“It started in May. In a small town. And every month after that whenever the moon was full… it came back.”
Dig into the horror aisle at your local video store and you’ll find Silver Bullet, a werewolf yarn soaked in King mythology and slathered in small-town Americana. Directed by Daniel Attias, this 1985 adaptation of Stephen King’s novella Cycle of the Werewolf promises fur, fangs, and full moons—but only partially delivers the bite.
The sleepy town of Tarker’s Mills is rocked by a string of grisly murders. Whispers of a beast grow louder as the body count rises, and while most townsfolk hide indoors after dark, one brave boy in a souped-up motorised wheelchair dares to face the lurking horror head-on. The premise has all the makings of a great ‘80s creature feature, and with King himself penning the screenplay, the setup drips with lore and that unmistakable New England dread.
But here’s the rub: Silver Bullet is a film forever caught in the shadows. On one side, it wants to be a heartfelt coming-of-age tale, steeped in nostalgia. On the other, it reaches for werewolf horror glory. In the end, it struggles to rise above being a middle-of-the-road monster movie with more bark than bite. The creature effects—courtesy of Carlo Rambaldi—are clunky by modern eyes, and even back in ’85 they looked a little tame compared to the lycanthrope heavyweights of The Howling and An American Werewolf in London.
Still, there’s fun to be had. Corey Haim delivers a charming performance as Marty, the young hero on wheels, while Gary Busey goes full throttle as Uncle Red, equal parts lovable and unhinged. Their chemistry injects life into the otherwise plodding hunt for the beast. And that climax, when silver meets fur under the glow of the moon, has just enough punch to remind you why werewolf movies never go out of style.
Looking back four decades later, Silver Bullet is soaked in nostalgia, saturated in mythology, and baked in King. But it never quite breaks free to bask in the moonlight. It’s not the best werewolf movie of the ‘80s, not by a long shot—but for horror fans prowling the aisles in search of VHS-era chills, it’s still worth a late-night rental.
📼 Staff Pick! “Stephen King writes it. Gary Busey chews it. A kid in a turbo wheelchair vs. a werewolf—how can you not at least take this home for the weekend?”
Sometimes when we get caught up reviewing all these films, it’s easy – all too easy – to forget that as with a painter staring at a blank canvas; a director, when given their brief, is staring at a multitude of choices in which to tell the story they have written (or in the case of The Long Walk; been given) . And this particular story is the brainchild of writing grand master Stephen King. So, no presh. Also throw in the fact that it involves walking, a ton of it, and you might think this is a film for a novice (too inexperienced to know that this is an extremely tough assignment) or a black belt filmmaker. Someone who knows enough to know that a movie that’s about walking in the open air gives you nowhere to go. No immediate cutaways, no car chases, no love scenes to dictate changes in pace etc. Heck even your coverage choices are limited by how stylised (or not) you want to go about filming men walking. And walking. And walking. So what do you do? Well, there are a few things this pic leans on, and we’ll talk about those in a bit. But first – some much-needed context for the 0.08% of you who have clicked on this article not knowing what this movie is about. Set in a dystopian alternative reality (around 1970’s ish – although the exact time period is never stated, so I’m going off the novel, which was written in 1979) you soon realise that The Hunger Games (and King’s own The Running Man) owe a lot to this idea. Which is, you get people to WILLINGLY go through a trial of fire to get some nebulous sense of financial freedom, and freedom from bondage. In this particular case, you walk. As in you collate at a starting line, get assigned a number and you walk. There is no finish line. Last man standing (and it is all men in this story. Young men, one from each State of the U.S. – so 50 in total) wins. And wins big. Both in terms of $ and a wish… The rule is you DO NOT stop. Evah. If you do for more than a few seconds you are given a warning. If you fall below 3 miles an hour you are given a warning. More than 3 warnings in an hour and you are executed there and then by one of the volley of military personnel keeping pace with you. Water and rudimentary rations are given to the walkers, which prolongs their agony if anything. Because stopping to relieve yourself or sleeping is counted as a warning/shootable offence. Taking a pebble out of your shoe, bad weather, incredibly steep inclines…. you’d be surprised just how many things can impede a good walk when halting is not an option. And that’s what this review will do right now to get the always insightful Chris Dawes to give his take on the movie. Over to you Chris!
Ok. So. In my view there are two types of Stephen King adaptations – The genre defining classic (The Shining, Green Mile, Shawshank) and Dreamcatcher.
