Limitless

This weekend, I watched Limitless. This film is based on the novel, The Dark Fields, by Alan Glynn. I haven’t read the book but what attracted me to the film was the premise:

Unshaven and unfocused, living in a grungy Chinatown walkup [sic] and frequenting the last bar in Manhattan…Eddie is stuck on Page 1 of a long-overdue novel.

The whole time I was watching this, I kept thinking that this must be Flowers for Algernon had it been written by Philip K. Dick. A poor and lowly NYC writer with no motivation or inspiration to write is given the opportunity to take an illicit pill to open up his mind and clear his way of thinking. In four days, he has his novel.

When the film came out, a writerly friend of my mine was appearing in one of those short TV spots that they air in the back of cabs. He was being interviewed about this film (which he hadn’t seen) and was asked if he would ever take an imagination-boosting pill if it existed. His response was no–probably because he is one of those people that actually likes being a suffering artist.

Granted, the movie didn’t live up to the expectations I had (there are many plot holes and plot points that are completely abandoned and forgotten) but still enjoyable. It was fantastic to see Bradley Cooper’s change throughout from struggling writer to high-powered financial phenom.

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