Douglas Trumbull directs Christopher Walken, Natalie Wood and Louise Fletcher in this tale of corporate skullduggery around an invention that records and shares experiences.

Quite possibly the worst film I have watched in a decade. The first hour spins its wheels with blah blah blah over redesigning the headset of the mind recorder doohickey and subdued boardroom meetings about its applications. Then we get various negative examples of its use, a hacking sequence where the security guys just let the hacker hack in “just to see if he is as good as he really thinks he is”, then a bit of corporate espionage mainly in a hotel hallway, then a slapstick grand finale which appears to come straight out of a Macauly Culkin movie with guards falling about in foam and accidentally being picked up by rampant forklift trucks. Walken is subdued… Everyone else seems to be working from differing scripts. Insultingly glaring product placement abounds… The worst scene being when Walken pops downstairs to eat a large bag of Ruffles leaving a psychotic break inducing tape on his headset for his son to accidentally experience. So inelegant, directionless, pointless and lacking any iota of value that you can see why MGM tried to claim the insurance on it as an aborted production when Natalie Wood’s died towards the end of her filming schedule.

1