100 Scariest Movie Moments: #6 The Shining

I’ve never read The Shining, but I have seen the mini-series that more faithfully adapted the original story. So, I understand the basic conflict between Kubrick and King. While the antagonistic forces are more clearly supernatural rather than psychological in King’s version, King’s also comes across as the stronger character piece. This was one of the movies in which Nicholson didn’t so much “act” as “stood in front of a camera being Jack Nicholson.” While Steven Weber on the other hand portrayed a much more conflicted character.

I also preferred Melvin Van Peebles in the mini-series over Scatman Crothers in the movie. I’m going to limit my comments on that to simply saying that I preferred it. Talking about why could potentially take me into a discussion of race that I don’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

This certainly doesn’t mean that I dislike the Kubrick film. To me though, it’s an art film. It puts the actors through Hell in the form of bizarre visuals with no explanation given (or at least no definitive explanation). It’s creepy and disorienting, but still has enough plot to prevent us from being jaded.

I've actually encountered people who haven’t seen this movie and don’t even know what it’s about. So to clarify: a recovering alcoholic named Jack Torrence (Nicholson), his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and his psychic son Danny (Danny Lloyd) move into a hotel that closes down for the winter. Jack has been hired to maintain the hotel during the off season, and wants to use this as a chance to write a novel while far away from the temptation of alcohol.

Unfortunately, as it turns out, the hotel is haunted by many past guests who want to drive Jack insane and get him to kill his family. Whether there was something special about Jack or if the ghosts simply target anyone vulnerable is a matter of much dispute in analyzing this film. I’m honestly uncertain which way I fall on this matter, as there’s clear evidence for both sides. In fact, most of the evidence could be interpreted either way… assuming you even accept that anything in the film is literally true at all.

One surprising thing I find on this list of movies; quite a few of them don’t feature any actual killing until near the end of the film. A major factor in creating horror is giving the audience some idea of who these people are and why we should care that they’re dying. That certainly seems to be the case in this film, in which I believe there are only two onscreen deaths; Jack himself, and Dick Hollarann (Scatman Crothers); a psychic cook who returns to the hotel in response to a supernatural distress signal sent by Danny. Both of these deaths, as well as Danny and Wendy’s near-brushes with death, are far more impactful than Jason Vorhees tearing through an army of anonymous High School students, precisely because the film spends so much time building up to them. These are human lives to be valued by the viewer, and we learn why.

If there’s a true weakness in the film, it’s Shelley Duvall. This came out two years after Alien, and we have an entirely stereotypical damsel in distress. When confronting a clearly insane Jack, she can’t even hold a baseball bat effectively. Even when Jack directly threatens her life, her attempts to defend herself look like she’s trying to shoo away an annoying house cat. She whimpers, screams, and cries throughout her role. I’m sorry, but she doesn’t come across as sympathetic, she comes across as pathetic. The idea that she successfully overpowered Jack Nicholson at one point was probably the single most unbelievable thing in this movie. I understand that Kubrick cut a fair amount of Duvall’s lines because he was unsatisfied with her performance, and I don’t blame him one bit.

I recommend the film. I recommend watching it in close proximity, if not back-to-back, with the mini-series (yep, came back to that again), as they represent such vastly different vision of the same basic story that I can’t imagine anyone not being fascinated by the contrast. Even on its own though, the movie is good.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #12 Misery

I would like to open this review by gushing praise at Kathy Bates. And as I do so, please consider that I’m in the process of writing reviews of 100 of the scariest movies ever made. I’m also a horror movie fan in general, and I’ve seen this movie before. But even taking all of those factors into account, Kathy Bates in the movie still terrifies me!

It’s surprising to me that this film was made in 1990, as it feels very much like a 70s film. The opening doesn’t immediately tip you off with music and lighting effects that you’re watching a horror movie. You’re supposed to figure that out from the fact that horrible things happen.

The movie initially presents itself to us as being about Paul Sheldon (James Caan), a writer trying to move on with his career after killing off the main character from his previous series, Misery Chastain. Paul makes a trip to a remote hotel where he finishes his next novel, a more serious dramatic story about slum kids. He attempts to drive home through a blizzard, and ends up crashing his car.

He’s saved by his “Number One Fan,” retired nurse Annie Wilkes (Bates), who tells him that the roads are closed because of the blizzard. Thus, he’ll need to stay with her for a time. Annie is initially presented to us as a kind, if somewhat eccentric, woman, and Paul believes that he’s lucky. Gradually however, Annie is shown to have a violent temper which can be set off by the most minor of nuisances. She lives in a fantasy land, and anything that interferes with her delusions is a cause for retaliation.

When the last Misery book finally comes out and Annie finds out that Misery is “dead,” things escalate into a full-blown hostage crisis. Paul has to attempt to write another Misery novel, bringing his character back to life (in a dramatically satisfying manner), while also trying to keep Annie calm, and trying to find a means of escape whenever she’s away.