The Long Walk is the former. It’s incredible – they have managed to make a minimalist, mid budget film about a bunch of people walking through middle America deeply engaging. Even the moments that you can see coming hit you, and hit you hard. Everyone in this film is acting the shit out of it in the best possible way – I reckon this will be the breakout movie for a bunch of the next generations’ Oscar winners. It’s the kind of film that sits with you when it is over. And boy howdy, do I love a Mark Hamill heel turn – I genuinely hated his character in a way I have not often hated a film bad guy. Fucker managed to out-Darth Darth. Glorious. No notes. See this movie.
So, as you can see – mixed emotions from Chris there. I kid. As he touched upon, the best weapon this movie had at its disposal was casting. One way to get around a story that has limitations in terms of setting is to make sure your actors are world class for the roles they have been chosen to play. And for this trek, the filmmakers have nailed it. When all you have is dialogue interspersed with ratcheting tension with each death, it helps that the baseline words come from Stephen King. But when those words are delivered by young actors who themselves are clearly gifted craftsmen, then you have the luxury of letting this movie do all the heavy lifting for you. And the tone from the outset is thrown down by the only real female member of the cast – Judy Greer. Now well and truly in the mother character phase of her career, her heartbreak as she bids farewell to her son at the starting line hits a perfect balance. Not over-wrought to put you off the film before it’s even started, but 100% grounded in a reality you can buy into. Because at this point of the movie you don’t know the rules of The Walk, but in a great example of show don’t tell, you know it can’t be good. So from the get-go you are intrigued and a little bit tense – the exact sort of tone you want at the start of a flick like this. So. Writing and acting. That’s how you make a dangerously simple premise work. [Allow time for the world’s biggest d’uh]. But another thing that played in favour of this film was its unapologetic refusal to look away. The way these men die is graphic, and that’s the point. A bullet does horrendous damage to a human body. Powered metal explodes through bone and tissue and it doesn’t care how you look when it does, and this film makes sure you SEE that, in all its factually visceral detail.
And it’s not gratuitous either. But rather, the point. Because why would these men sign up for something that has a 49 in 50 chance of killing you in a physically painful and undignified way? Well – why would 12 districts send 2 young people each year to fight to the death for the amusement of the rich masses? And by extension… why would SO MANY people in a real-life election vote AGAINST their own best interest? Because the illusion those in power sell to those without is tantalising and intoxicating. It’s framed in rules that THEY set, but if you play the game, you can be ONE OF THEM. One of US! In this case, chances are 49 to 50 against, but the result is binary. It’s either yes, or it’s no. And most of us think and feel – deep down – we are the lead character of our own story. And rules don’t apply to lead characters! Lead characters stand out by going against the mainstream and beating the odds. Lead characters are special and so are YOU! Despite something immutable as math saying you’re not. Plus changing an unfair status quo through revolution seems like a lot of hard work. Work that mostly benefits those who come after you, as revolts usually kill a lot of instigators. Even successful ones. So why not choose a path that could immediately benefit YOU instead? Countless money AND a wish? So what if the odds are not in favour? If you want anything in life, anything that’s worth it, you gotta work for it. Bleed for it. Walk for it. Die for it.
The Prognosis:
Power is an illusion, but it doesn’t make it not real. And this film makes you feel that every step of the way. 5 stars.
By the mid-1980s, Stephen King had already become a powerhouse name in horror cinema, with adaptations of Carrie (1976), The Shining (1980), and Christine (1983) cementing his influence. Cat’s Eye (1985), directed by Lewis Teague, took a different approach by presenting a horror anthology linked by a wandering feline. While it may not reach the same heights as King’s most revered works, Cat’s Eye remains a solid genre effort, offering a mix of psychological tension, supernatural horror, and dark humour.
The film’s triptych of tales begins with “Quitters, Inc.,” starring James Woods as a desperate man who enrolls in a sinister program to quit smoking, only to find the methods more terrifying than expected. Woods delivers a strong performance, balancing paranoia with nervous energy, making his character’s predicament all the more gripping. The second story, “The Ledge,” follows Robert Hays as a gambler forced to traverse the narrow ledge of a high-rise building by a vengeful crime boss. This segment is packed with suspense and effectively utilises vertigo-inducing cinematography to heighten the tension.
