Editorials
This Week’s ‘The Queen’ Just Elevated “Castle Rock” to Unforgettable Television
In the world of Stephen King, Sissy Spacek is of course known as Carrie White. But with “Castle Rock,“ Spacek has ensured King fans will never forget the name Ruth Deaver.
There’s a whole lot happening on “Castle Rock,” now seven episodes deep, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about there being *too many* ideas at play. The show feels a bit disjointed and in danger of coming off the rails completely at any moment, with disparate storylines involving a mysterious young man and “the voice of God” out in the woods that have become increasingly hard to follow. But this week’s ‘The Queen’ brought a temporary silence to much of that noise, primarily focused on one character and her deeply heartbreaking story.
It was the best episode to date, and one of the finest hours of horror TV in years.
From the beginning, the heart of “Castle Rock” has been the relationship between former sheriff Alan Pangborn (a well-known King character) and Ruth Deaver, a decades-spanning love story that began when the two were young and continued when Pangborn returned to town as an older man. Prior to this week, Spacek wasn’t given all that much to do as Ruth, mostly presented as a detached character in the fog of crippling Alzheimer’s. ‘The Queen,’ however, presented many of the season’s moments from her own point of view, completely immersing us in Ruth’s fractured head-space for a psychological journey into the devastating inner workings of the disease. With the chess pieces Alan gifted to her as her only means of returning back to reality, the episode took us on a trip into Ruth’s mind, plagued by memories (both good and bad) that rip her away from the present and temporarily lock her quite literally in the past.
Countless movies and television shows have featured characters dealing with Alzheimer’s, but we almost always experience their mental anguish through the eyes of another character. Boldly, ‘The Queen’ does something I’ve never seen any piece of entertainment do before, visually conveying Ruth’s daily experiences in the way that she herself is experiencing them; the episode essentially presents those experiences in the way that horror movies do nightmare sequences, bringing a sense of understanding to the horrors of a real-life disease that plagues so many. As Ruth jumps between space and time and reckons with past and present, we go through all of it with her, the episode brilliantly depicting Alzheimer’s on both mental and visual levels.
‘The Queen’ would hardly work if not for its incredible performance from Sissy Spacek, who of course played a prom queen in the aforementioned Carrie (the episode’s title an intended wink and nod to King fans, co-creator Sam Shaw admits to EW). The episode is essentially a one-woman-showcase of Spacek’s talents, and it’s because she’s so good at conveying deep, complex emotions without saying a single word that Ruth’s confusion, fear and heartbreak is so gut-wrenching to watch. If any episode of television this year instantly made one of its actors into a shoe-in for an Emmy, ‘The Queen’ is that episode. Spacek that actor. Over 40 years ago, Spacek landed an Oscar nomination for playing Carrie White in Brian De Palma’s film, and if there’s any justice, she’ll be an awards contender for her return to King’s world. It just seems right, doesn’t it?
Of course, the major talking point of the episode is its final moments, wherein Ruth accidentally shoots Alan multiple times, killing him almost instantly. Long story short, Ruth gets it in her head that she has to kill “The Kid” in order to be free from the time loop she’s been in, and she mistakes Alan for “The Kid” and guns him down instead. The moment of Alan’s death is played beautifully by both Spacek and Scott Glenn, with the character gracefully accepting his fate in his final moments. Even in that moment, lying in a pool of his own blood and with the love of his life holding the gun, Glenn makes it clear that Alan is at peace. He still loves Ruth, and nothing in the world could ever change that. As ever, his bleeding heart feels nothing but pure love.
The true heartbreak comes in the follow-up scene, when Ruth’s mind takes her back into the memory of Alan arriving on her doorstep, years after her emotionally abusive husband had died. The two embrace, and Alan promises Ruth that he’ll never leave her. In the final shot, we see two of Ruth’s chess pieces on a dresser. The King has fallen. Only the Queen is standing. But Ruth doesn’t reach for them. Instead, she remains in the warm embrace of her happy past. Perhaps she’s choosing to stay in that moment forever. A silver lining to the disease that’s ruined her life.
How does “The Kid” play into all this? Was he really channeling Ruth’s late husband during the events of ‘The Queen,’ or was all of that happening inside of Ruth’s not-quite-reliable mind? Honestly, I have no idea. The character’s inclusion in the episode’s storyline was a bit off-putting for me, again a side effect of the season’s issue with having a bit too much going on at any given time. Here’s hoping we eventually get all the answers we’re craving. In the meantime, ‘The Queen’ was the first truly unforgettable hour of “Castle Rock” so far.
If it wasn’t already, the Hulu series is now must-watch television.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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