I read Neuromancer. I read it enthusiastically, devoured every word , and fell in love. And yet, despite my unbridled passion for the book, when I started talking about it a few months ago , I discovered all I had were vague impressions. Besides the names of a couple characters and a thing about spacefarin’ Rastafarians, I remembered absolutely nothing.
There’s a knockabout charm to Cyborg, a laid back amiability — provided a movie about post-apocalyptic crucifixions, plagues, and misery can be called amiable.
At the top of my list of experiences I don’t need recreated for me by a movie would be the frustrating tedium of phone-based customer support.
By 1992′s Split Second, Rutger Hauer had either become so good at acting bored that he seemed totally bored with the movie, or he was totally bored with the movie.
Fascinated as I was with such claptrap, I kind of understood where Billy Idol was coming from when he made Cyberpunk. Pretty much everyone dismissed the album, Idol fans didn’t want to hear a bunch of computerized crap. Electronica and industrial fans thought Idol was jumping on a bandwagon.
Merrick and Marina betray Hauer’s Wade and shoot him dead, presumably over the lack of judgment he demonstrates in choosing his outfit from the Glenn Fry ‘Smuggler’s Blues’ collection.