Editorials
“Castle Rock”: How the Best Stephen King Adaptation Could Be One That Isn’t Really a Stephen King Adaptation
Stephen King is a state of mind. The author has written nearly 60 novels, a half-dozen non-fiction books and hundreds of short stories. In doing so, he’s built his own multiverse, one that dates back to 1974’s Carrie all the way to this summer’s The Outsider. That’s a rich well to draw from, and Castle Rock – the new Hulu series from Sam Shaw and Dustin Thomason – is wise to not limit itself to an adaptation of just one of those texts. Instead we get a show inspired by Stephen King’s entire world – and that just might make it the best possible onscreen version of a Stephen King story.
The series takes place in King’s fictional town of Castle Rock, Maine, with at least one character recognizable from his works in Alan Pangborn (Scott Glenn), Castle Rock’s former sheriff, whom Constant Readers will remember from The Dark Half, Four Past Midnight’s “The Sun Dog,” Needful Things and casual mentions in Bag of Bones and Gerald’s Game. But many of the other characters peopling this world are new to us: Melanie Lynskey’s Molly Strand, André Holland’s Henry Deaver, Terry O’Quinn’s Dale Lacy, Sissy Spacek’s Ruth Deaver and Jane Levy’s Jackie all seem like archetypal King characters (the psychic, the tortured but good-hearted attorney, the warden with a dark secret, the grieving widow, the smart-ass neighbor), but they can’t claim any specific King book as their origin.
And we’re given an extra-dose of Kingism through the casting of actors we know from other King adaptations: Spacek made her name as Carrie White in Brian De Palma’s Carrie, while Castle Rock’s Bill Skarsgard gained fans as Pennywise in last year’s It. King diehards might even remember that Lynskey starred, early in her career, as Rachel Wheaton in the 2002 King miniseries Rose Red. With a population of recognizable faces playing familiar characters, Castle Rock managed to put us in a King frame of mind by the time we saw the first trailer.
With every adaptation of a beloved property, there’s risk of disappointment. Favorite characters don’t look or act or sound the way they do in our minds. Budgetary constraints test the limits of our imagination. Runtime constraints make plot omissions necessary. Arguably the best Stephen King adaptation, Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, famously left the author cold. Inarguably the worst Stephen King adaptation, Nikolaj Arcel’s The Dark Tower, disappointed generations of fans who had been waiting for a version of King’s fantasy epic to hit the small or big screen for decades. Even those adaptations that land squarely in the middle of this scale – for instance, Hulu’s last King attempt, 11.22.63, based on a later and thus less iconic King novel – are primed to piss off somebody. (This particular somebody, for instance. I was never going to give the miniseries a shot the moment they announced James Franco as Jake Epping, because James Franco is not my Jake Epping.) You can’t make everybody happy with a King adaptation, because everyone loves something different about his work.
Therein lies the wisdom of Castle Rock’s loosey-goosey approach: we get the atmosphere of a King story – the quaint yet ominous small-town spookiness, the depths and heights of humanity challenged by a supernatural crisis of some sort, not to mention the easter eggs pointing to Cujo, The Shining, Dolores Claiborne and more in every episode – but none of the baggage that comes with adapting someone’s favorite book. Fan biases are diminished, expectations are moderate, minds are open. We’re able to enjoy Castle Rock as its own thing, instead of a lesser version of something we love. It’s the perfect solution for Constant Readers with very strong opinions about their favorite writer. We can enjoy all of the best parts of a Stephen King book without growing irate when a favorite passage is cut for time – or when, as just a for-instance, a director decides that what Dark Tower fans need to see most after thirty-five years of waiting is The Man in Black in a damn apron.
Of course, there could be a dark side to the open-endedness of Castle Rock’s game plan. The series shares a producer with LOST in J.J. Abrams, and there’s every chance that the compelling mystery that’s been developed in the four episodes I’ve seen will peter out in an unsatisfying conclusion. But at least it’ll be given that chance. Fans aren’t closing their minds to the possibility of this series based solely on a casting decision that doesn’t suit their pre-conceived ideas. We’re ready to love Castle Rock, and the first four episodes don’t disappoint.
Editorials
‘Leprechaun Returns’ – The Charm of the Franchise’s Legacy Sequel
The erratic Leprechaun franchise is not known for sticking with a single concept for too long. The namesake (originally played by Warwick Davis) has gone to L.A., Las Vegas, space, and the ‘hood (not once but twice). And after an eleven-year holiday since the Davis era ended, the character received a drastic makeover in a now-unmentionable reboot. The critical failure of said film would have implied it was time to pack away the green top hat and shillelagh, and say goodbye to the nefarious imp. Instead, the Leprechaun series tried its luck again.
