AT&T’s Mr. Mercedes
Episode 2: “On Your Mark”
Directed by Jack Bender
Written by David E. Kelley
* For a recap & review of the Pilot, click here.
* For a recap & review of Episode 3, “Cloudy, With a Chance of Mayhem” – click here
Ole Dt. Bill Hodges (Brendan Gleeson) doesn’t have much else going on other than the occasional puzzle, lots of beer, and feeding his tortoise Fred in the yard. Oh, and the Mr. Mercedes case, which he obsesses over at night. Watching videos of the victims, the woman and her baby which turns to eerie pictures with blood pouring out of the eyes.
The killer, he’s still haunting, still taunting. Now that we know Brady Hartsfield (Harry Treadaway), Mr. Mercedes himself, is also an ice cream man, slipping in and out of the neighbourhood undetected with relative ease, there’s no telling the amount of mind games the detective will find himself up against.
A kid winds up breaking his arm while snooping in Bill’s backyard, so he and Ida Silver (Holland Taylor) call an ambulance. But things don’t look so good, with him stinking “like a saloon.” So the ever crafty Ida brings a whiskey bottle. She comes up with a story, that he was verging on a panic attack. He took a drink to calm his nerves.
Slick mama, that Ida. Always looking out for him, even if he doesn’t want her to do it. Painful to watch. Not because of her, because of how desperately he seems to insist on being alone, isolated, alienated. Once Ida leaves he nearly does have a panic attack, too.
Brady’s co-worker Lou (Breeda Wool) gets in more hot water at work. A guy gives her lip, then calls her out for being a lesbian, even though he’s got nothing to go on other than his stupid conception of who she is after a single conversation. Again, their boss Anthony aka Robi (Robert Stanton) acts like a dick. Apparently customers can “gay bash” as long as they’re paying.
At home, Bill’s got his neighbourhood buddy Jerome (Jharrel Jerome) helping with the latest e-mail from the killer, the disturbing video he’s been sent. He’s got bigger worries, though. Former partner Pete Dixon (Scott Lawrence) calls on behalf of the police, asking him to come down and talk about what happened with the kid in his backyard.
So Bill gets down there, facing question after question from Pete who’s not convinced with his story, wanting his retired friend to find some kind of drive, a purpose, a hobby.
Bill: “What‘s wrong with you, did ya never see an old guy talkin‘ to himself before? You‘re new to the planet, are ya? Fuck off while you‘re at it.”
The Hartsfield house is a weird one, indeed. Downstairs, Brady plays around with his computers, doing… other things, as well. Things his mother Deborah (Kelly Lynch) wants to see, though he’s not inclined to let her. So she presses him, wanting to know what he does down there all the time. He keeps his secrets, and his mother blames him for the pain she says it causes; keep in mind, she does sexually prey on her son, so I don’t think she’s entirely worried properly about his psychological well being.
Over at the electronics store, Robi chats with Brady and Lou about the most recent incident, as well as their “underlying contempt” for customers, or so he says. He calls Brady strange, definitely a step over the line. And more than before I’m starting to wonder how long this guy will live, a psychopath working in their midst, right under his nose.
Ole Bill has already got a purpose. He’s poking around through the still warm bits of the Mercedes Killer case. Yet even the warm bits are cooling fast. Meanwhile, he and Ida are still sniffing around one another, at least she’s been sniffing. He’s interested, he just doesn’t totally understand why she’s into him. She claims he’s “convenient” and also he has some charm left in the tank. More than that she is concerned for him, as a friend.
But, oh, no… another communication, a letter from Mr. Mercedes. He taunts about the cop’s retirement, gloating in his subtle way. Upping poor Bill’s paranoia even further. Now he’s also left a way to communicate online, a digital tin can telephone on a string just for the two of them. All the while Brady’s still driving through the neighbourhood hawking ice cream to kids.
At home, Brady shows his mom a “super remote” he’s been working on, he calls it Thing B. It controls all sorts of stuff, he can program it to activate or deactivate relatively anything. He tells his mom he’ll sell it to the Pentagon someday. Delusions of grandeur? Almost a diabolical speech, convincing his mother he’s headed for big things.
