Citing science fiction's then-unpopularity in the States, Dick famously called out Americans for being "anti-intellectual." In his era, publishers saw the genre as a niche market for nerds who were interested not in complicated characters and dramatic situations but, rather, in age-old philosophical dilemmas and big ideas. Contemporary Hollywood has embraced science fiction's aesthetic but it has yet to fully grapple with the ideas that are supposed to come along with it.

Many of those ideas are represented in Dick's various works of fiction by absurd products, such as the psychiatrist Dr. Smile (a briefcase that patients use not to treat mental health problems but rather to become neurotic—and in so doing, dodge the draft), the time-and-space-bending "translation" drugs CHEW-Z and CAN-D, Penfield mood organs, a mysterious product called UBIK, and other frighteningly plausible technologies. Superpowers, such as psi phenomena and extrasensory perception, also figure in. Absurd products, dizzying intoxicants, mental illness, psychospiritual visions, mind-controlling aliens, special mutant abilities, mysterious toads and electric sheep make straightforward interpretation of the texts' action just about impossible. If you think you understood everything in a Dick story, you didn't read it closely enough.

PKD's real-life schizoid tendencies—probably, in no small part, a result of amphetamine psychosis—may have prevented him from unequivocally writing about the sort of singular, objective "reality" on which Scott's ending depends. As The Final Cut ends, we're confronted with an answer to the movie's nagging question, "Is Deckard himself a replicant?" The all-too-certain ending is another effective use of creative license on Scott's part. At the same time, it contradicts the mystical spirit of the source material. The new movie should appeal to Dick fans with subtle references just for them. It's called fan service, and they deserve it.