The Movie Reference

OK, so the film I was trying to think of a few days ago is Looker, an obscure 1981 release written and directed by (who knew?) Michael Crichton. It stars Albert Finney, James Coburn (not Roy Scheider), and Susan (post-"Partridge Family," pre-"L.A. Law") Dey.

It has this very weird plot in which a plastic surgeon, played by Finney, has a string of new patients—models (i.e. lookers), all—who come in asking him to make these very tiny and precise adjustments to their faces. They give him specifications to match—in millimeters. But it doesn't make any sense, of course, because they're all already beautiful.

It turns out that the specs come from this ad agency that has quantified the sales resulting from ads using these models and has discovered that these miniscule adjustments are necessary to perfect the models' faces, which in turn boosts sales. It all turns ominous (or should I say more ominous) when the models start—you guessed it!—dying off. Of course, our hero has to investigate. . . .

What the hell does this have to do with chemo, you ask?

Well, I'll tell you.

Another part of the plot (and this is where it's hazy in my memory—nothing to do with chemo, mind you) involves this device called the L.O.O.K.E.R. gun (I'm pretty sure the L is for laser, but I can't remember what the rest of the acronym stands for). It's kind of like a stun gun, except that instead of stunning its victims, it transfixes them. They go into this strange kind of trance, and when they come out of it, a chunk of time has elapsed. (We know this because the camera helpfully pans over to the nearest clock to clue us in.)

So what I was trying to say the other day is that sometimes, for me, the chemo fog is like being zapped with a L.O.O.K.E.R. gun. Suddenly, I am completely exhausted and just zonk out, and then I wake up and discover that hours and hours have passed. It takes me a few minutes (and many blinks) to get over the disorientation.

Hence the Looker reference.

Thanks for indulging me.