Bill goes to meet, unofficially, with a woman named Janey Patterson (Mary-Louise Parker). She’d like to help catch the Mercedes Killer. They speak of the e-mail he got. Janey’s sister – the one who owned the stolen Mercedes – also got letters. The killer encouraged her to commit suicide. Until she did.
After Lou closes up shop and heads out for the night, Robi’s left by himself. To work, he claims. He’s actually getting ready for a jerk off session, has the towel ready and everything. Only when he starts a video, it shuts down. Then his laptop all but explodes in a burst of flame.
Bill goes home and logs on to the site where Mr. Mercedes has their little two-way conversation setup. He sends a message: I’M HERE FUCKHEAD. LET’S PLAY. And this is the ignition Brady needs to really start his games. I’m worried about what that means.
Christ, an awesome follow-up to the Pilot! Great, great stuff. I’m excited now. The first episode was truly creepy, unnerving. This one started to get into true thriller territory. Gleeson is fascinating, hilarious, perfect. Treadaway terrifies me, particularly that final look he gives, looking at the glow of his computer screen.
“Cloudy, With a Chance of Mayhem” is next week. Stay tuned.
We start in 2009, in Ohio. Extremely early in the morning at a City Jobs Fair. People are lined up outside through a roped walkway. Everyone waits patiently, some introducing themselves to one another. Others aren’t entirely happy to be there, not into the socialising. Regardless, everyone there’s starved for work, from the older folk to a young mother with her baby and every sort in between.
We jump ahead, two years later. Looks as if Dt. Hodges is a bit rough around the edges, lying in his own wreckage now. Mostly consisting of beer cans, cigarettes, and peanuts. Bit of a mess, in more ways than one. He’s got a lot of time to himself these days. Him and his friend Fred, the tortoise in the backyard. Seems they’re sort of at the same pace. He still has dinner with Pete, keeping in touch after his retirement.
Well, there’s still a purpose. Deep down there somewhere.
The fun will-they won’t-they between Ida and Bill continues. She’s not happy she showed him a nude on her phone and he wouldn’t look at it. She insists he looks. He does, if not a bit reluctantly. I hope they continue this relationship, on any level, because Gleeson and Taylor together’s like some kind of sweet magic.
At home he gets the camera installed with help from a neighbour kid who does stuff around the house for him regularly, including with the latest e-mail business. And who else is rolling around the neighbourhood? It’s Brady. One of his other jobs is as a Mr. Friendly’s ice cream truck driver, serving up scoops for the kids, and fucking with Hodges, tossing a tennis ball with a smiley face into the yard for him to find.
Man, oh, man! I did not expect the first episode to be so damn good. Much as I love King, I’m always sceptical going into a film or television adaptation of his work. Which is a bonus when it’s actually fucking great. So much to love here, and not least is the use of punk rock in the soundtrack. Love it!
Mia (Danica Curcic), Kevin (Morgan Spector), Bryan (Okezie Morro), Adrian ( Russell Posner) and Tyler (Christopher Gray) get through the mist to another one of the wards: the psychiatric wing. An orderly named Nash knew Mia’s mom, saying there was “nothing bad in her” and assuring she wasn’t like the other patients. Meanwhile, there’s plenty else to worry about than the mist, with Kevin still drugged up and having been exposed to it by the doctor, as well as Bryan and Mia’s now tenuous relationship.
Bryan Hunt isn’t Bryan Hunt, he’s Jonah Dixon. He beat up the real Bryan, a soldier at Arrowhead military base. So she’s worried he could be “psycho” or it could be amnesia. The two talk about things, he tells her about meeting the real Bryan, that he was attacked. She then tells him about what happened at her mother’s house, the apparition of dear ole mom, the thought of fading into death. What brought her back was Jonah. In order to feel worthy of it, of anything, she’s doing a rapid detox. Harsh, brutal.