The final segment, “General,” shifts into a more supernatural realm, with a young Drew Barrymore playing a girl tormented by a malevolent gnome that only her stray cat, General, seems to understand. Barrymore, fresh off E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) and Firestarter (1984), once again proves herself a strong child actor, giving the film a heart amid its more macabre elements. Her presence adds emotional weight to an otherwise whimsical horror entry, ensuring the audience remains invested in her fate.
Director Lewis Teague, who had previously helmed Cujo (1983), brings a polished visual style to Cat’s Eye, ensuring each segment has its own distinct atmosphere. While the stories vary in intensity, the film remains engaging throughout, aided by King’s darkly humorous and inventive storytelling. The anthology format allows for quick pacing, though it also means that not all segments leave a lasting impact.
The Prognosis:
As a whole, Cat’s Eye is a respectable entry in the pantheon of King adaptations, offering enough thrills and memorable performances to make it a worthwhile watch. While it may not be the most iconic of King’s cinematic ventures, its mix of psychological horror, dark comedy, and supernatural tension make it a unique entry in his filmography. Forty years later, it remains an enjoyable, if somewhat underrated, slice of 80s horror cinema.
It has a CRUSH on you! When an accident involving a folding machine at an old laundry happens, detective John Hunton investigates. As his investigation progresses, he begins to suspect the machine is possessed by a demon from Hell.
By 1995, director Tobe Hooper had long cemented his legacy in horror history with The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974) and Poltergeist (1982), while Robert Englund had become an icon as Freddy Krueger. Their reunion in The Mangler—an adaptation of a lesser-known Stephen King short story—should have been an exciting horror event. Instead, it became one of the more peculiar and divisive entries in all their careers.
It’s not every day that a movie about a possessed industrial laundry press makes it to the big screen, but that’s exactly the kind of bizarre energy The Mangler brings. The film exists in a world of exaggerated performances, over-the-top set pieces, and a plot so ludicrous that it straddles the line between horror and dark comedy. Englund, buried under grotesque makeup as the sadistic factory owner Bill Gartley, chews the scenery with relish. Meanwhile, Ted Levine, fresh off The Silence of the Lambs, lends his gravelly, weary presence to the role of the skeptical detective who slowly realises that there may be supernatural forces at play.
Hooper leans into the absurdity, crafting a grimy, oppressive atmosphere that feels reminiscent of his early work, albeit with a more surreal, almost operatic quality. However, the film struggles with pacing and tone—moments of genuine horror are often undercut by unintentional comedy, making it an acquired taste even for die-hard horror fans. The practical effects and gore are commendable, but the story itself stretches believability to the breaking point, even for King’s standards.
Despite its many flaws, The Mangler has developed a small cult following over the years, thanks in part to its sheer audacity. While it never reached the heights of Hooper’s greatest works, it remains a fascinating oddity in ‘90s horror, a relic from a time when studios were still willing to gamble on the outlandish. For those willing to embrace its madness, it’s an entertaining, if deeply flawed, slice of supernatural horror.
Osgood Perkins has built a reputation for moody, atmospheric horror (The Blackcoat’s Daughter, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House), crafting eerie slow burns that settle under your skin. So it’s baffling that his adaptation of Stephen King’s The Monkey swings so wildly in the opposite direction, embracing an oddly comedic tone that is both its saving grace and its Achilles’ heel.
The film follows twin brothers who, after discovering a cursed wind-up monkey, become entangled in a series of grotesque and improbable deaths. Decades later, the sinister toy resurfaces, forcing the now-estranged siblings to confront their past—and the murderous primate—before its deadly rhythm consumes them completely.
As someone who was deeply impacted by King’s short story during my formative years, this adaptation feels like a tonal misstep. While Perkins injects moments of dry, almost absurd humour that occasionally land (I’ll admit, I chuckled more than once), the film never fully commits to either horror or comedy, leaving it feeling strangely weightless. The sense of dread that should accompany a tale about an unrelenting, supernatural force is missing, replaced with an offbeat energy that doesn’t quite fit.
Visually, The Monkey does retain some of Perkins’ signature flair. There are pockets of eerie imagery, particularly when the toy is in motion, its drum banging in ominous slow motion as its glassy eyes seem to bore into the characters’ souls. However, the film’s pacing stumbles between moody horror and slapstick absurdity, undercutting its tension just as it starts to build. Instead of letting the horror breathe, it often pivots to a joke or exaggerated reaction, as if second-guessing its own scares.
The performances do their best to sell the concept, with the lead actors committing to the madness, but there’s a disjointedness to the storytelling that prevents any real emotional weight from forming. Without a stronger anchor—whether it be a grounded sense of familial trauma or a truly nightmarish atmosphere—the film lacks the staying power of both Perkins’ previous work and King’s original story.
