Chainsaw Day: Chain Reactions

Roger Ebert famously gave The Texas Chainsaw Massacre only two out of four stars. Yet, he conceded the quality of the performances and productions values might surprise viewers, “not, however, that you’d necessarily enjoy seeing it.” Ebert was hardly alone. At the time, Tobe Hooper’s career-making film was decidedly divisive amongst critics. Unfortunately, viewers really do not get a sense of that diversity of opinion in Alexandre O. Philippe’s Chainsaw Reactions, which has a special nationwide “Texas Chainsaw Day” screening this Monday, along with the 1974 film it documents.

Fifty years and change later, everyone involved with Philippe’s doc takes it as a given that Hooper’s film is a classic. Again, he uses an approach like that of Lynch/Oz, essentially presenting extended critical analysis from five experts/critics/fans, while showing evocative clips from the film. Fortunately, these five waxers-poetic repeat themselves far less than the cast of Lynch/Oz did. However, the lineup of Patton Oswalt, Takashi Miike, Australian film critic Alexandra Heller-Nicholas, Stephen King, and Karyn Kusama will not appeal to all fans equally, to put it diplomatically.

Still, listening to Miike and King discuss anything horror related will be an opportunity few fans would want to pass up. Miike’s perspective is particularly notable, explaining Texas Chainsaw’s reception in Japan and tracing its influence on some of his more extreme films, like Ichi the Killer. King also has some worthy contributions, but he never mentions Hooper’s Salem’s Lot, which remains one of the best King adaptations of all time.

Annoyingly, many of the fab-ish five still reflect the same general perspective, especially when trying to score polemical points with respects to the alleged rising level of violence permeating American society. However, the film would have benefited from the more nuanced analysis of Joseph Lanza writing in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Film that Terrified a Rattled Nation, which situates the film within the context of late-1960s and early-1970s violence, definitely including the New Left-adjacent Manson Family Murders, which go unmentioned in Reactions.

King’s The Life of Chuck

At least Chuck Krantz won’t have to worry about fees for 401K withdrawals. Apparently, he is retiring right in the midst of doomsday. The world is ending, but his grateful colleagues are celebrating with billboards all over town. People are definitely confused and, initially, viewers will be too. However, director-screenwriter Mike Flanagan eventually brings everything together in The Life of Chuck, based on the Stephen King novella, which opens this Friday in New Yok theaters.

It is the end of the world—and the end of an era wherever Krantz works. California is sinking into the sea, the internet and infrastructure are failing, and suicides are skyrocketing. The apocalyptic crisis compels school teacher Marty Anderson to reconnect with his ex-wife Felicia Gordon, an exhausted RN, who feels a similar desire for his familiar and comforting presence. Yet, amid all the chaos, they both find all the Chuck Krantz signage rather bizarre.

What is going on here? Act II illuminates little, especially since Flanagan’s adapted narrative flows in reverse order, ending with Act I. It also happens to be a dance number, featuring Krantz and Taylor Franck, a drummer played by “The Pocket Queen,” according to the credits. You might guess she knows how to socket in the pocket, which indeed turns out to be the case.

All will eventually be explained in Act I, which is presented as the third act. Finally, we witness Krantz’s childhood, which is sometimes sad and sometimes mysterious, but the under-sized teen also has his small triumphs.

Frankly, some viewers might be tempted to watch the walk-outs, which could very well be plentiful. However, that would be a mistake, because you really need to see the entire film for all the pieces to fall into place. The good news is the a-ha moment really happens and gives pretty darned significant meaning to everything that came before.

This is definitely Stephen King more in his Shawshank or Stand By Me bag, even though there are considerable fantastical elements—that would be spoilery to describe. It is hard to categorize and it will confuse some viewers, but this is probably the best King adaptation since The Outsider.

Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey

By Stephen King’s standards, Captain Petey Shelburn was not such a bad father. He just had terrible instincts when buying collectibles. Don’t call this wind-up primate a toy, because it is no fun to play with. It is the reason why Shelburn was never around for his twin sons. Unfortunately, Hal and Bill Shelburn get stuck with their father’s evil legacy in Osgood Perkins’ The Monkey, based on King’s short story, which opens tonight in theaters.