When Adrian’s nowhere to be found, Tyler panics. He goes to Kevin, then the orderly tells them not to bother. That the kid’s a bad person, he can “see people” and who they are underneath. Turns out the orderly is not an orderly, he was a patient. An especially violent one. He runs off before the two can get to Adrian, who’s bound, gagged in a room. Not far from where the guy’s got a bunch of dead bodies stashed in a closet, piled atop one another like sides of beef.
Jonah remembers being experimented on, zapped, a woman speaking random words to him through all the pain. He sees all sorts of things coming back to him. He tells Mia about it, how he survived, and coaches her through the pain she’s feeling.
Wow, this episode was one of my favourites! If not the best of The Mist‘s Season 1. Such good stuff, on all ends. Interested to see what happens in many areas, like the gay relationship which is awesome – and so needed in this day and age for representation, very well written, at that – and also the budding trouble at the mall. Many things to come!
Bryan (Okezie Morro) is figuring out he forgot so much since being at the military base. He may not even be himself. The man in the hospital, the one Mia (Danica Curcic) talked to before taking off, he lunges at Bryan, and the two men fight brutally in the hospital room. Bryan keeps pleading, violently: “Tell me who I am!” All before he has to choke the man out.
At the mall, Eve (Alyssa Sutherland) and Alex (Gus Birney) are surviving. As are the folks at the church, from Father Romanov (Dan Butler) and his staunch faith, to local cop Connor (Darren Pettie) who’s having a crisis of faith and of duty and of manhood. The man of faith and the man of the law, they chat a bit. The priest talks of being “loyal to God” and it’s less like an assurance, more like trying to gain favour against Nathalie Raven (Frances Conroy), her unholy worship. The woman’s still speaking of “the Black Spring,” she’s trying to bring others into her fold. Romanov combats this with a hymn on the organ. Drown it out. Not so easy, though.
While Nathalie’s new faith in nature is a bit disturbing, on the opposite side is the church. And while Romanov isn’t entirely full steam ahead, one of his followers is determined to stop the blaspheming, no matter what it takes. This is where things get scary. All forms of faith can turn mad, from the organised religions to the more pagan-like worship. It’s all corruptible.
I worry most about Kevin. He’s had it rough. He’s being tortured via experiment by Dr. Bailey, wanting to see more of how the mist reacts with people. So he drugs the poor dude up, sealing him in a room and letting the mist in to do its work. Kevin experiences a hallucination of various things: a bending gurney, a white owl, a version of himself. All before Bryan and the kid come to get him out.
Great, tense episode. Really didn’t know what was about to happen with Kevin. Now I wonder, will this affect him? Will he have a neutrality in his blood in some way that’ll protect him from the mist? Could get interesting. It will, I’m sure. Also, the crowd at the hospital are being forced into a smaller space, which is always good for claustrophobic tension and suspense. Maybe some outright madness.
With Bryan (Okezi Morro) wounded from the gunshot, Kevin (Morgan Spector), Adrian (Russell Posner), and Mia (Danica Curcic) rush trying to get him to a hospital, driving through the mist. They get him there, but like everywhere else people are stuck together, stuck inside, there’s no telling what the situation is like amongst the staff, patients, and anyone who’s ended up in that building as a result of the encroaching mist. As well as the fact Mia blames Kevin for Bryan getting shot, treating it the same as if he shot the bullet himself.
Kevin doesn’t stop looking for his family, though nobody’s seen them anywhere around the hospital. One of the worst places to be trapped is the hospital. There’s death around almost every corner. Moreover, Kevin finds his brother Mike (Peter Murnik) in a bed, a brutal wound in his gut. His brother said “they knew me” – whatever’s in the mist – that they knew things about his past. “I don‘t even know what‘s real anymore,” Mike says. The two brothers clearly have NEVER seen eye to eye, yet there’s a comfort in the older of the two with his younger brother there. Perhaps that’s because he’s on the edge of death. Or maybe he just hides his affections.
Another flashback shows a brief moment with Mike and Eve, as they’re all together in the new house. The older brother’s comment puts a momentarily sour look on her face. Afterwards, she and Mike have sex, she asks him for it harder. I worry there are dark secrets, darker things about the town, what happened to Eve all those years that we don’t yet know. I’m not sure exactly if I have any theories yet, I do know there’s something else there yet to be revealed.