Kathy Bates was perfect for this role because of her ability to play Annie as a dichotomous character. On the one hand, she seems to sincerely believe she’s in a romance novel, where she has to “save” Misery and fall in love with Paul Sheldon. On the other hand though, to simultaneously remain a constant threat, she also has to be aware that he wants to escape and thus be able to take measures to prevent this from happening. Her intelligence here doesn’t take away the level of sympathy we have for her. It’s clear she has severe impulse control problems and an inability to deal with reality.

James Caan’s real talent here is his ability to let the audience know when he’s playing Paul Sheldon and when he’s playing Paul Sheldon putting on an act for Annie. Most actors would simply telegraph in-character performances by making their characters terrible actors, but Caan never resorts to such cheap gimmicks. When sweet-talking, Annie he comes across as a good actor forced to read terrible dialogue, but still giving it his all.

The movie doesn’t limit itself entirely to the two of them, but they take up the vast majority of the run time. We’re given a few scenes with a local sheriff (Richard Farnsworth) trying to locate Paul (eventually being killed off by Annie). I don’t have a lot to say about those scenes. I enjoyed them, they had some nice touches of humor, and Farnsworth does a good job as Sheriff “Buster.”

By the end, Paul has figured out that Annie is a full-blown serial killer who’s killed parents, rivals, and even innocent children, and who wants to live out an insane fantasy by dying with him. As the end of the novel grows near, Paul realizes that all of this will inevitably come to a head.

The ending of the movie is fully satisfying. I’m a bit confused about how Paul was able to get home with two broken legs afterwards. The only other person who knew he was there had been killed by Annie. But that’s really not a point that I found myself dwelling on

Anyone who hasn’t seen this movie definitely should. It’s a rare horror film that wins an Academy Award for Best Actress, and there is a damned good reason this film did. It’s tense as Hell. The characters are understandable without ever being simplistic. It’s just a great movie.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #32 Pet Sematary

If I could ask director Mary Lambert one question about Pet Sematary, it would be this: The same child wanders onto the same road while a large truck is coming twice. The first time the parents sound mildly annoyed in their screams of fear, the second time they sound terrified. Why is this? Did they realize that Herman Muenster was going to save their child because it was too early in the film for tragedy to strike?

As with The Dead Zone, this is a Stephen King story that feels like it would work much better as a mini-series. The main plot doesn’t feel quite as rushed as it did in Dead Zone, but there are side plots that still feel as if they were likely intended to have more development. The most obvious of these is the character of Victor Pascow (Brad Greenquist). We’re introduced to Victor as he’s rushed to the hospital, severely injured, and dies under the care of protagonist Louis Creed (Dale Midkiff). Victor gives Louis an unbelievably vague warning,“The soil of man’s heart is stoney.’ If you know what that means, you’re doing better than me,” and then continues to appear to Louis as a ghost throughout the remainder of the film. Why is Victor’s spirit sticking around? Why does he declare in the last twenty minutes of the film that he’s not “allowed any further?” I have no clue.

There’s another subplot that seems fairly unimportant, but more than makes up for that by being the most genuinely disturbing part of the film. Rachel (Denise Crosby), Louis’ wife, tells a story about how her parents had forced her at the age of eight to stay at home while they went out to care for her ailing sister Zelda (Andrew Hubatsek). Rachel feels continuing guilt because she remembers wishing that her sister would die so that the family would be rid of her. Rachel later has visions of her sister and the evil forces try to torture her with her own guilt. Between the make-up and Hubatsek’s performance, the scenes are just messed up.

The actual plot of the film is a lot less interesting than these subplots. Louis and Rachel move to a new town, and make friends with Jud Crandall (Fred Gwynne, the aforementioned Herman Muenster), a local hick who saved their son from his first encounter with a dump truck. Apparently, the trucks run every few minutes down the road next to their house, filling up the local Pet Cemetery, but building a fence around their yard to prevent their son from wandering would be too much trouble. Eventually, their cat is hit by a truck and Jud decides to let Louis in on a secret: the locals can revive dead pets by burying them in a second Pet Cemetery (declared a Sematary by a misspelled sign written by a grieving child), not far from the first, which is on top of a Native American burial ground. (I’m not even going to waste my breath on how racist that cliché is.) This works, but the cat is noticeably more aggressive, and stinks.

Then, the evil happens! Their toddler son, Gage (Miko Hughes) is hit by another truck, and so Louis ignores Jud’s warnings and buries Gage in the Pet Sematary. However, Gage comes back, not simply as an aggressive corpse, but as a demon, killing Jud and terrorizing Louis. Rachel is killed, demon-Gage is killed, Louis deludes himself into thinking that he can get Rachel to come back non-demonically by burying her immediately instead of waiting. The movie ends with him kissing his blood-covered wife as we see her reach for a knife. Cut to black, Louis screams.