Bill was Hal’s senior by a few minutes—and he never let his “younger” brother forget it. Bill bullied Hal mercilessly, but they were equally fascinated by their absent father. However, the airline captain did not intentional abandon his family, as viewers know from the bloody prologue. Inevitably, they find the drumming monkey tucked away with Capt. Petey’s things and turn the key in his back. Then, people start dying.

The Monkey does not physically stab people like Chucky. Instead, it somehow unleashes Final Destination-style accidents that always result in lethal gore. Unfortunately, you cannot direct the simian assassin towards a specific target. It kills who it wants to kill. The twins figure that one out after the second turn of the key. Tragically for Hal, it kills their mother Lois instead of Bill.

Of course, the Monkey cannot be destroyed, so they chain it up in a box and dump it in a well. Eventually, the twins go their separate ways to live sad, solitary lives. Hal is especially sad, but he still manages to slip up and father a son of his own. For young Petey’s safety, Hal tries to keep his distance. However, during a rare road trip together (which might be his final contact, if Petey’s mom and step-father have their way), Hal receives word that his guardian aunt died in a freak Monkey-like accident. By the time Hal and Petey (the younger) reach unfortunate Aunt Ida’s house, they find the town has been plagued by a series of unlikely but gruesome accidents.

King’s original story predated It, but the parallels that emerge in Perkins’ adaptation make it look like an early study for the mammoth novel. Similarly, children survive an encounter with an uncanny evil force, but must return to complete their unfinished business in adulthood. Both Pennywise the clown and the organ-grinder-like Monkey also represent the corruption of symbols of playfulness. However, the twins’ Cain and Abel dynamic adds a dark element unique to The Monkey.

The Boogeyman, on DVD

For those who do not recognize the generic title, this Stephen King story is part of the Night Shift collection, along with the stories that inspired Children of the Corn, Chapelwaite, and Sometimes They Come Back. It has been “dollar-babied” several times, but this year it got a professional studio treatment. If nothing else, viewers will appreciate a properly hung closet door that stays shut during Rob Savage’s The Boogeyman, which releases tomorrow on DVD.

Dr. Will Harper has bad vibes about walk-in patient Lester Billings, but the man is so obviously hurting, he cannot turn him away. Unfortunately, while Harper calls the cops, Billings hangs himself in a closet, after trashing Harper’s late wife’s studio. Obviously, this will not help his daughters, teenaged Sadie and the younger Sawyer, who still struggle with their mother’s death.

Ominously, Billings’ sketches and ravings about a “boogeyman” match the nightmares Sawyer starts having. The little girl is so terrified, Sadie investigates the Billings home, where his widow, Rita claims to still battle a monster who lives in the shadows. She warns Harper if the Boogeyman knows about her family, it will start preying on them next.

Despite its King lineage, this is a pretty conventional, commonplace horror story. However, what elevates The Boogeyman to some extent, is Savage’s super eerie execution. There are several very scary scenes of Sadie Harper stalking the Boogeyman, or vice versa, in the candlelit halls of the Billings house and her own darkened basement, which really work. However, the narrative and characters are just kind of meh.

Chris Messina’s Will Harper is one of the few Stephen King dads who isn’t an abusive drunk, but he is still woefully slow on the up-take. David Dastmalchian is terrific as Lester Billings, but you can tell from on look not to emotionally invest in his character. LisaGuy Hamilton (the judge in Lincoln Lawyer, season one) is terrific as the Harper family analyst, Dr. Weller. (Frankly, King fans will wonder if there is an alternate ending in which she plays a different “role.”)

Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, on Paramount+

Stephen King is Maine’s most famous author, but he hardly promotes state tourism. For instance, fictional Ludlow’s most notable landmark is its infamous animal burial ground. Who wants to visit? As we know, people rarely leave town, but “sometimes they come back.” The sinister backstory of the 2019 remake is explored in Lindsey Anderson Beer’s Pet Sematary: Bloodlines, which premieres Friday on Paramount+, because its Halloween season.

Jud Crandall will grow up to look like John Lithgow (or Fred Gwynne in the 1989 film), but in the 1960s, he was an undrafted teen, planning to leave home as a Peace Corps volunteer, along with his girlfriend Norma. His dad Dan Crandall wants him to get out of town, because he knows the town’s evil secret.

