Back to the future

Len Wiseman wanted to bring his own vision — and Colin Farrell — to his Total Recall remake, writes Alan O’Riordan

A REMAKE will usually prompt one of three reactions: Why? How dare you? And, ooh, what a good idea. Director Len Wiseman’s newly minted Total Recall, it’s safe to say, has bumped up against the first two. Paul Verhoeven’s 1990 version of the Philip K Dick story had Arnold Schwarzenegger at his buffest, Sharon Stone, a three-breasted hooker, and was cartoonish and sleazy at the same time. What treasures! No wonder it still has so many partisan fans whose view of this piece of Martian shlock is as rosy-red as that planet’s atmosphere.

But memory is an unreliable thing. This writer dutifully watched Verhoeven’s Recall recently and, well, it’s not as fun as its reputation would have you believe. Its endurance rests on several unforgettably cartoonish scenes: such as when Schwarzenegger removes a bulbous, red tracking device through his nostril. The 2012 vintage doesn’t have anything quite so idiosyncratic, but its first hour has more tension and atmosphere, while its twists remain twistier for longer. It’s got Colin Farrell, a Blade Runner-ish view of future dystopia, and, yes, a three-breasted hooker.