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Posts Tagged ‘Stephen King’

India Navarette, Michael Johnston

“OBSESSION” My rating: B (Peacock)

109 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Curry Baker’s “Obsession” (he wrote, directed and edited) has been getting lots of love, and not just from horror geeks.

It deserves it.

The setup is as old as the Midas myth…a wish comes true but brings with it unexpected consequences. The delivery, though, is a slow-burn dose of creepiness featuring a couple of killer performances.

Bear (Michael Johnston, who looks like he could be Daniel Radcliffe’s little bro) has long been infatuated with his co-worker Nikki (India Navarette) but fears scaring her off  if he reveals his feelings. Bear’s pretty unsure of himself…he might still be a virgin.

But one day at a funky gift shop he picks up a novelty item called the One Wish Willow.  According to the label on the box if you take out the stick inside, snap it in two, and make a wish…well, that wish will come true.

So he wishes that Nikki would love him more than anyone else in the world.

Oh-oh.

Baker’s screenplay is a model of careful observation and unexpected eruptions.

Nikki does indeed announce her love for Bear, and they are almost immediately in a passionate romance.  She moves into his house.  She caters to his every whim.

So far, so good.

But in short order her love has turned oppressive. She’s a whimpering mess when not in his presence. She even tries to seal his front door with masking tape to keep him at home. On her day off she stands unmoving in his living room, a sickly smile of hopeful anticipation frozen on her face and a puddle of urine at her feet, until he comes back from work. 

She gets jealous — murderously so.

“Obsession” is creepy as hell.  It’s also weirdly funny.  A desperate Bear calls up the manufacturer of the One Wish Willow only to have the voice on other end (director Baker in a bored/stoned fugue) tell him that he only way to undo his wish is to die.  And Darin Toonder is grimly funny as the gift shop clerk who’s had it up to here with customers bitching about the One Wish Willow.

One generally does not turn to horror for great performances, but Navarette approaches Oscar-level intensity as Nikki, turning on a dime from caring cajoling to screaming threat.  

Be careful what you wish for.

Cooper Hoffmann, David Jonsson

“THE LONG WALK” My rating: B (Hulu)

108 minutes | MPAA rating: R

One might easily dismiss “The Long Walk” as a “Hunger Games”/“Battle Royale”  clone designed as fodder for the YA market. Especially since it was directed by “Hunger Games” veteran Francis Lawrence.

So it comes as a surprise to discover a personality-and-dialogue-driven melodrama that carries an unexpected emotional heft.

Cooper Hoffmann (yes, Philip Seymour Hoffman’s kid…you may recognize him from “Licorice Pizza”) stars as Raymond,  who as the film begins is preparing to participate in The Long Walk.

We learn (in bits and pieces sprinkled throughout the film) that 20 years ago the USA was engaged in a civil war and ever since has suffered through Depression-era hard times.

But each year the citizenry is rallied by a competition in which 50  young volunteers — one young man from each state — set off on a walk.  Special wristwatches measure their speed…if they fall below three miles per hour they run the risk of being shot by the mute and stony-faced soldiers who accompany this parade.  

There is no stopping, no sleeping, no leaving the pavement of the rural highway they are traversing. Eat, drink and defecate while maintaining a brisk pace.  Eventually — after days of nonstop movement through sun and rain— one lone survivor will be crowned the winner.

J.T. Mollner’s screenplay (based on a Stephen King novel) is remarkable in that the characters are developed almost exclusively through dialogue.  This is a walk-and-talk film…literally.  The performances are an intriguing blend of stream-of-consciousness chatter and segments in which the dialogue seems as carefully crafted as that of a stage play or classic ‘50s film.

Raymond is almost immediately befriended by Peter (David Jonsson), a black kid whose garrulous personality makes the unending drudgery of walking a bit less oppressive.  Indeed, the contestants are a regular smorgasbord of American youth — Asian, white, black, Native American. Intellectually they range from standard-issue rednecks to an aspiring author who hopes to turn his experience into a book.