So does Bill Baterman, the son of Crandall’s estranged childhood friend Timmy, who just returned from Vietnam, except he didn’t really. However, by burying his dead son in the shunned cemetery, he rises again—but of course, he is different. The revived Timmy Baterman is nasty and sadistic. He seems to know people’s darkest secrets, which he reveals to toy with his potential prey.

To the credit of Beer and co-screenwriter Jeff Buhler, they do not simply remake the original story fiftysome years earlier. Instead, they focus on Timmy Baterman, who was the subject of Crandall’s monologue in the original 1989 film. They also explore the town’s early lore, some of which is new to Bloodlines, but still feels very King-ish.

Frankly, Bloodlines is a much better film than the disappointing 2019 Pet Sematary, to which it ostensibly serves as a prequel. It definitely helps that it is its own film, so it cannot be directly compared to Mary Lambert’s version. Right from the start, Beer’s execution hits the appropriately eerie notes, without radically reinventing the franchise.

King on Screen, the Documentary

Zane Grey and Simenon saw more of their books adapted for film and television, but Stephen King is still way up there. He might even have more if you include the “dollar babies,” short film adaptations of his short stories, whose dramatic rights King automatically grants to accredited film students for a mere buck. None of the dollar babies are covered in this documentary, but maybe they should have. Of course, there are no shortage of big commercial releases to discuss in Daphne Baiwir’s King on Screen, which releases Friday in theaters.

It is a little awkward discussing Stephen King movies, since the author so notoriously hates Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, which remains the Citizen Kane of King films. However, Baiwir’s talking heads do a nice job addressing the Kubrick film, the subsequent mini-series remake, and the 2019 sequel. According to the director, Mike Flanagan, he did his best to “Parent Trap” the look of the Kubrick film with the plot and tone of King’s novels.

The other titan of King cinema would be Brian de Palma’s Carrie, but the director’s absence is unfortunate. Unlike other movie docs like Sharksploitation, King on Screen has no time for the usual suspects of on-camera commentating critics, which is probably just as well. However, the participating voices are almost only directors. Horror fans are always happy to hear from Mick Garris, Tom Holland, Tom McLouglin, and Creepshow series showrunner (and frequent director) Greg Nicotero, but an appearance by Kathy Bates (obviously the star of Misery, as well as Dolores Claiborne and the original The Stand) or Matt Frewer, who holds the record with five King appearances, might have added an interesting perspective.

Children of the Corn (2023)

This is one Stephen King property that can probably be remade without a lot of pressure. The first film from 1984 remains popular, despite departing significantly from the original short story, which really isn’t considered King’s best work anyway. Then there were a raft of questionable straight-to-DVD sequels and SyFy Channel remakes. The last film in the franchise was truly awful, so most fans should be willing to give director-screenwriter Kurt Wimmer a little leeway for his take on Children of the Corn, which releases Friday in theaters.

No strangers come to town this time around, because why would they? Boleyn Williams’ corn-farming community is dying, thanks to pestilence and faulty GMO seeds. It is so bad, her father wants to pull the plug and accept Federal subsidies for not growing corn. However, Williams wants to stay and fight. So does creepy little Eden Edwards and the corn cult that has sprung up around her. She used to live at the local group foster home, but when her brother went crazy-from-the-fields, the sheriff tried to gas him out of the house, killing two dozen other children in the process. Subsequently, Edwards has claimed to have a weird, pagan connection to the corn fields.

Ill-advisedly, Williams recruits Edwards’ help in staging a public inquiry into the state of local agriculture. She thought it would be a public forum, but Edwards and her cult quickly turn it into the corn-country equivalent of Robespierre feeding the guillotines.

Wimmer’s Corn isn’t exactly fantastic, but it is certainly a healthy improvement over the dismal Children of the Corn: Runaway. It also shows some signs a bit of thought went into it, at least at some early stage. Although Wimmer starts out suggesting this will be an environmental horror, he quickly steers away from that dead end.