Lost souls Adrian and Mia bond over being single children in their respective families, over trouble with her mother, his father. The junkie, and more experienced sleazeball, snags the keys from the kid without his knowing. After that she makes a swift exit, driving away from the hospital in a hurry. And this not long after her discover of a Bryan Hunt in another hospital bed, who says he was attacked by a man at the military base. Ohhhhh, shit.
What a fucking episode! I’ve seen people rating this low, and I have no idea why. Crazy. Such history, character development, as we figure out more of the Copelands’ inner lives, what drives them, what’s brought them to here. There’s so much to unpack. The writers are doing a great jog so far. “The Devil You Know” is next week.
Kevin (Morgan Spector), Mia (Danica Curcic), Bryan (Okezie Morro), and Adrian (Russell Posner) make it to the vehicle outside the church. But when Mia tries hotwiring it, nothing happens. The engine won’t even turn over, whatsoever. At the same time, Adrian’s the only one who witnessed the terrifying butterfly death of the other man recently.
At a gas station, Kevin and the others run into a man with a gas mask and a gun. He knows that Kevin is Eve’s (Alyssa Sutherland) husband. His name is Clay, he has a boy in her class. He’s lost now, somewhere else. But the group knows more than they tell him. Probably best, in case it drives him mad. He’s the one with a gun.
The games store boys have a harpoon, they’re latching onto the soldiers corpses in the shopping carts outside. Trying to reel them back inside. When one gets stuck Ted (Jonathan Malen) goes out using it as a lifeline. He doesn’t come back and Vic (Erik Knudsen) gets a shock as the glass breaks, the mist beginning to seep in through the book store. Where Alex and a little girl are reading together. A black mist creature appears, Alex and the girl trapped with it next to them. The thing grabs the girl by the face, sucking the life out of her. It stands in front of Alex, ready to do the same. Only it doesn’t. She walks free, seemingly unharmed. Although I’m curious to know if the mist has possessed her in some form.
Best of all is the religious war brewing, in the church no less. Natalie has called the spider in the jar “God” and she worships it; a false idol. This worries Father Romanov, some of the others. Especially considering they believe it’s Judgement Day. So the priest forcibly takes the spider, crushing it on the carpet. Horrifying Natalie. It’s a double-edged sword for the man of faith – on one hand, it illustrates how deep his faith is that he does feel they must adhere to the word of God or else perish; on the other, shows the weakness of his belief, that he’s threatened by an old lady and a spider in a jar.
Great episode! This series is getting stronger with every chapter, honestly. Started out just decent, now I’m gunning for this one. The Mist continues with “The Waiting Room” next. Surely there’ll be more tension and creeps in the episode to come.
Everyone at the church wakes up, the first morning after the mist came over their town. Adrian (Russell Posner) worries the others are “all dead” but Kevin (Morgan Spector) assures him they’re okay, that they’ve survived just like them. Upstairs, they look through a stained glass window’s scratch to spy a vehicle worth taking. They’ll need Mia (Danica Curcic), though the kid doesn’t trust her. And there’s the fact Connor (Darren Pettie) has her handcuffed. Those two dads are going to have a difficult moment, at some point.
Natalie (Frances Conroy) talks about finding something 1860 in the newspapers. She’s told it’s supposedly a local legend concerning “the Black Spring” – a curse, after the murder of a young woman. Even creepier is they can see her husband Benedict lurking out there in the mist.
Later when Kevin tries helping to free Mia and Bryan, he winds up down there with them after Connor the pig – in two senses of the word at this point – says some heinous shit about his wife and daughter.
The priest believes God’s testing their faith. Of course, what else would be think? He reels off the story of Job to Adrian, telling about the challenge of Satan to God. Et cetera, et cetera. Job prospered in patience, ever faithful. The kid’s reaching out for any kind of love, even if it’s the love of God. So long as it’s genuine. An interesting gay character I want to see more of throughout this season.
I’ve got to say, The Mist is defying my personal expectations. I didn’t think it’d thrill me in the way it is already. First three episodes are fantastic, I look forward to the rest. These characters have drawn me in, their predicaments are compelling. Effects aren’t always perfect but they’re intense and imaginative at times so far, so that’s enough for me.
