Doctor Sleep
Director Mike Flanagan (The Haunting of Hill House, Geralds Game) has the monumental task of not only creating an entertaining and sufficiently crafted standalone entry based off the novel of the same name by Stephen King but also a sequel to the universally critically-acclaimed and genre-defining horror that is Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. It is an achievement that many, and presumably most, directors would avoid at all cost. Not only the trouble to craft a compelling film with the enormous source material from the famed horror author but also to live up to the expectation and task of what Kubrick crafted. King's work has often been retooled, remixed and rebooted in a constant flow. Still, only one director before Flanagan dared to follow up a Kubrick film with only Peter Hyams's 2010: The Year We Make Contact, the sequel to 2001: a Space Oddysey, having the sole credit for over forty years — until now.
The end result for Flanagan's film is not too dissimilar to that of Hyams: a film that has a great potential to explore its own mythology but ultimately drowns in a swarm of excessive connectivity with its predecessor. This factor ultimately serves as the sole purpose of the satisfaction for the audience with both films leading to an inevitable climactic duel based on preexisting material instead of organic closure for each individual property to conclude in its own right.
To get it out of the way: yes, there are multiple direct references to The Shining, some subtle and others so glaringly obvious and in the viewers face it becomes slightly overwhelming. The positive is that there has to be direct references to the material because this story acts as a direct sequel. For the most part, Flanagan exercises such in a fascinating and captivating manner in Danny's (Ewan McGregor) trajectory. It adds a significant amount of weight and depth to the character that McGregor runs with in a tragically haunting and compelling fashion.
The hurt, pain and agony of the events of The Overlook Hotel are continually revolving around Danny Torrance's present-day struggles. It is crafted, quite literally, that Danny is an abuser in his early life with triggers and fiery fallout. The manner of which is done with elegance and poignancy. That being said, it often acts as a subtle nuance with Rebecca Ferguson's Rose the Hat taking centre stage as the films primary villain — for the films first and second half anyhow. Ferguson puts in a wonderfully coy and electric performance on screen but is lost in the mix of a feature that, ironically enough, devours itself through constant submergence of its predecessor. This puts her to one side to rot away with no real avail.
The issues concerning The Shining furthers problems regarding both pacing and narrative. At a running time of a substantial one hundred and fifty minutes, it is at times painfully elongated in places. Specific sequences without further detail are far too long for their own good and do not further the film to the point Flanagan demands but boil away with no particular direction aside to create flavourless textures. Such an element is all well and good and often acts as an effective engagement tactic between audience and film — explicitly regarding the development of Kyliegh Curran's Abra Stone — and for the films first two hours said element is on course to construct a film with an ideal original direction with suspense and organic, emotional turmoil. Then the third act occurs and, for the most part, everything built before that moment is lost in the fire of hollow fan service.
Curran's Abra Stone and Ferguson's characters’ parallel arcs — that have a robust, evocative sense of structure and layers — are dropped in a matter of minutes purely to exercise the right to explore moments of incredibly flat and underwhelming flashes of the now-supposed franchise with no intention to dig deeper for further provocative prowess aside to romanticise now vacant moments that Kubrick mastered four decades beforehand. The suspense and tension are undeniably felt throughout the film, but that particular moment in which the film turns into a completely different film ultimately evokes a sense of events being redundant or never feeling as if it convincingly evolves. Before long, the film becomes clear that it is continuously prolonging the inevitable to show the audience what they think they want. Moments of which impersonates in the same vein as a parody rather than organic pieces of the puzzle.
Performances and the quality of first two-thirds of the film are undeniably positive. Flanagan's use and movement of the camera, for starters, is outstanding. In particular, how the director blocks a scene and constructs a set-piece is nothing short of exquisite. The meandering, emotional intensity of build-up and development is superbly implemented for maximum impact with the director’s editing skills truly a flawless masterclass of conviction. The cinematography by Michael Fimognari equally plays a small but integral aspect for total immersion, often utilising a muted blue and grey colour palette to convincingly evoke the emotional state of the film’s titular character, but the warmer the film becomes, it evolves with it in a profound progression. Nevertheless, beauty is not enough to save a feature that felt somewhat doomed from its first word on paper.
Doctor Sleep is released on October 31st, 2019.