Despite the supernatural elements, this Children of the Corn seems to more depict the insanity of mob behavior and cults. In some ways, it very definitely critiques the revolutionary impulse, which once again leads to violent horrors Williams never imagined, but Edwards is eager to unleash. It turns out show trials can go in a very, very ugly direction.

Elena Kampouris and Callan Mulvey are both surprisingly strong as Williams and her decent father Robert. In fact, Mulvey might earn Wimmer’s film the distinction of having the nicest dad of any Stephen King film yet. Unfortunately, Bruce Spence plays Pastor Penny as a sweaty, leering stereotype, but that certainly follows in the King tradition. However, young Kate Moyer is certainly creepy, in an appropriately Village of the Damned-kind of way.

Vintage Quantum Leap: The Boogeyman

Technically, Quantum Leaping is an act of possession. When you think about it, there should be all kinds of moral ramifications to Dr. Sam Beckett’s time-traveling do-gooding. Those were indeed addressed in the first Halloween episode of the original Quantum Leap series, “The Boogeyman—October 31, 1964,” which is visually referenced in tonight’s episode of the continuation series.

Before Stephen King, Joshua Rey, was Maine’s best-known horror author. He is a bit of a hack, but he is active in the community and a supporter of his local church. Every year, he turns his home into a haunted house. Frankly, it looks like he already owned most of the props and creepy trappings, but he shows them off to the public for the Coventry Presbyterian’s annual fundraiser.

According to Ziggy, Rey’s fiancée and research assistant, Mary Greely, will be killed that night. Rey was the only suspect, but there was never enough evidence to charge him. Sam assumes he is there to save her, but dead bodies keep piling up in the meantime. Al Calavicci starts to suspect Greely, but Beckett just doesn’t buy it. Red-headed Greeley, portrayed by Valerie Mahaffey of Northern Exposure, just doesn’t strike him that way. In fact, something about this leap feels off, even beyond the high body-count.

Quantum Leap is science fiction, but this episode totally embraces the horror genre, openly suggesting something might have notice of Beckett. The ending is certainly ambiguous, but it does not exactly walk back the supernatural implications of what viewer see. This is not a Scooby-Doo-style ending, which is maybe why it became a fan-favorite.

Firestarter, Remade by Blumhouse

Arguably, it is more of a thriller with sf elements than a horror story, but the premise is pretty horrifying for parents. Charlie McGee did not just inherit a resemblance to her parents. She also has their “shine.” That was the whole idea for the shadowy government contractor DSI (aren’t they always shadowy), when they experimented on Andy McGee and his wife Vicky Tomlinson-McGee. Little Charlie’s resulting powers are getting harder for her to keep in check at the start of Keith Thomas’s Blumhouse-produced remake of Firestarter, which opens today (and starts streaming on Peacock).

The McGees know their daughter could be so dangerously powerful, she could never have a normal life if DSI and the “deep state” ever got their hands on her. They live under assumed names and completely off the net, but bullied Charlie is starting to attract unwanted attention, especially when her temper ignites real fires.

Captain Hollister knows she is still out there and suspects the potential of her developing X-Men-like abilities. Hollister also has just the man to track down the McGees. John Rainbird understands them all too well. He too has the power to get inside people’s heads, perhaps even better than Tomlinson-McGee and can withstand McGee’s power to “push” mental images and suggestions, at least to an extent. Unfortunately, that “pushing” is starting to take a toll on McGee’s health.

Scott Teems’ screenplay adaptation of Stephen King’s novel very much follows the structure of the 1984 film, which was pretty faithful to the book. It definitely leans into the father-daughter relationship, because that is the whole point of the story (in all its incarnations). However, the family-versus-agents conflict is familiar, to the point of staleness. Horror fans might know John Carpenter was originally in-line to direct the ’84 film, but he lost the gig when The Thing bombed (hard to believe, since it’s now regarded as a classic). Sadly, Blumhouse did not hire him to direct this time around, but he did contribute to the score. You can probably best hear his influence during the tense, confrontational third act.