SO MUCH TENSION in the pilot episode! Now, we’ve got people stuck in tight little places together, all their various beefs and tensions locked in there with them. Juicy, and scary.
We see that habit of Mia kicking up. She’s obviously got dependency issues, looking for a few pills in the evidence locker. Wonder if she’ll cause a problem on the way to the mall, once they’re at the mall. Either way, Bryan finds her out, and he’s willing to help her. If she goes into withdrawals then it’s going to get ugly.
When they get inside Kevin confronts Connor, who ends up putting the cuffs on Mia. This guy’s a real piece of work. The cop blames them for taking too long, for Kevin staging a “prison break.” Truly he’s just a coward, doesn’t want to admit that. He’s meant to serve and protect. I guess that means only if he feels brave enough. We also see how lost Natalie is without her husband, lost in such a brutal, random killing.
Man, I’m impressed. Not everything’s perfect, but it’s a great show so far! I’m eager for more. These first two episodes flow really well and the excitement’s growing. Bits and pieces of horror along the way. Like any good slice of Stephen King, what’s best are the characters, their lives, their stories, and how they react in these mortifying moments.
Bryan Hunt (Okezie Morro) wakes in the woods with a dog named Rufus. It’s almost as if he isn’t sure he’s himself: “I am Bryan and you are Rufus,” he says assuring himself. All around him a fog, a thick mist wafts over the forest, over everything. The dog runs in and Bryan chases him. But inside the mist is something terrible, it guts the poor animal to nearly nothing, a pelt left and innards, blood splattered all over the ground.
Kevin and his family are interesting, he loves his wife and at the same time recognises she can be cold, particularly with their daughter Alex (Gus Birney). Later at a party when her father lets her go out, Alex and Adrian (Russell Posner) run into a bit of trouble. Until football nice guy Jay Heisel (Luke Cosgrove) jumps in to help Alex after another player calls him a “faggot” in front of everybody.
Tests at the hospital are tricky, confirming a drug in her system, meaning she was passed out. Although there’s no trauma, which of course in a fucking court would cast all kinds of doubt because humans are idiots. Meanwhile, Alex finds only slight comfort in Adrian at home. They know how the town will act in the face of football star Jay being accused, refusing to believe he could be anything but wonderful. A few jocks already vandalise the street outside with the word WHORE. Simultaneously, Connor coaches his son along. Sort of assuming he’s guilty, only telling him he won’t go to jail. Yikes. What a mess they’re into, all of them.
Outside the police station are noises, car horns and a crash. The mist is swallowing the town, opening wide above it and covering everything. Alex drops hints about her mother’s past, saying that the town knows she was a slut; prompts a strong reaction from Eve. Did something bad happen to her? With that mist growing, Kevin, Connor, the other officers, they’re clouded in it. Cell reception drops out. And one cop taking selfies in the foggy air meets a pack of bugs swarming him, devouring him.
One perk? A woman who says Alex “lied about getting raped” walks directly into the mist, like a dummy, and the people inside the shopping centre watch as she has half her face torn off, then gets sucked back into the mist by something unseen. SCARY, and holds a bit of retribution for that woman’s awfulness. Nothing any better at the station, as the officer covered in bugs barely has a face left, either. Mia has to put a bullet in his head, saving Kevin when the cop nearly thrashes him.
Great first episode! Was quite wary when I heard about it, but I love Stephen King. Huge fan. This story was always a good one, very chilling and spooky. The film was great, so I’m now looking forward to what they’ll do with this season.
No secret, Stephen King is one of my very favourite authors. Of all time. He is fantastic and tells a story like no other. His decidedly creepy aura is present in all his stories, no matter if it’s a straight up horror, or whether an intense personal drama. He always brings something with him that keeps things real, no matter how far out they get, and because of that his stories wind up all the more horrific.