I probably made that sound fairly uninteresting, and it’s true that the main plot isn’t really anything to write home about. Watching the interviews about this film in the original 100 Movie Moments special, I find it a bit hard to understand why this film was chosen. The general consensus among those interviewed seemed to be that the movie had a groundbreaking theme of “body without soul isn’t life.” New rule: If at least two sub-genres (zombies and vampires off the top of my head) have been built entirely around an idea, you’re no longer allowed to claim that it makes your story special!

The movie’s real failing point, though, is demonic Gage. Creepy children can be effective, but the movie has a problem in basically treating Gage like any other monster, posing a physical threat despite being tiny. Even using stealth and a scalpel, I find it hard to believe that Gage was even strong enough to slice up Jud so effortlessly. Biting into his neck to severe his jugular shouldn’t even be worth considering, but the filmmakers do it anyway. Say what you will about The Omen, at least it knew that Damien wielding a weapon and physically attacking the heroes would not be frightening.

I understand that there are currently plans to remake this film, and I’m curious to see what they’ll do with it. That said, there’s nothing fundamentally “wrong” with the original. It’s cheesy, yes, but the cheese mostly works. The acting is decent, and Gwynne is somehow fun to watch, even when he’s just sitting there. I think this would be a perfect film for a Halloween movie night.

100 Scariest Movie Moments: #51 The Dead Zone

Stephen King has made no secret of the fact that he prefers the mini-series adaptations of his work over the film versions. He feels that novels are written more in the style of a television series than films, with “chapters” representing the time between commercial breaks, and “Books” or “Parts” representing episodes. I'm not sure what he thinks about the ongoing TV series based on his work. I can say that I have enjoyed what I've seen of The Dead Zone TV series, probably more than I enjoyed the movie. Still, I can't help but imagine what a Mick Garris mini-series would be like, giving the story lines time to play out, but without a lot of filler.

Why do I bring this up? Because to me, The Dead Zone movie feels extremely rushed. Our protagonist, John Smith (Christopher Walken), goes into a coma after a car accident and wakes up years later to find he now has psychic visions. Then, he has to help a sheriff hunting a serial killer. Finally, he has to try to assassinate a politician destined to bring about nuclear war when he's elected President.

Right there you have a perfect three-episode structure which has all been crammed into an hour an forty-five minutes. There are some great epiphany moments that advance the plot, but the human element seems lacking. Most of the character development goes to Johnny and his attempts to deal with what he is, leaving these other events in which he plays a role woefully underdeveloped as anything more than plot devices.

We never feel the clock ticking down as Johnny tries to locate the killer, finding him is far too easy. And when Johnny buys a rifle and goes to kill Greg Stilson (Martin Sheen), it seems like a decision he came to with surprising speed and little mental anguish. I checked the timer, he finds out about the nuclear Apocalypse within the last 20 minutes of the movie, and from there moves directly to planning Stilson's death.

While it's been years since I've seen the show, I find myself mentally comparing this movie to a filler episode in the series. In that episode, Johnny received a blood transfusion from several people, and as a result, had a vision of one of them dying. He spent the whole episode trying to track them down and touching each of their lives, only for a man he'd inspired as a writer to step in and save the female bike messenger who would otherwise have been hit by a truck. Cheesy as it was, the message there was clear; this story is as much about the people whose lives are affected by Johnny as about Johnny himself. However, this movie is purely Johnny.

Walken's performance here works well. I usually think Walken does his best work in comedy, because of his tendency to be stilted and awkward. Here though, he's portraying a man who gained psychic powers through brain damage. It makes sense that he would come across as weird.

Martin Sheen really steals every scene he's in. He's a sleazy politician, and he loves being exactly that. I wish he had more direct interactions with Walken, but I suppose that's forgivable. There's no real reason for either of them to ever really talk to the other. I suppose I give the movie points over the show for that logic. The show gave us a Johnny and Stilson who found constant excuses to talk, despite hating each other.

Of course, this all brings us to the real question: Is it scary? It didn't leave me shaking in my boots, but it did put me ill at ease. Johnny's inability to convince people that he legitimately knows the future is off putting. However, that idea in and of itself is something that's been done to death.

What scares me more is the idea of someone like Johnny; someone who has knowledge of the future, and who is willing to decide who does or doesn't deserve to live based on crimes yet to be committed. Since his actions appear to be the only thing that can change the future, presumably he is the only one of us with true free will. The idea that one person gets to judge you for what you will do, and is absolutely justified in that... yes, that terrifies me.

I do recommend this movie. Not as strongly as many on this list, but I recommend it nonetheless. It's a well-acted, well-directed movie that you won't regret seeing.

Interestingly, this is one of the few reviews I've done where I don't spoil the ending, mainly because I don't see any particular reason to do so. It just left me thinking “...yes, that's an ending.” It didn't greatly affect how I thought about anything else in the movie, so I don't see any reason to talk about it.