Chapelwaite, on Epix

Even though it was originally a 30-page short story in Nightshift, it sort of makes sense “Jerusalem’s Lot” has become a mini-series. Technically, it is a prequel to Salem’s Lot, which still holds bragging rights as best Stephen King miniseries yet (and maybe second best overall adaptation behind the original The Shining). This one isn’t quite that good, but it definitely represents a rebound from the disappointing Lisey’s Story. Maine (circa 1850) gets weird again in creator-writers Peter & Jason Filardi’s 10-part Chapelwaite, which premieres Sunday on Epix.

There has been little happiness in the Boone ancestral home of Chapelwaite, but retired whaler Charles Boone hopes to change that when he inherits the property and the local mill from his estranged cousin, Stephen. Much to his surprise the townsfolk of Preacher’s Corners make no effort to hide their hostility when he arrives. The presence of his mixed-raced children, eldest daughter Honor, troubled middle daughter Loa, and son Tane, the youngest, only fan their prejudice, but he promised their late mother he would provide a stable upbringing for them (on dry land).

Unfortunately, Chapelwaite appears to have a destabilizing effect on Captain Boone. He is constantly unnerved by the sound of rats in the walls that only he can hear, especially in light of the family’s history of insanity. Initially, only their governess, modern-thinking Rebecca Morgan and loyal mill employee Able Stewart befriend the Boones, but as the captain uncovers an unholy cabal centered in the nearby ghost town of Jerusalem’s Lot, the local Constable and deeply flawed parson also side with the pariah family.

Indeed, Chapelwaite is at its best during its mid-to-later episodes, when the rag-tag Team Boone takes its stand (so to speak) against the infernal forces of Jerusalem’s Lot, led by the ferocious Jakub. There really is a bit of the vibe from It or The Stand, but set against a wonderfully eerie gothic setting. You can see the King-ish themes and motifs, but there are also Hawthorne-like elements. Unfortunately, that also means there is a very King-esque hostility towards fathers and clergymen, even though both Charles Boone and Rev. Martin Burroughs grow in stature and have their grand moments.

Adrien Brody does a terrific job freaking out and brooding hard as Charles Boone. Young thesps, Jennifer Ens, Sirena Gulamgaus, and Ian Ho, are all quite effective as the Boone children, but the Filardis maximize Loa’s petulant acting-out, to a point that becomes tiresome. However, Devante Senior, Gord Rand, and Hugh Thompson really stand-out, adding depth of characterization as Stewart, Rev. Burroughs, and Constable Dennison.

Stephen King’s Lisey’s Story

Stephen King often cites his 2006 novel as one of his favorites, but in some ways, it is also one of his most precious. It is filled with Carroll-esque terms like "Boo’ya Moon,” the fantasy world his characters slip in and out of and the “Bool” treasure hunts the late novelist Scott Landon used to devise. There is even a sailing ship filled with children who never grow-up in Boo’ya Moon. The tone is still dark and foreboding when Lisey Landon discovers a final “Bool” her husband left behind for her in the eight-episode Lisey’s Story, adapted by the author and entirely directed by Pablo Larrain, which premieres today on Apple TV.

Lisey Landon is still struggling to come to terms with her husband’s death. She saved his life once, by taking a shovel to the stalker who shot him. Frankly, he probably should have died then, but he husband always said “Landons are fast healers.” Maybe that should be “her husband always says,” because Lisey Landon is starting to confuse the present with a rush of memories. It is even harder for viewers to distinguish the time periods.

Landon’s reveries are precipitated by a series of crises. Her emotionally fragile sister Amanda Debusher has apparently broken from reality and lapsed into a near-catatonic state. Rather fortuitously, her late husband anticipated this and pre-arranged for her admission to a long-term care facility. Meanwhile, another psycho-fan starts harassing her, demanding she release her husband’s unpublished papers.

Some of the best King adaptations have been limited TV series, such as Mick Garris’s original The Stand, Tobe Hooper’s Salem’s Lot, and Richard Price’s adaptation of The Outsider, so there were a lot of high hopes for Lisey Story. Unfortunately, the auteurist Larrain is not well-suited to dark fantastical material and King once again proves to be his own worst editor. There is no question Lisey’s Story should have been half its current length—maybe even a quarter.

However, if you want to watch a spectral Clive Owen skulk and brood in a hoodie than King’s adaptation will be your catnip, Time and again, he and Larrain bring us back to Boo’ya Moon or flashback to another horrific episode from his trying childhood, in scenes that should have been combined and compressed.

