheelchair kid; it was novel enough that we had a girl on our team, and I didn't see that happen again.