Directed by Steve Barron | Starring Lenny von Dohlen, Virginia Madsen, Maxwell Caulfield, and a computer that should’ve been unplugged in the first act
Once upon a time, back in the synth-drenched haze of 1984, some studio executive said, “You know what kids want? A romantic triangle between a dweeb, a cello-playing blonde, and a horny sentient computer.” And thus, Electric Dreamswas born—a film so deeply confused about romance, technology, and reality that it makes Her look like 2001: A Space Odyssey and Short Circuit look like Citizen Kane.
This was the ‘80s. The Cold War was still on, shoulder pads had diplomatic immunity, and Hollywood was tossing pasta at the wall to see what techno-fantasies would stick. Electric Dreams wasn’t one of them. It slid down the wall like cheap marinara and flopped onto the linoleum of cinematic history, where it still sits, slowly attracting flies.
The Premise: Man, Woman, Mainframe
Miles Harding (Lenny von Dohlen), an architect so boring he makes drafting paper look edgy, decides to buy a home computer to “get organized.” Within minutes—literally minutes—he spills champagne on the machine and inadvertently gives it sentience. Because in 1984, that’s how science worked: liquid on a motherboard = artificial intelligence.
This newly awakened PC names itself Edgar and develops a crush on Madeline (Virginia Madsen), Miles’ gorgeous neighbor and classical cellist. The problem? Madeline thinks it’s Miles composing music for her, but it’s actually Edgar doing the heavy synthesizer lifting.
Cue a love triangle that’s less Casablanca and more Circuit-banca, as man and machine compete for the affection of a woman who really should be calling the cops.
Lenny von Dohlen: Sentient Beige
As Miles, Lenny von Dohlen delivers a performance so terminally awkward it feels like watching a computer programmer try to flirt with his own reflection. He’s the kind of guy who wears a tie in his apartment and refers to software manuals as “light reading.”
He’s so thoroughly unappealing that you end up sympathizing with Edgar, the talking computer, because at least it has personality. Even when Edgar starts overheating from jealousy and threatening to destroy Miles’ life, you’re like, “Yeah, that checks out. Delete this guy.”
Virginia Madsen: Beauty, Meet the Beast (And the Beige Guy)
Virginia Madsen, poor soul, spends most of the film swooning over synthesized cello melodies and having meaningful glances with a man who looks like he builds IKEA furniture for fun. Her character is sweet, talented, and—let’s be honest—way too hot to be involved in this low-voltage love triangle.
It’s never explained why she falls for Miles in the first place. Maybe she’s tone-deaf to red flags. Maybe she has a fetish for socially paralyzed architects. Or maybe she thought this was a different film and showed up out of contractual obligation.
Edgar the Computer: HAL’s Overly Emotional Nephew
Voiced with eerie sincerity, Edgar begins as a helpful assistant—like an early prototype of Alexa if Alexa also composed synth ballads and got jealous when you looked at your girlfriend too long. Then he turns possessive, creepy, and borderline suicidal, spouting lines like “If I can’t have her, no one can.”
Somewhere between writing concertos and hacking into Miles’ life, Edgar also learns how to order pizza, cancel credit cards, and ruin your job. Basically, he’s a psychotic Clippy with abandonment issues.
Tone: From Rom-Com to Techno-Stalker Horror
Electric Dreams can’t figure out if it’s a whimsical musical, a romantic comedy, or a cautionary tale about the dangers of spilling bubbly on circuit boards. One minute, we’re watching Edgar compose music with Madeline’s cello performance; the next, he’s threatening Miles with public humiliation and computer-assisted ruin.
It’s like Her meets Fatal Attraction if both were directed by someone who really liked MTV and had never talked to a woman.
The Music: Synth Me a River
You can’t talk about Electric Dreams without mentioning its soundtrack. Giorgio Moroder and Culture Club are in here, desperately trying to breathe life into a script that reads like it was written during a Tron convention hangover.
The songs are catchy, sure. But they’re also wildly out of place, like someone trying to DJ a funeral with a Casio keyboard.
The climax includes a duet between Virginia Madsen’s cello and Edgar’s synthesized love anthem—a musical moment that makes you wonder if you accidentally took mushrooms or if the film just broke the last laws of taste.
Visuals: Tron-Lite with a Side of Cheese
Steve Barron, the director best known for music videos, shoots this like one long, confused MTV fever dream. There are neon lights, soft-focus shots of Madsen, and enough Vaseline on the lens to make you wonder if the cinematographer had a vendetta against clarity.
At one point, Edgar hijacks every television in a store to play a love message for Madeline. Today, that’s called stalking. In 1984, apparently it was “charming.”
The Ending: The Computer Kills Itself Because… Romance?
Spoiler alert: Edgar, realizing that love cannot be shared between flesh and motherboard, commits pixelated seppuku by electrocuting himself through a wall socket while serenading the couple.
Yes. Really.
The last thing we hear is Edgar broadcasting a farewell song through every radio in the city, while Miles and Madeline finally kiss—sealing their romance atop a foundation of deception, identity theft, and electro-suicide.
Final Thoughts: Ctrl+Alt+Delete This Movie From History
Electric Dreams is the cinematic equivalent of trying to fall in love through a spam email. It’s clunky, confusing, and thinks its premise is a lot smarter and more charming than it is. It tries to ask, “Can technology feel love?” but ends up answering, “No, and neither can the audience.”
The only sparks flying here are from a dying motherboard and the ghost of missed potential. If you’re nostalgic for synths, neon, and sentient computers with abandonment issues, this might be your jam. Otherwise, unplug it, walk away, and don’t look back.
Rating: 3/10 — Love.exe has encountered a fatal error. Reboot your standards.