As a result of all the flashing-back and strolls through New Agey forests, Larrain lets most of the tension and suspense generated by the stalker plotline dissipate. It also causes a lot of confusion, especially since Julianne Moore’s title character apparently never aged a day in all her years with Landon. That seems rather unlikely, especially considering what he and Debusher put her through.

Ironically, some of the best work in Lisey’s Story comes from Jennifer Jason Leigh as the no-nonsense third sister, Darla. She always kicks up the energy level, even though her character often feels like an afterthought. In contrast, poor Joan Allen mostly stares off into space as Debusher. Moore is well-cast and certainly has her moments as the title character. Viewers will lose patience with her need to re-learn every revelation several times over, but that is really a function of questionable editing.

The Outsider: HBO Adapts Stephen King

DNA evidence has been widely hailed as a tool to exonerate the wrongly convicted. However, in Terry Maitland’s case, it falsely implicates him in a horrific child murder. He will need someone who can think way outside the box to prove his innocence. Holly Gibney from the Mr. Mercedes books and TV series is certainly an unconventional investigator. She sees things others miss, so she might be the perfect detective to stalk the real killer in The Outsider, Richard Price’s 10-part adaptation of Stephen King’s novel, which premieres this Sunday on HBO.

Terry Maitland is a well-liked teacher and coach in his quiet, working-class Oklahoma community, until Det. Ralph Anderson has him arrested and cuffed during one of his little league games for the murder of eleven-year-old Frank Peterson. There is ironclad DNA and eye-witness testimony linking Maitland to the crime scene, but his lawyer, Howie Gold, quickly uncovers physical evidence and video footage placing him in another city at the time of the murder.

It is all quite baffling to everyone, so Gold retains Gibney’s specialized services. Feeling guilty for turning the town against the Maitland family, Det. Anderson joins Gold’s investigation team while on leave from the department. He is not inclined to believe the fantastical, even when Gibney uncovers a string of similar child murders attributed to suspects still proclaiming their innocence, due to similarly conflicting DNA evidence and eye-witness statements. However, his wife Jeannie is more willing to reserve judgment and keep an open mind. She too joins Gold’s kitchen cabinet, after forging a sympathetic understanding with Maitland’s wife, Marcy.

Based on the first six episodes provided to the press (out of ten), it should be safe to say the serial killer at work boasts some sort of supernatural shape-and-DNA-shifting powers—and that shouldn’t be particularly spoilery, since it is a creation of Stephen King. However, the series unfolds with the style and drive of a procedural mystery. Indeed, comparisons to HBO’s True Detective are rather apt. Yet, Price fully capitalizes on the existential implications of a monster that (perhaps literally) feeds on human alienation and misery. These are especially damaged characters, even by the standards of King’s oeuvre.

Jason Bateman’s earnest everyman portrayal of Maitland easily convinces viewers to buy into the character’s predicament, sort of like Henry Fonda in Hitchcock’s The Wrong Man taking a detour through the X-Files. Yet, perhaps more importantly, he effectively sets the vibe of mounting dread as the director of the first two episodes. However, Ben Mendelsohn surpasses him when it comes to projecting world-weary angst as Det. Anderson, whose every decision is influenced by the prior death of his own young son.

The Outsider also earns credit for featuring three women characters, who transcend stereotypes and become of equal or greater importance to the story than Maitland or even Anderson. Cynthia Erivo never resorts to cheap ticks or shtick in her endlessly intriguing portrayal of the on-the-spectrum Gibney (radically different from Justine Lupe’s depiction in the Mr. Mercedes series). It showcases her brilliance, a la Cumberbatch’s Sherlock, but also emphasizes her acute vulnerability. Yet, Price also empowers her as a woman, who haltingly explores the possibility of romance with a former law enforcement contact, nicely played by Derek Cecil.

Likewise, Mare Winningham and Julianne Nicholson are consistently devastating as Jeannie Anderson and Marcy Maitland, respectively—two women ironically united in grief. Each woman displays unexpected agency, beyond merely standing by their men. In fact, Nicholson could arguably be considered the Outsider’s lead and central POV figure.