We all know that The Shawshank Redemption is pretty much the most well regarded adaptation of Stephen King’s writing. There are some other great ones. As a horror fanatic, I do love Pet Sematary and The Mist, Carrie, among many more. But the greatness of King’s writing doesn’t always come through, even in some of the decently made films. Certainly not in the real abortions that have crawled onscreen like The Mangler (botched an awesome story of modern witchcraft for cheap and flashy horror) or the middle of the road adaptations such as 
Part of why I’ve always so hugely admired Darabont’s work on this picture is that he took an excellent novella and adapted it brilliantly. The storytelling in the Different Seasons section labelled Hope Springs Eternal – “Rita Hayworth and Shawshank Redemption” – is expert stuff from King. He’s one of my favourite writers because of his ability to really get us into the rhythm of his characters. The novella starts us right out in the perspective of Red (played in the film by Mr. Morgan Freeman a.k.a The God Damn Man). Instead of doing that immediately in the screenplay Darabont opts to give us a little preview of Andy Dufresne (the equally amazing Tim Robbins), as we see him the night of the crime he says he didn’t commit, a brief scene in court. Then we start into Red’s point of view. What I like about that is we’re given Andy’s perspective outside the walls before encroaching on prison territory, where Red is the man to follow. This opening sort of mirrors the entrance into jail that we experience alongside Andy, taking us from one side of the gate to the other. Almost chilling, in a way.
Like a lot of other cinephiles, I’ve watched The Shawshank Redemption many, many times. Literally, it’s probably been close to 200 times since first seeing it a little over two decades ago. It was one of those VHS tapes I threw on when coming home from school, eating lunch and watching 20 minutes before heading back to class. I’d view it in bits and pieces, sometimes as a whole. There are scenes I could just turn on to watch then put it away again. Yes, I’m a die hard Stephen King fan. I have a ton of his books on my shelf, I’ve read most of what he’s published, including his short stories and non-fiction writing texts. So there’s that bias, I guess. But this is just a damn good slice of cinema. Everything from the acting to the production, the period look of the prison and other locations, it’s all done to perfection. Roger Deakins as director of photography, giving us that signature look of his filled with extraordinary techniques which help this prison film look better than most. Sometimes movies with voice-overs, particularly those with lots, can get boring. Like Scorsese, Darabont is able to keep us enthralled, and his adaptation of King’s work allows us to indulge in a ton of story without every feeling bogged down.
Admittedly, I’m not a huge fan of Bryan Singer’s directing. Not that he’s bad. There’s something about his style that doesn’t always attract me. I’ve not seen his feature debut, though The Usual Suspects is a great film; slightly overrated, but great nonetheless. Sometimes I feel like Singer is a bit too focused on the look of things and forgets there needs to be proper substance.
Something I love about both the writing of Mort’s character and the performance by Depp is that the feeling of being a writer comes across effortlessly. As someone whose days have been filled before by naps, the lure of that comfy couch, food, cigarettes (and before I went sober, booze and so on), Mort feels impossibly real. Of course that comes from King as an author himself, putting what he knows into the character. He knows exactly what it’s like. More than that, Depp ingrains a sense of that writer’s life in the performance. This could actually come off easily as a standard character, and in a way he is, but Depp allows for more than that and brings his talent to the table in spades. Just how he sulks, heading back to the couch for comfort, picking away at his food, and even laying on the floor with his dog, all in lieu of actually being productive and doing some writing.
As an avid reader of Stephen King I’m always happy when I can tout one of the film adaptations as worthy of his writing. With any book the movie never seems to match up in quality, though on rare occasions this happens. What an adaptation for the screen can hope for is that it preserves the spirit of the source material. Not all adaptations of King novels work out appropriately, as I’ve mentioned in my other reviews recently. At least with a good couple hours directors and writers are capable of turning a large-sized novel into something worthwhile of the author’s efforts.
