Mike Flanagan is one of my favorite horror writer/directors right now, and this movie showcases why. Not because it shows off his unique talents or even because it stays true to his own aesthetic, though to some extent it does both. But in Doctor Sleep, Flanagan succeeds in the nearly inconceivable project of staying true to a book written as a sequel to another book that was disloyally adapted to film, and in so doing, tying all three works together while crafting something new. By definition, then, this film cannot be discussed wholly on its own, but must be considered in tandem with Kubrick's 1980 The Shining and Stephen King's two books of the same names.
Doctor Sleep begins shortly after Danny and his mother escaped the Overlook Hotel. Danny, still haunted by the ghosts, learns from Dick Hallorann (dead in this version, following Kubrick's story) how to lock up ghosts in psychic boxes in his mind. We suddenly jump forward thirty years, when an alcoholic Danny (Ewan McGregor) -- who has tried to suppress his "shine" -- makes a new friend and attempts to clean himself up. He gets sober and works at a hospice, using his abilities to comfort dying patients, earning him his titular nickname. We jump forward again to the present, and if you're wondering why the plot is so strange already, you can blame King.
But this is where things get interesting, because we are introduced to a migrating cult of psychic vampires known as the True Knot, who survive by inhaling "steam" which people with "shine" exude as they die. It's weird and heady and not really the stuff of great horror until we see the vagabonds in full form: Jacob Tremblay's bit part ends when he is tortured and killed by the vampires. Their leader, Rose the Hat (a stunning Rebecca Ferguson), is also their primary hunter, and she grows telepathically aware of the distress of a little girl named Abra. Abra's shine ability (forgive me) outshines everyone's, and she reaches out to Danny for help. Rose begins hunting the girl, hinting that her wellspring of shine will help the vampires continue their semi-immortal lives for a long time indeed.
The film's oddly episodic structure is deftly handled by Flanagan, who never lets the exposition get in the way of his story or aesthetic. Whereas Kubrick's film works best, arguably, as psychological horror -- although we know from the beginning that Jack Nicholson is crazy, and also I dislike his acting in general, but that's just me -- Flanagan's provokes something more like emotional horror. With the help of some handy nostalgia and effective use of McGregor, Flanagan allows us plentiful inlets to care about these characters deeply. Even Rose, the villain, is so memorably played by Ferguson that I found I cared for her, even as she evilly uses her beauty and charm to violent ends. So when Danny returns to the snowbound Overlook Hotel, we know we're in for a seriously fucked-up finale.
Personally, I'm pretty ambivalent about Kubrick's film. It's beautifully shot and designed, of course, but I find it colossally boring. And while Doctor Sleep lurches wildly from episode to episode, trying to balance psychic vampires with alcoholism and ghosts with astral projection, it does so with a keen sense of forward motion. We know this sequel is actually going somewhere, and even though most of the picture does not feel even remotely connected to The Shining, the climax is a thrilling, riveting marriage of the many versions/visions of this story. It seems to attempt a reconciliation between Flanagan's movie, Kubrick's movie, and King's books, and in my mind, it succeeds magnificently. I haven't been so moved and pleased at the end of a horror movie sequel in a long time, and a big part of that is Flanagan's ballsy move to change the ending to suit his needs. Specifically, it's all about empowerment and overcoming trauma and the cost of sacrifice, and with these themes tacked on to a technically brilliant film, it's infinitely more satisfying than Kubrick's.
No comments:
Post a Comment