When you assume a primitive understanding of early internet technology and have characters saying things like, “it’s a mainframe computer company,” I’m in hog heaven. Really. I saw this one on Pay-Per-View as a kid and rediscovered it today. It fits in well with the other 90s-era technophobic thrillers, such as Shocker, The Lawnmower Man, Virtuosity, and Brainscan.
A serial murderer, who the media calls The Address Book Killer, is on the loose. Early on, TWA employee Terry Munroe (Karen Allen) loses her address book. Even more predictable: the killer has acquired her contacts and plans on killing them one by one. On the way to the first address, he loses control of his car and plunges into a cemetery, cackling hysterically. Taken to the hospital in critical condition, a lightning storm strikes just as the killer dies in an MRI scanner, allowing his soul to enter the hospital computer system and the internet itself.
When Munroe realizes her acquaintances are dying in freak “accidents,” she teams up with disgraced computer hacker, Bram Walker (Chris Mulkey). Meanwhile, Munroe’s sex-obsessed son, tries to convince his babysitter to bare her breasts. The kid’s a con artist, a subplot which is forgotten almost as soon as it’s brought up. Arrested Development’s Jessica Walter plays the grandmother, which is pointless, but fun nonetheless.
The real fun begins when the movie would have us believe everything in the early 90s was already connected to the “world wide web,” including ATMs, traffic lights, curling irons, and microwave ovens. At one point the killer’s data-geist slips into Munroe’s house and targets the family dog. The dog is just lazing around, as dogs do, when the television plays a program which makes the dog so horny he hunches the coffee table. You don’t have to look too closely to see the string the filmmakers tied around the dog’s hips to accomplish this special effect.
I’m also a fan of director Rachel Talalay’s Freddy’s Dead and Tank Girl, the latter of which appears to have found a cult following. Ghost in the Machine is the film Talalay made between those two, which at first glance seems like a step down in absurdity. Then you get to the strange happenings, filmed Final Destination style, which concoct convoluted ways of putting the characters in danger. About fifty minutes in there’s a brilliant scene in a crash-test facility that’s so wild I laughed uncontrollably for several minutes. Later, there’s a dishwasher with a digital readout so it can notify the audience when it’s entering its “EXPLODE” and “DIE” cycles.
Talalay is clearly in on the joke here, but I’m not so sure her stars got the memo. Okay, I’m sure Allen and Mulkey knew it wasn’t Shakespeare, but there’s no winking at the camera, no hamming it up. I’m going to recommend this to anyone who appreciates fine cheese. My favorite part is when Munroe’s son elbow drops a ghost with reckless abandon.
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