I’ve long said that George A. Romero and Stephen King go together like coffee and pie. Is that a thing, is that what people say? Well, I like coffee and pie. A nice treat. Just like I dig some Romero and King. They’re sweet together, as sweet as horror can get. You fans know what I’m talking about. Usually people associate Romero with the zombie sub-genre, and rightfully so: he single-handedly reimagined the zombie in modern terms giving birth to a trend that’s still going on today, which will undoubtedly continue until the end of time. Yet Romero made some really good work outside of the zombie structure. Long before 1993, too. But The Dark Half is one of those King-Romero collaborations that isn’t only interesting on paper. The whole film is a dark, gorgeous joy. Previously the two powerhouses of scary shit did well working on 1982’s Creepshow. Most will say that’s their best work together. I love that one, have it on the shelf alongside this and other Romero, as well as other King. I have to say, this one is my personal favourite of the two movies. Most of all because the book is so good, and for better or worse this adaptation nails most of the important aspects right on the head. The visual style is quite what we come to expect from the master of horror in Romero. King’s story matches the darkness of the director in his story examining duality, the lure of addiction in the sense of it creating an entirely other identity in one person, a quasi-monster movie about a man’s evil side literally appearing out of thin air. This is on the top of my lists for favourite King adaptations. There’s a lot to enjoy, even if it isn’t perfect. In the second half of the film things get riveting. Romero always goes for the jugular, this is no different.
Director Mikael Håfström is a capable hand. His films Evil and Derailed are both decent, particularly the former. Putting him in charge of a Stephen King adaptation is a good choice, one which he proves is worthwhile decision. The screenplay for the film went through a couple stages, though it seems this was a benefit – first, Matt Greenberg (
There’s a difference between what I consider a proper jump scare and one that’s used to cheap effect. If there’s absolutely no reason for one, then I don’t understand the reason for a director to go for that type of gag. In turn, if they do that for a cheap scare it’s usually in place of their ability to cultivate actual suspense and tension. Many of those moments here will make you jump, though they serve as a perfect way to build up all the tense action. And honestly, in a hotel room haunted house-type film, what do you expect? There’s also an unsettling atmosphere throughout, so it isn’t built even 50% on jump scaring you to death. Much of what I find creepy is the gradual way Enslin comes around to believing there’s something supernatural actually happening. Because we start out with him totally sceptical. He doesn’t believe in any kind of ghosts. Once his night in the room progresses, things quickly change. Yet he first tries to explain away each event, rationalising, coming up with a legitimate reason these things could be happening. With each subsequent event, that scepticism slips, and soon enough the voice of his daughter comes to him. Even right before that he’s started slipping, but the voice is one of those final tipping points. His paranoia sets in and he tries to keep himself steady. The jump scares don’t just serve to unsettle the audience: they’re working to de-root Mike as the main character. For a time, he starts thinking more and more there’s someone entering the room, that Olin is orchestrating the whole thing, that he’s been drugged by the gifted liquor bottle, the candy in the room, so forth. All the elements come together in a hurricane of paranoid thought that drives him crazy. As opposed to say a low budget slasher that builds its entire fright factor on scaring you by heart attack jump moments, Håfström’s movie is a scary story that keeps your heart racing while also diving into the character study of its lead.
I just recently watched Cell, the latest King adaptation on VOD, and Cusack almost bored me to death with his similar portrayal of a father missing his child, albeit under differetn circumstances. Here, he is beyond fascinating. Mike Enslin is a solidly written character from King, then the screenplay gives him more time to play on our feelings. Best of all, Cusack does good work. In his other aforementioned role he couldn’t bring anything new, nor did he get too many scenes where the emotionality of his performance was required to break out in a big way. 1408 allows him the space to open up Enslin and explore what makes him who he is. For instance, part of the fact he’s sceptical has to do with his personal situation, the loss of a child, the fact that if he did believe in God and the afterlife that it might be beneficial for him, he could see his daughter again and things might feel better somehow. Once his scepticism is whittled away, this leaves him open, raw to the influence of ghosts, one of whom happens to be the spirit of his daughter lurking in the abyssal depths of that hotel’s black hole. Cusack displays the range necessary to make Enslin an empathetic character, he calls for us to understand his situation, as Håfström makes great directorial choices taking us between what’s really happening and what Mike sees happening inside the room right in front of his eyes. A single location in a movie can become boring. Not with Cusack in charge of acting duties. He pulls his weight to the fullest and sells every last inch of Enslin, the story, and the film together. While Jackson adds his flavour to the pot, and is enjoyable in a role that could come off as typical but works so perfectly, Cusack will always be the star of this show, obviously.