What’s kinda unsettling is the way in which we the audience find ourselves participants in this exercise, sharing the ever-creeping exhaustion and growing desperation of the young men. There’s a kind of purity in the film’s narrow focus, a sort of cinematic minimalism that feels weirdly revelatory.The effect is not unlike that of “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?”

Drawbacks? Well, Mark Hamill’s performance as The Major — the officer in charge of the operation —might seem a caricature, a parody of the military martinet oozing motivational gung-ho.  But the Major is also the key to understanding what the US has become.  Clearly the civil war was not won by the humanists.

Not a happy film, but one that sticks with you long after the lights go out.

Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Stanley Tucci

“THE DEVIL WEARS PRADA 2” My rating: B- (Hulu)

119 minutes | MPAA rating: PG-13

Do we  really need “The Devil Wears Prada 2”? Especially those of us — meaning me — who  lack the fashionista gene?

So let’s admit that as time killers go, this sequel (directed by David Frankel, who helmed the original) is kinda charming.

Not for the too-familiar plotting or the clothes, but for the people.

I’m talking here mostly about Meryl Streep reprising her role as chilly, arrogant magazine editor Miranda Priestly and Stanley Tucci as her loyal doormat Nigel. (Is he gay? Straight? Sexless?)

In a weird way neither character is complete without the other. It’s a real oddball pairing, but I’d forgotten how terrific these two were together.

Of course Anne Hathaway is back as Andy.  Twenty years ago she was Miranda’s much-abused gofer girl; now she returns as a prize-winning journalist left jobless by media upheaval and hired to give Runway magazine a socially conscious vibe to go with the fashion and fluff.

Andy considered herself a serious journalist, something Miranda and Co. have little use or tolerance for. Humorous situations develop. Not to mention a hostile takeover of the mag.

Returning also is Emily Blunt as Emily, one-time Miranda acolyte now running a high-end boutique.  She’s engaged to a dweeby tech billionaire (Justin Theroux, cast against type and having the time of his life) but is at heart still a scheming witch.  She also gets the best line in Lauren Weisberger and Aline Brosh McKenna’s screenplay: 

“May the bridges I burn light the way.”

Has a character ever been so succinctly limned in just eight words?

Toss into the brew Kenneth Branagh and Lucy Liu and you’ve got a ridiculously attractive murderer’s row.

“Prada 2” isn’t entirely frivolous.  The film strives for relevance by protesting the demise of American journalism and the rise of the misinformed multitudes…well, it’s not so much a protest as a grumpy observation stirred in with the fun and fashion.  

Hey, audiences for this film didn’t come for a civics lesson.

| Robert W. Butler

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Tom Hiddleston

“THE LIFE OF CHUCK” My rating: A-(Various PPV platforms)

111 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Mike Flanagan’s “The Life of Chuck” provides the 10 most joyful minutes of cinema I’ve seen in all of 2025.

Which is not bad for a movie that starts out depicting the end of the world.

“…Chuck” is a departure for writer/director Flanagan, possibly our best dispenser of supernatural horror (“The Haunting of Hill House,” “Midnight Mass,” both Netflix miniseries); but then it is based on what is probably the most atypical story ever penned by Stephen King.

I mean, we’re talking a weirdly-structured but deeply moving meditation on the meaning of life.

You know somebody’s tinkering with the time/space continuum when the opening titles tell us that the yarn begins with Chapter III.

Here we meet Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a middle school teacher struggling (as is everybody else) with the rapid collapse of civilization.  First the Internet went down.  Now cell phones aren’t working.  TV stations are going off the air one by one, but not before announcing that most of Northern California has fallen into the Pacific.

There’s still electricity, but nobody knows how long the juice will keep flowing.

With classes cancelled, Marty wanders the streets of his town, now cluttered with abandoned cars.  He has a conversation with a funeral director (Carl Lumbly) about a blitz of billboards, banners and TV/radio commercials that have appeared overnight.  These declare “Charles Krantz. 39 Great Years! Thanks, Chuck!” and feature a photo of Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), a pleasant-looking guy wearing a business suit and spectacles.  Maybe Chuck is retiring from his job, though he doesn’t look nearly old enough.