In the Tall Grass: More Stephen King on Netflix

Say what you will about the cult kids in Children of the Corn, but at least they reaped bountiful harvests. In contrast, nothing productive will come from this evil stretch of grassland. Once wayward motorists enter, they can never find their way out in Vicenzo Natali’s In the Tall Grass, an adaptation of Stephen King & Joe Hill’s novella, which premieres today on Netflix.

Stephen King fanatics should note this takes place in Kansas, instead of his mini-Midwest world, encompassing Gatlin and Hemingford Home, Nebraska, but the scenery and sinister goings-on are not all that different. Kansas is a long, flat state to drive through, but grown siblings Becky (the pregnant one) and Cal DeMuth will still regret pulling over near a strange church. Hearing young Tobin Humboldt’s cries for help, they venture into the field, where they quickly find themselves lost and separated.

Apparently, young Humboldt has been in that grassy labyrinth for quite a while. One of those dusty cars parked in front of the church belongs to his parents, who are also trapped inside (evidently all those abandoned vehicles arouse no interest in the Highway Patrol). Tobin is a little weird, but he has some useful information for Cal when they stumble across each other, like the field never moves dead things. However, his father Ross just radiates bad vibes when Becky encounters him. Meanwhile, Travis McKean follows his long missing girlfriend Becky down that lonesome stretch of highway and into the tall grass.

Netflix’s previous King films were quite good, especially the terrific Gerald’s Game, so it is disappointing Tall Grass does not measure up to their standard. The set-up is reasonably intriguing, but as time and reality start to warp, the film loses any semblance of internal logic. The degree to which the film unequivocally equates Evangelical Christianity with primeval sacrificial death cults is also slightly churlish, even by King’s standards. Regardless, the frequency at which things start appearing just to dislodge the road-blocked narrative, like the bowling alley in the middle of nowhere, is conspicuously problematic.

Creepshow—The Series: Gray Matter & House of the Head

When it comes to horror pedigrees, this one is pretty intimidating. The original Creepshow movie was inspired by EC Comics, based on Stephen King stories, directed by George Romero, and co-starred Adrienne Barbeau and an uncredited Tom Akins. There was also a sequel that was okay. Still, the original film leaves some large shoes to fill, but at least King and Barbeau will both lend a hand. Comic books get sinister again when producer-showrunner Greg Nicotero’s series reboot of Creepshow premieres tomorrow on Shudder.

It seems like old times in a good way when the series kicks off with an adaptation of King’s “Gray Matter,” directed by Nicotero co-starring Barbeau as Rose, the kindly elementary school teacher and general store proprietor of a small coastal Maine town. Of course, it is Maine. Indeed, look closely at the notice board for a few Stephen King Easter eggs. A “Storm of the Century” is bearing down on the tiny burg, so most of the townspeople have evacuated, leaving only Rose, Doc, and [Police] Chief. They figure they will just kvetch their way through the storm, until teenaged Richie Grenadine bursts through the door, clearly in an agitated state.

Reviewers have sworn a blood oath not to reveal any details regarding the horrifying whatsit, so you will have to see for yourself. However, the real strengths of the opening story are the classic King setting and the first-rate cast. In addition to Barbeau, Gray Matter co-stars Tobin Bell from the Saw franchise as Chief and Giancarlo Esposito (who isn’t necessarily a genre specialist, but is always interesting on-screen) as Doc. Watching these three do their thing will always be great fun.

In contrast, there are no recognizable faces in The House of the Head, but it is sit-up-and-take-notice creepy. Young Evie’s imagination drew positive stimulus from her deluxe custom doll house, until a body-less head turned inside it. Suddenly, her family of dolls looks absolutely terrified and starts moving on their own. That head seems to exert an evil influence within the doll house and it scares the heck out of her too.

Screenwriter Josh Malerman’s premise is so ingeniously simple and altogether insidious, it seems amazing nobody did it before. Yet, he deserves credit for a fresh kind of doll horror. John Harrison’s direction is also tight, tense, and completely unsettling, while young Cailey Fleming is completely earnest and unaffected as Evie.

