The Lawnmower Man (1992)

The Lawnmower Man is the kind of early-’90s sci-fi horror that swings for the fences, imagining virtual reality not as a toy but as a doorway to something exhilarating, terrifying, and oddly prophetic. What makes it stick is Jeff Fahey’s performance: he turns Jobe’s transformation into a haunting character journey, so the film’s high-concept tech fever dream always feels tethered to a human ache and a creeping sense of consequence. Brett Leonard’s futurist vision is messy in the way ambitious movies often are, but it’s also boldly imaginative, with a pulpy, nightmarish vibe that builds momentum as the boundaries between mind, machine, and power blur. Fair warning: it’s intense and includes disturbing material, so it’s not for everyone—but if you like sci-fi that’s unafraid to get weird, dark, and big, this one is a fascinating time capsule with real bite.

The Lawnmower Man is clearly aiming for a dark, cautionary sci-fi tale about technology turbocharging the human mind and turning a victim into a god, and you can feel the early-’90s ambition in its virtual-reality nightmare imagery. The problem is the movie leans so hard on its then-flashy effects and big ideas that the story comes off melodramatic and oddly thin, with plotting that feels more like a string of “wouldn’t it be wild if…” moments than a coherent descent. Performances and dialogue don’t always sell the emotional stakes, and what once looked cutting-edge now plays pretty cheesy, which makes the horror beats easier to roll your eyes at than fear. If you’re here for campy cyberpunk vibes and a time-capsule of VR paranoia, you might have fun; if you want smart, grounded sci-fi or sensitive handling of disturbing material (including sexual violence), this is probably not for you.