1408 has a couple missteps. Overall it’s 4-star horror. Cinematographer Benoît Delhomme (
Cell is one of the few Stephen King novels I’ve not yet read at this stage. He’s one of my favourite writers, as well as a huge influence on me as an author myself. His influence is large and encompasses generations of weird kids who read his work growing up, whose touch made us more confident in mining the darker regions of our minds. Not only does he inspire readers, writers, he further has left a mark on horror directors, many of whom cut their teeth in the genre first by reading his books. Regardless of who you are or what you do, King is able to get to you. My mother was an avid reader. Then she passed his books on down to me, as they always interested me on the shelf and she’d say “Not until you’re a little older” and so eventually I read them all, devouring each page until there was nothing left. Now, 31 at the time of this writing, my bookshelves at the home which I share with my girlfriend are filled with a small library of solely Stephen King books. His writing is almost like a family tradition between myself and my mother. His work transcends genre, which is funny because those only familiar with a few of his stories always peg him as a horror writer, or that guy who writers creepy stories, and other descriptions. But he is capable of crossing genres and while captivating you with scary moments King always has something bigger happening underneath.
I’m a huge Stephen King fan. I’ve read almost everything he’s written, still working on that. His short stories are some of the best short stories out there, as far as I’m concerned; up with greats of similarly fashioned literature such as H.P. Lovecraft and Robert W. Chambers and others. He’s not simply a horror writer like so many pigeonhole him. Everything he does certainly has a dark, macabre and morbid, eerie tone. Rarely does he write anything without his brand of strange. But his stories and the plots within them are all so fascinatingly dark and equally as human. Part of why King is able to touch so many readers is because within all the macabre madness of his horrific tales, those human elements are what hooks people. The characters, their situations, their hopes and dreams and the all too often dashing of those desires are how King gets into the head of his readers, then allowing him the chance to creep us out.
Caan is a solid Paul Sheldon. He has this sort of old school tough guy feel about him, so that when he’s got his legs beat to pieces, laying in bed and stuck to that wheelchair, he has this air of wounded masculinity. Not in an obnoxious sense. In the way you feel bad for him. Furthermore, you know even if it was just one banged up leg, he might manage to get out of the situation. But he’s helpless in this situation and it renders Sheldon someone we empathize with, which Caan plays up so well. Better still is how he gets crafty after so long, and that’s something Caan uses to great effect. There’s always this awesome fine line with Caan where he’s serious as hell, and simultaneously funny, on the verge of always being able to make you laugh or smile. One of the best casting choices in any King film.
Best of all, the character of Annie Wilkes (Bates) feels far ahead of her time. Originally written in 1987, she’s decades before the unbelievable mania that is fandom. You can look back at Misery and see it as a metaphor. About how fans demand what they want from the creators of the material they so dearly love. They demand so much, in fact, that it pains the creator, as they can’t always please their audience and also please themselves as an artist. Ultimately, Annie is the fandom that will not let artists (directors, writers, et cetera) grow organically, but rather impede development by wanting a show to be THEIRS. While a certain amount of what an artist does is out of their hands after they’ve finished creating it, there’s still a line that fans can cross. By stepping over that line you make clear it isn’t the artist’s talent which you’re in it for; you want a story that you dictate. Then it becomes something not of the creator, or in this case the author. Annie isn’t just some psychopath, though this works incredibly well on a surface level. She is further a representation of how fans can pin down the artists they admire with expectations, ones they wish to force.
There are some truly horrific moments in this movie. This has psychological horror, as well as real, physical stuff to tickle the visceral nerves. Even just Paul and his broken legs is a bit of body horror. Although, once Annie decides to toss out her story of the early days in diamond mines when they hobbled workers for stealing, things get gruesome. For all the horror movies I’ve seen over the years, this scene kills me. Every time. Funny enough, there’s nothing explicit or graphic. You actually barely see what happens.
Let’s get one thing straight: I love this movie. Fanatically.