And anyway, the world is ending.

A big chunk of Chapter III centers on Marty’s efforts to reconnect with his ex, Felicia (Karen Gillan), a nurse now jobless since all the high-tech medical machines in her hospital stopped working. Reunited, Marty and Felicia sit in her back yard watching the stars blink out one by one.

Next up is Chapter II. We find Chuck (Hiddleston) attending a conference for accountants. On a stroll through the city center he is confronted by a busking street drummer (Taylor Gordon). Listening to the percussive symphony she generates, the buttoned-down Chuck begins swaying tot he music.  

Then he starts doing a few dance steps.  Before long he’s grabbed the hand of a passer-by (Annalise Basso) and together they put on an impromptu display of big band terpsichorean razzamatazz that draws a cheering crowd.

It’s a heart-in-your-throat “Singin’ in the Rain” kind of moment. Pure movie magic. (Much love to Mandy Moore’s spectacular choreography).

Mark Hamill, Benjamin Pajak

Then it’s on to Chapter I, which depicts Chuck’s childhood (as you’ve gathered by now, “The Life of Chuck” unfolds in reverse order). Orphaned by a car accident, young Chuck (he’s depicted as a middle schooler by the excellent Benjamin Pajak) is being raised by his grandparents (Mark Hamill and Mia Sara).

(Uh, wait a minute.  Mia Sara.  Wasn’t she Ferris Bueller’s squeeze only a couple of years back? Surely she can’t be anybody’s grandma.)

Anyway, this segment examines Chuck’s relationship with his loving grandparents, and his discovery of dance in an after-school club.  The kid’s a whiz…before long he’s the talk of the prom for cutting a rug with a girl two years his senior.  

Once again, the dance sequence is magic.  But what kind of career is dance for a red-blooded American boy? No, Chuck will grow up to study something more practical, like accounting.  But he’ll never forget the thrill of his body moving effortlessly to the music.

“…Chuck” bites off a big chew by attempting (in reverse) to depict one man’s life. What we come to realize is that Chapter III is actually unfolding in the head of a dying man.  Chapters I and II tell us how he got there, while introducing figures (Marty, Felicia, the funeral director) who will appear in his end-of-life reverie.

The film has been so deftly directed and acted (even from the unseen Nick Offerman, whose narration provides just the right taste of detached observation) that more than a few veiwers will find themselves in tears.  

| Robert W. Butler

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Tom Hiddleston

“THE LIFE OF CHUCK” My rating: A-(Various PPV platforms)

111 minutes | MPAA rating: R

Mike Flanagan’s “The Life of Chuck” provides the 10 most joyful minutes of cinema I’ve seen in all of 2025.

Which is not bad for a movie that starts out depicting the end of the world.

“…Chuck” is a departure for writer/director Flanagan, possibly our best dispenser of supernatural horror (“The Haunting of Hill House,” “Midnight Mass,” both Netflix miniseries); but then it is based on what is probably the most atypical story ever penned by Stephen King.

I mean, we’re talking a weirdly-structured but deeply moving meditation on the meaning of life.

You know somebody’s tinkering with the time/space continuum when the opening titles tell us that the yarn begins with Chapter III.

Here we meet Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a middle school teacher struggling (as is everybody else) with the rapid collapse of civilization.  First the Internet went down.  Now cell phones aren’t working.  TV stations are going off the air one by one, but not before announcing that most of Northern California has fallen into the Pacific.

There’s still electricity, but nobody knows how long the juice will keep flowing.

With classes cancelled, Marty wanders the streets of his town, now cluttered with abandoned cars.  He has a conversation with a funeral director (Carl Lumbly) about a blitz of billboards, banners and TV/radio commercials that have appeared overnight.  These declare “Charles Krantz. 39 Great Years! Thanks, Chuck!” and feature a photo of Chuck (Tom Hiddleston), a pleasant-looking guy wearing a business suit and spectacles.  Maybe Chuck is retiring from his job, though he doesn’t look nearly old enough.

And anyway, the world is ending.

