By Todd Garbarini
As
a huge fan of Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 film version of Stephen King’s 1977 novel The
Shining, which I saw at the age of fifteen and was completely terrified by,
it is a daunting task indeed to watch any other (excuse the pun) incarnation of
this fantastic story as seen through the eyes of another filmmaker without
being drawn back to Mr. Kubrick’s much-maligned interpretation that was
initially criticized but subsequently revered by some as the greatest horror
film ever made. The Shining is a film that has affected me profoundly in
ways that only a handful of other films ever have. I felt a compelling
obsession with it that was nearly impossible to verbalize. It was my second
Jack Nicholson film, and it made me a lifelong fan of his; it introduced me to
pre-existing music and its use in a contemporary film; and perhaps, most
significantly, it was my introduction into the world of Mr. King’s writings.
Having read the novel a mere two months after seeing the film for the first
time, I was completely surprised to see how much Mr. Kubrick altered the source
material. Much has been written about his decision to jettison nearly all but
the bare bones plot of a former alcoholic schoolteacher-turned-writer taking on
the position of the caretaker of a Colorado hotel during the winter months with
his wife and young son. The film’s most vocal critic is perhaps the author
himself who, while acknowledging Mr. Kubrick’s genius as a film director, has
never held back his disdain for The Shining for which he wrote a
screenplay that was subsequently rejected by the director in favor of his own
collaboration with novelist Diane Johnson. Mr. King’s disappointment in the
film made him vow to make his own version one day, and The Shining, as
presented in a three-part mini-series on ABC in April and May of 1997 and
directed by Mick Garris, is the result.
Jack
Torrance (Stephen Webber) is a recovering alcoholic who has been fired for beating
up a student following the latter cutting the former’s car tire after an
argument. To say that Jack is skating on thin ice would be an understatement,
even after many AA meetings. His marriage is on the rocks with his wife Wendy
(Rebecca De Mornay) following him breaking their son Danny’s (Courtland Mead)
arm after a drinking bout. All he really wants is quiet time to write his play.
Taking care of the remotely located Overlook Hotel during the brutal winter
months is his opportunity to do just that. Stuart Ullman (Elliott Gould), the stern
and surly hotel manager, has been apprised of Jack’s past and is not too
pleased to have to offer him the job as a favor. Dick Halloran (Melvin Van
Peebles), the Overlook’s head chef, gives Wendy and Danny a tour of the
kitchen, and discovers that he shares
the gift of the Shining with Danny, a force described as a “psychic ability to
see visions of the past, present, and future, as well as communicate
telepathically with others who possess similar abilities.”
Once
on their own following the hotel’s seasonal shutdown, the Torrances spend time
acclimating themselves to the quiet solitude of the hotel and their quarters. It
does not take long for them, however, to realize that strange things are going
on in their midst. Unfortunately for Jack, there are evil forces at work that
threaten to unravel the very fabric of his family unit as well as his sanity. Evidence
of past horrors that occurred within the hotel begin to emerge in the form of an
undead and decaying woman in room 217, an anthropomorphized topiary, a hornet’s
nest of not-quite-dead wasps, and a scrapbook of news articles providing
evidence of the hotel’s sordid history. Wendy’s attempts to seduce her husband
into a night of lovemaking while dressed seductively are spurned multiple times
by a distracted Jack who is thinking of incorporating elements of the Overlook
into his play while also dealing with the demons of his alcoholism. In the
midst of this is their seven-year-old son Danny who plays referee between them while
trying to make sense of all that conspires to destroy his family. It isn’t long
before the ghosts of the Overlook’s past begin to show up in their evening
gowns and Jack loses his grip on reality, attempting to destroy his family
while Danny telepathically summons Mr. Halloran who comes to their rescue.
At
four-and-a-half hours, this version of The Shining is highly faithful to
Mr. King’s story and, except for the genuinely frightening woman in Room 217,
there is little in the way of tension and scares. Steven Webber does an
admirable job of portraying a man modeled after Mr. King himself who is trying
to go sober and keep his temper in check. Rebecca De Mornay, who was just
twenty years-old when she was cast in late 1980 as an understudy in Francis
Ford Coppola’s extravagant One from the Heart (1982) and found overnight
fame as Lana in Paul Brickman’s highly successful Risky Business (1983)
opposite Tom Cruise, plays Wendy much closer to Mr. King’s original vision in
his novel. She is a strong-willed mother fiercely protective of her young
charge against the adversity unfurling within the family unit. The film is
ultimately undone by the not-ready-for-prime-time computer-generated imagery
effects (CGI) that come off as silly and unfinished.
It
is impossible to avoid comparisons between this and Mr. Kubrick’s film, the
scariest film I have ever seen and which has only become more revered,
iconoclastic, studied and analyzed in the years since its original release, so
I will tread lightly. There are many areas that make Mr. Kubrick’s version,
which was faked on backlots and massive sets at Elstree Studios in England, a
standout. In his film, the Overlook, as represented by Oregon’s Timberline
Lodge, became a character of its own. The Torrance’s, as played by Jack
Nicholson, Shelly Duvall, and Danny Lloyd, felt as though they were really and
truly snowbound and had absolutely no recourse from the outside world. The same
cannot be said for the hotel in this version which, ironically, is the very
hotel that inspired the story: the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado.
The
one area that neither film version touches upon that is a big fear of Danny’s
in the novel of the notion his parents will divorce, which is further
italicized to emphasize innate fear. The other words that do make their
way into both films are, of course, REDRUM and MURDER.
The
miniseries is now available on a double disc Blu-ray from Scream! Factory. Blu-ray
Disc One contains Parts One and Two, and Blu-ray Disc Two contains Part Three
and additional scenes that were cut from the film. The film begins with a
disclaimer: “To provide the most complete version of the film, a few scenes
have been upgraded from the best available, non-Interpositive source.” This
verbiage will go over the heads of the uninitiated, and as such it merely
states that the folks at Scream! Factory did their best to locate the best
available film elements for this high-resolution transfer. I must admit that
even to my trained eyes, I had difficulty differentiating between the best film
elements and whatever less-than-stellar footage was used in the transfer, which
is excellent. There is a highly enjoyable audio commentary by author Stephen
King, director Mick Garris, actor Steven Weber, actress Cynthia Garris, visual effects
supervisor Boyd Shermis, makeup supervisor Bill Curso, and cinematographer
Shelly Johnson that is worth the price of the movie alone. They give great
insight into how the film came to be, especially author King who discusses
staying at the Stanley Hotel in October 1974 with his wife. He explains that,
had the concierge not asked the Kings if they could pay cash to stay overnight,
the book would never have come to be. Talk about a fortuitous exchange. He also
talks about his own experiences and struggles with alcoholism and his relation
to Jack Torrance.
Director
Garris discusses how his version is not intended as a remake of Stanley
Kubrick’s film (which would have been a fool’s errand) but instead a filmed
representation of author Mr. King’s novel, and discusses the challenges of
making a film of a beloved book and working with a child actor, made easier
thanks to Dawn Jeffory-Nelson, an acting teacher. She appears as an unwitting
victim in David Schmoeller’s ultra-creepy Tourist Trap (1979), and worked
extensively with young actor Mead. Steven Weber provides his insights into
working with Ms. De Mornay and how the most difficult scene they did consisted
of nine pages of dialog and had to be in the can in one day.
The
film was originally released on DVD in 2003 and the commentary and additional
eleven scenes that run a total of sixteen-minutes appear to have been ported
over from that release. The image quality of this new double-disc Blu-ray,
however, easily bests that DVD so if you are a fan of this film this is a
worthy upgrade.
Click here to order from Amazon