Gray Matter is an entertaining nostalgia trip for Creepshow fans, whereas House of the Head is one of the better TV horror anthology stories of the year, so far (along with “Legacy,” “Only Child,” and “Little Monsters” from Two Sentence Horror Stories and “A Traveler” from the latest Twilight Zone reboot). Based on the first episode, we’re optimistic the Creepshow series will prove worthy of its name and lineage. Regardless, Gray Matter and House of the Head are enthusiastically recommended for fans of King, the franchise, and horror anthologies when they start streaming tomorrow (9/26) on Shudder.

Pet Sematary (2019): Maine is a Terrible Place to Raise a Family

Fans have a strange relationship with the 1989 adaptation of Stephen King’s Pet Sematary. The author’s readers were so delighted to finally have a half-decent King horror movie after the mid-1980s doldrums (remember Silver Bullet?) they developed more affection for it than it probably deserved. On the other hand, hard-core Ramones fanatics resented their title theme song as a Hollywood sell-out (as it sort of was). Serious horror watchers were encouraged when the up-and-coming team of Kevin Kölsch & Dennis Widmyer signed on to direct the remake, but the distinctiveness of their previous films is absent from the latest Pet Sematary, which releases today on DVD.

The Pet Sematary novel and subsequent films will annoy your spell-checker to the point of exasperation. The deliberate misspelling matches that of the pet graveyard the Creed family finds nestled away on the property behind their new Maine home. You would think the realtor would be legally obliged to disclose something like that. Behind it is a deadfall built by the Micmac tribe to keep people away from a hilltop burial mound with a serious reputation for causing heebie-jeebies. Reportedly, it was the Wendigo’s old stomping grounds. That definitely should have been covered in the mandatory disclosure.

Nevertheless, Dr. Louis Creed and his wife Rachel are still all smiles moving in with their eight-ish-year-old daughter Ellie and toddler son Gage. Since Jud Crandall, the crusty old codger living next-door turns out to be an nice old softie, they think the only down-side to their new home are the big rigs that constantly come barreling down the highway right in front of their driveway. Alas, “Church,” the family feline is flattened by one of those eighteen-wheelers a few days later. That night, Creed and Crandall set out to bury Church while Ellie is asleep, but instead of planting her in the Pet Sematary, Crandall leads Creed up the deadfall, to bury Church atop the mini Devil’s Tower. Within a matter of hours, Church comes back—changed.

And that should be enough to foreshadow the rest of the story. Of course, you know some mortal remains are going up there sooner or later. Mild spoiler: in a departure from the book and Mary Lambert’s movie, it will be Ellie who follows Church under the wheels of a speeding truck (but honestly, the evil looking little girl on the key art kind of gives that away already).

In fact, most of the changes from King and Lambert are not for the best. Lambert’s film recounts the prior history of Timmy Baterman, a recently returned WWII veteran, who also died prematurely and took a sinister detour through the Micmac burial ground, which gives the film a vibe of ancient evil hanging over the woods. Kölsch & Widmyer only show an old Baterman news headline brought up by an internet search (how Millennial). Conversely, the flashbacks featuring Rachel Creed’s late sister Zelda Goldman (who suffered from Spinal Meningitis) are expanded in ways that are exploitative and distasteful.

Frankly, the best part of this Sematary is John Lithgow playing old Crandall, but Fred Gwynne was still better in the Lambert film. In all fairness, Jete Laurence is terrific as Ellie Creed, even if a lot of her impressive third act work was a mistake in narrative terms. Jason Clarke also does a credible job portraying Dr. Creed’s descent from everyman to self-deluding psycho-tool-of-the-Wendigo. However, Amy Seimetz, a horror movie veteran, seems weirdly aloof as Rachel Creed.

Kölsch & Widmyer maintain a creepy, moldering-forest-smelling atmosphere, but this is just an unnecessary film to remake. Plus, the Starcrawler rendition of the Ramones’ “Pet Sematary” will be galling for the band’s fans, no matter how they felt about the original tune. Basically, this is just a time-killer for horror watchers that does not live up to the standards of the co-directors’ Starry Eyes and their Valentine’s Day contribution to Holidays. Not recommended for deliberate intentional viewing, Pet Sematary releases today (&/9) on DVD and BluRay.