We’re going to be getting quite a few adaptations from the
written horror legend Stephen King this year. I’m going to cover them as I do
any other film, except I’m doing to do something a little different with these.
Along with going over the individual merits of the films themselves as per
usual, I’m also going to take this time to go over King’s own strengths as a
writer, how they present themselves in his works, and ultimately how well these
films stand up as a continuation of his ethos. And oh boy, do we have a doozy
to start out with.
After being in development hell for many years, only truly
getting off the ground thanks to everyone’s favourite hack Akiva Goldsman, to
say this film hasn’t been well-received would undermine the sheer apathy that
this has generated so far. Anyone who has read through my reviews for
quote-unquote “boring” films in the past should know that failure to engage
often ends up being a bigger sin than just being aggravating or thematic
heinous. But is that truly what we get here? Let’s take our first dip in the
King pool and find out.
The plot: Jake (Tom Taylor) has been having some weird
dreams lately: A Dark Tower standing tall at the centre of the universe, a Man
In Black (Matthew McConaughey) planning to bring it down and doom reality in
the process, and a Gunslinger (Idris Elba) who is determined to stop him.
However, it soon becomes apparent that these are more than just dreams, and as
the two worlds collide, Jake finds himself embroiled in a battle to save the
universe as he knows it.
The acting here takes a bit of time to really get used to,
for varying reasons across the cast, but overall, it’s pretty solid. Taylor as
our focal point character works out nicely, not only managing to stand next to Idris
Elba and not just getting bowled over but also channelling some serious emotion
in a few scenes. Elba’s very stoic delivery is where most of the growing pains
come from, but as his rather depressing backstory and place within the universe
sets in, his finesse as an action lead serves him well and his conversations
with Taylor help the film through its duller moments. McConaughey, by contrast,
takes the least time to start vibing with, his Southern charm giving way to a
very engaging depiction of gleeful malice and just a touch of David Bowie-esque
swagger. The rest of the cast, honestly, doesn’t leave much of an impression;
nuff said.
This film has been in the making for a very long time now,
and that age definitely shows but certainly not in any of the expected ways.
Mainly, it comes through in the fact that this film would have fit in rather
perfectly into the cinematic release schedule of a couple years back, when YA
adaptations were the driving force in Hollywood. Actually, I might not even
going back far enough in that assessment, seeing as this reads like a ‘classic’
first-wave bit of YA adaptation. Tell me if this sounds familiar: A conflict
based in an unknown land spills out into the ‘real world’; with the help of a
supernaturally-gifted child, the good guys have to save both worlds from
destruction. If this doesn’t smell a lot like Harry Potter or the numerous
clones of it that have cropped up since, I don’t know what does.
But, like I
said, that was then; even third-wave YA adaptations have died down of late, in
the wake of The Hunger Games finishing up. And that’s just taking the rather
urban gothic Man In Black side of the story on its own; bring the Western
influences of the Gunslinger into the mix, and the film starts to look more than
a little confused. While there are definite moments where the film feels like
it’s within its own element and telling its own story, the bulk of it feels
like a hodge-podge of ideas likely meant to make the thick mythology of The
Dark Tower books palatable to mainstream audiences.
This isn’t helped by how that same mythology is shown
through this 90-minute film; even ignoring Akiva Goldsman’s involvement in the
production, that running time on its own should be a sign that something is
off. For starters, the Gunslinger’s creed. It is repeated numerous times
throughout the film, connected to most of the film’s bigger thematic moments,
and in all of that time, we never really get an idea of what the creed actually
means, outside of vague spirituality. From there, we get snapshots of a bigger
world under the characters’ feet that is explained enough to set up the main
conflict, but not really enough to make it seem like there’s much to explore
beyond it. Or, at least, that’s how it looks at first. While the story’s own
mythos is rather surface level, there’s another kind of world-building going on
in the background; namely, the world of Stephen King.
Looking at individual
examples of adaptations of his works, from Carpenter’s Christine to Kubrick’s
The Shining, you really wouldn’t get the impression that most if not all of his
stories co-exist alongside each other. This film, more than any other
adaptation we’ve gotten so far, starts to thread things together within the
general King mythos. From certain numbers (1408) and phrases (All hail the
Crimson King) to the ‘Shine’, the term used for Jake’s psychic powers. A
prepubescent boy with psychic powers referred to as ‘shining’; even if you’ve
never heard of Stephen King or The Dark Tower, a good few decades of pop
culture references to the Kubrick film means that that has to sound familiar. At the very least, the phrase “Shush! You
want to get sued?” should be coming to mind.
What I’m getting at with all this
is that, for as scattershot as it looks as an adaptation of The Dark Tower, as
an adaptation of King’s larger mythos, this honestly does more than most.
Building up an entire universe within a single film is one thing; taking a
seemingly-disparate decades-old bit of pop culture and using it to enforce the
idea that said universe has always been there is another.
That under-the-surface connection to King’s stylings also
rings through in the story proper. For as weird and occasionally alienating as
the man’s work can be, his writings have always carried touches of
autobiography. Usually, this comes through in how he thinks the entire universe
revolves around Maine, but it’s also true for events in his own life; look at
how many main characters he’s written that are either alcoholics, writers or
both. Coming to grips with his own fears, his addictions and his grief laid the
groundwork for his most celebrated stories, which in turn have been made into
celebrated films.
Save for the ‘celebrated’ part, this film is no different.
From the Man In Black’s ultimate goal (as shown in the film) to the
Gunslinger’s mentality and the reasons behind it, even Jake’s own family life,
death is a major theme of the film. Man In Black wants to wipe the universe
away and embrace the inevitable, the Gunslinger wants some small satisfaction
before it happens and Jake has been scarred by the death of his father; the
film is no way subtle about any of this, by the by, to the point where Jake’s
psychiatrist ends up doing thematic explanations for me at one point about what
everything in his visions ‘represents’.
Not that lack of subtlety gets in the
way of the feel created by these commonalities, as when that affiliation with
death shows the deeper connections between the characters, it can make for some
damn emotional moments. For all my talk about the adaptation sickness that runs
through a lot of this, it genuinely feels like this film not only has real
respect for the effort of Stephen King, but also gets the personal and rather
confronting core of his works. Death makes the world look darker, and if you
let it in your head, you start to want the darkness. But only if you let it.
Maybe it’s because of my own brushes with death in the past but, even in a film
that’s this arguably flawed, I still take comfort in a message like that.
All in all, if this is the weakest Stephen King film we get
this year, we’re in a far better position as an audience than you’d think. The
main acting is solid, the lean running time doesn’t end up affecting the
overall product as much as I feared it would, and while the writing shows a
certain unsteadiness in adapting this specific story, it also shows an
understanding of the original author’s skill set that very few adaptations of
his work end up granting. When your legacy is made up of films either
critically lauded or mocked to the ends of the earth (fairly or otherwise),
this makes for a nice change of pace. It may be a rather disposable iteration
of a widely-considered-to-be-indisposable book series, but in the grand scheme
of things, it could be worse. Probably helps that this is easily the best thing
Akiva Goldsman has been attached to in years; he may be my favourite target,
but I’m not that heartless.
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