A big chunk of Chapter III centers on Marty’s efforts to reconnect with his ex, Felicia (Karen Gillan), a nurse now jobless since all the high-tech medical machines in her hospital stopped working. Reunited, Marty and Felicia sit in her back yard watching the stars blink out one by one.

Next up is Chapter II. We find Chuck (Hiddleston) attending a conference for accountants. On a stroll through the city center he is confronted by a busking street drummer (Taylor Gordon). Listening to the percussive symphony she generates, the buttoned-down Chuck begins swaying tot he music.  

Then he starts doing a few dance steps.  Before long he’s grabbed the hand of a passer-by (Annalise Basso) and together they put on an impromptu display of big band terpsichorean razzamatazz that draws a cheering crowd.

It’s a heart-in-your-throat “Singin’ in the Rain” kind of moment. Pure movie magic. (Much love to Mandy Moore’s spectacular choreography).

Mark Hamill, Benjamin Pajak

Then it’s on to Chapter I, which depicts Chuck’s childhood (as you’ve gathered by now, “The Life of Chuck” unfolds in reverse order). Orphaned by a car accident, young Chuck (he’s depicted as a middle schooler by the excellent Benjamin Pajak) is being raised by his grandparents (Mark Hamill and Mia Sara).

(Uh, wait a minute.  Mia Sara.  Wasn’t she Ferris Bueller’s squeeze only a couple of years back? Surely she can’t be anybody’s grandma.)

Anyway, this segment examines Chuck’s relationship with his loving grandparents, and his discovery of dance in an after-school club.  The kid’s a whiz…before long he’s the talk of the prom for cutting a rug with a girl two years his senior.  

Once again, the dance sequence is magic.  But what kind of career is dance for a red-blooded American boy? No, Chuck will grow up to study something more practical, like accounting.  But he’ll never forget the thrill of his body moving effortlessly to the music.

“…Chuck” bites off a big chew by attempting (in reverse) to depict one man’s life. What we come to realize is that Chapter III is actually unfolding in the head of a dying man.  Chapters I and II tell us how he got there, while introducing figures (Marty, Felicia, the funeral director) who will appear in his end-of-life reverie.

The film has been so deftly directed and acted (even from the unseen Nick Offerman, whose narration provides just the right taste of detached observation) that more than a few veiwers will find themselves in tears.  

| Robert W. Butler

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“IT” My rating: B-

135 minutes | MPAA rating: R

First, let’s all take a slow, non-hyperbolic breath.

Rarely has a mere horror movie gotten the advance raves and widespread cultural attention being lavished on “It,” the new film based on Stephen King’s novel (it was filmed once before, for a 1990 TV miniseries).

Well, it’s a good movie. Not great. It’s way overlong and trips over a few narrative dead ends.

It’s not as interesting or satisfying as either “It Follows” or “Get Out,” two recent groundbreaking examples of the horror genre.

But “It” — written by Chase Palmer, Cary Fukunaga and Gary Doberman and directed by Andy Muschietti (“Mama”) — does hit the sweep spot between jump-in-your-seat thrills and the sort of Spielberg-influenced 1980s adolescent adventure most recently championed by Netflix’s hit series “Stranger Things.”

Basically you’ve got a group of pre-pubescents taking on a supernatural evil that resurrects every three decades or so to snatch unwary children. This creature is a sinister circus clown called Pennywise (Bill Skarsgard) who lives in a small town’s sewers and marks his approach with red balloons.

There’s no explanation of Pennywise’s back story; the screenplay presents him as the pure embodiment of every child’s deepest fears (making him a clown was a brilliant stroke on King’s part) and pretty much leaves it at that.

Dramatically, “It” is a deft balancing act between growing creepiness, an often hilarious examination of youthful behavior, and a compassionate (but superficial) look at adolescent angst.

The leader of these young misfits is Bill (Jaden Lieberher, so terrific in “St. Vincent” and “Midnight Special”), whose little brother vanished a year earlier when he ventured too close to a street grating during a rainstorm. Motivated by sibling love, the stuttering Bill is determined to face his own fears to stop Pennywise’s quiet rampage. (more…)

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