The general consensus for the Leprechaun films was never positive, and the darker yet blander Leprechaun: Origins certainly did not sway opinions. Just because the 2014 installment took itself seriously did not mean viewers would. After all, creator Mark Jones conceived a gruesome horror-comedy back in the early nineties, and that format is what was expected of any future ventures. So as horror legacy sequels (“legacyquels”) became more common in the 2010s, Leprechaun Returns followed suit while also going back to what made the ‘93 film work. This eighth entry echoed Halloween (2018) by ignoring all the previous sequels as well as being a direct continuation of the original. Even ardent fans can surely understand the decision to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.
Leprechaun Returns “continued the [franchise’s] trend of not being consistent by deciding to be consistent.” The retconning of Steven Kostanski and Suzanne Keilly’s film was met with little to no pushback from the fandom, who had already become accustomed to seeing something new and different with every chapter. Only now the “new and different” was familiar. With the severe route of Origins a mere speck in the rearview mirror, director Kotanski implemented a “back to basics” approach that garnered better reception than Zach Lipovsky’s own undertaking. The one-two punch of preposterous humor and grisly horror was in full force again.
With Warwick Davis sitting this film out — his own choice — there was the foremost challenge of finding his replacement. Returns found Davis’ successor in Linden Porco, who admirably filled those blood-stained, buckled shoes. And what would a legacy sequel be without a returning character? Jennifer Aniston obviously did not reprise her final girl role of Tory Redding. So, the film did the next best thing and fetched another of Lubdan’s past victims: Ozzie, the likable oaf played by Mark Holton. Returns also created an extension of Tory’s character by giving her a teenage daughter, Lila (Taylor Spreitler).
It has been twenty-five years since the events of the ‘93 film. The incident is unknown to all but its survivors. Interested in her late mother’s history there in Devil’s Lake, North Dakota, Lila transferred to the local university and pledged a sorority — really the only one on campus — whose few members now reside in Tory Redding’s old home. The farmhouse-turned-sorority-house is still a work in progress; Lila’s fellow Alpha Epsilon sisters were in the midst of renovating the place when a ghost of the past found its way into the present.
The Psycho Goreman and The Void director’s penchant for visceral special effects is noted early on as the Leprechaun tears not only into the modern age, but also through poor Ozzie’s abdomen. The portal from 1993 to 2018 is soaked with blood and guts as the Leprechaun forces his way into the story. Davis’ iconic depiction of the wee antagonist is missed, however, Linden Porco is not simply keeping the seat warm in case his predecessor ever resumes the part. His enthusiastic performance is accentuated by a rotten-looking mug that adds to his innate menace.
The obligatory fodder is mostly young this time around. Apart from one luckless postman and Ozzie — the premature passing of the latter character removed the chance of caring about anyone in the film — the Leprechaun’s potential prey are all college aged. Lila is this story’s token trauma kid with caregiver baggage; her mother thought “monsters were always trying to get her.” Lila’s habit of mentioning Tory’s mental health problem does not make a good first impression with the resident mean girl and apparent alcoholic of the sorority, Meredith (Emily Reid). Then there are the nicer but no less cursorily written of the Alpha Epsilon gals: eco-conscious and ex-obsessive Katie (Pepi Sonuga), and uptight overachiever Rose (Sai Bennett). Rounding out the main cast are a pair of destined-to-die bros (Oliver Llewellyn Jenkins, Ben McGregor). Lila and her peers range from disposable to plain irritating, so rooting for any one of them is next to impossible. Even so, their overstated personalities make their inevitable fates more satisfying.
Where Returns excels is its death sequences. Unlike Jones’ film, this one is not afraid of killing off members of the main cast. Lila, admittedly, wears too much plot armor, yet with her mother’s spirit looming over her and the whole story — comedian Heather McDonald put her bang-on Aniston impersonation to good use as well as provided a surprisingly emotional moment in the film — her immunity can be overlooked. Still, the other characters’ brutal demises make up for Lila’s imperviousness. The Leprechaun’s killer set-pieces also happen to demonstrate the time period, seeing as he uses solar panels and a drone in several supporting characters’ executions. A premortem selfie and the antagonist’s snarky mention of global warming additionally add to this film’s particular timestamp.
Critics were quick to say Leprechaun Returns did not break new ground. Sure, there is no one jetting off to space, or the wacky notion of Lubdan becoming a record producer. This reset, however, is still quite charming and entertaining despite its lack of risk-taking. And with yet another reboot in the works, who knows where the most wicked Leprechaun ever to exist will end up next.
Horror contemplates in great detail how young people handle inordinate situations and all of life’s unexpected challenges. While the genre forces characters of every age to face their fears, it is especially interested in how youths might fare in life-or-death scenarios.
The column Young Blood is dedicated to horror stories for and about teenagers, as well as other young folks on the brink of terror.
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