Awesome Music: The entire score, composed by Maurice Jarre, sounds alternately mysterious and adventurous, befitting a film about dream manipulation. All of it (except the sax) rendered beautifully on 1980s synthesizers.
Big-Lipped Alligator Moment: Mr. Weber's sexual-anxiety dream: a jarring interlude of trite, unfunny sex comedy in what's otherwise a pretty grim story. Alex doesn't learn anything he hadn't already learned from the construction worker's falling dream, and the characters involved are flatly-acted stereotypes. It doesn't even make sense as an example of the therapeutic use to which the researchers hope to apply their dream-walkers' revolutionary techniques, as any competent shrink should've been able to diagnose Weber's issues just by talking to him. It conveys the impression that the producer'd insisted the film needed another sex scene, so the writer peevishly shoehorned inthe ''lamest'' one imaginable.
Fridge Brilliance: Tommy's snakeman form is clearly different from the one Alex saw in the boy's dream. This makes perfect sense when you consider that all the visual reference Tommy had were Alex's rough drawings about the creature. In particular Tommy's version has a much flatter face; Alex was drawing the snakeman from the front with no sense of depth.
Hilarious in Hindsight: This A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)-competing movie was co-written by Chuck Russell, who would go on to direct the fan favorite sequel Dream Warriors. The Big Bad even has blades on his fingertips (on his right hand, no less) in one scene. He even turns into a snake at one point, just like Freddy in Dream Warriors.
This is a film about entering dreams, it has fuel for nightmares. Including visions of the apocalypse, half human/snake monsters, wolves, high anxiety, etc.
The President's dreams of nuclear annihilation would easily rate as this trope, even if they'd appeared in a non-scifi drama.
Why Would Anyone Take Him Back?: Jane is rather forgiving of Alex after he inserts himself into her dreams and had sex with her.
What Do You Mean, It's Not for Kids?: Despite its simplistic style, its definitely something kids shouldn't watch since it's filled with adult language.
, composed by Maurice Jarre, sounds alternately mysterious and adventurous, befitting a film about dream manipulation. All of it (except the sax) rendered beautifully on 1980s synthesizers.