With The Monkey, Perkins seems to be playing against type, but instead of reinventing the demonic toy subgenre, he fumbles it. The film claps along to its own beat, but much like the monkey itself, the rhythm grows tiresome—thumping away long after the terror has worn off.
When you hear Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot is getting a new adaptation, there’s an immediate buzz for horror fans. After all, the 1979 miniseries set a high bar with its chilling atmosphere, notable moments, and David Soul’s iconic portrayal of Ben Mears. Sadly, this latest version tries to sink its teeth into King’s vampiric tale but lacks the vitality to make a lasting impression.
Directed by Gary Dauberman (Annabelle Comes Home), the 2024 Salem’s Lot promises a fresh, modern take on King’s story of a small town overtaken by ancient evil. There are fleeting moments of intrigue that tease the potential of the film, scenes where the atmosphere and menace feel tangible. These moments, however, are not enough to redeem an adaptation that feels strangely bloodless for one of King’s most terrifying novels.
The film suffers from an inability to give its cast anything meaningful to work with, despite the rich source material. The ensemble is solid on paper, but in practice, none of the actors have enough depth to bring the story to life. Even with characters like Ben Mears (played by Lewis Pullman) and the sinister Straker (played by Bill Camp), there’s a frustrating lack of emotional resonance. The result is a series of performances that feel flat, as though the cast was given little to sink their teeth into—despite King’s novel offering plenty of opportunities for real emotional and psychological heft.
Visually, the film often falls into familiar traps, delivering dark, moody settings without offering much innovation. There are glimmers of suspense, but the scares never truly land. It feels like the film is playing it too safe, rather than embracing the gothic horror and creeping dread that made Salem’s Lot so beloved. What we get instead is a product that looks slick but lacks any real heart—a soul-less retread of familiar territory. (Yes, David Soul, pun intended.)
The biggest disappointment is how the adaptation squanders King’s brilliant narrative about small-town evil and the creeping rot of corruption. Rather than leaning into the novel’s rich themes and psychological terror, the film relies too heavily on surface-level spooks. It lacks the depth that made both King’s novel and the 1979 miniseries so enduring. The filmmakers seem content with a pale imitation of the original, rather than delivering something that truly bites.
The Prognosis:
Salem’s Lot (2024) is a missed opportunity. It does just enough to lure you in, but leaves you feeling unsatisfied, much like the pale, lifeless creatures it tries to evoke. For diehard fans of King’s work, it may hold some interest. For everyone else, it’s a lesson in how even the most powerful stories can end up feeling anemic when the right spark is missing.
A fitting metaphor for this latest entry: like a vampire with no blood to drain, it ultimately fails to live.
We need a name for a genre of horror that features a supernatural Macguffin that latches itself onto someone and puts them through hell, to the – and this can’t be underlined enough – disbelief of all those around them. In these films the outcome for the lead actor (or usually actress) is that they die. Or they “beat” the phantom thing only to be taken out in the coda, because these creatures are supernatural herpes. You can put ém down, but they’ll always come back… Anyway – we can cite a number of these movies, which I’ll leave Saul Muerte to fill out…
Gee, thanks Ant, I’m guessing from your description that you’re talking about Supernatural Horrors. In which case, here’s a bunch of descent ones… (SAUL)
The Orphanage (2007)
The Innkeepers(2011)
The Babadook (2014)
Under The Shadow (2016)
His House (2020)
… but suffice to say The Boogeyman is the latest iteration. Based on the Stephen King short story of the same name, it follows the above formula to a tee, and so threatens to be a snooze fest of paint-by-numbers proportions. What it does – being an adaptation from the Master of Horror himself, and therefore makes total sense – is make it character focused. Which on paper straight away causes it to be better for the effort alone. Or it would be if it were not for a few irritating touchstone cliches that the film hits pretty hard (but more on that later). The lead is Sadie Harper (Sophie Thatcher who played the young Regan in The Exorcist TV Series) – a teenage girl whose mother was killed in a car accident a year earlier. Her father is a psychiatrist, Will (Chris Messina), who of course deals with the passing of his wife by NOT talking about it with his children, which equals cliché #1 – a psyche doc who is terrible at being a psychologist to his own family. Sadie has a younger sister – Sawyer (Viven Lyra Blair – Birdbox) – who can’t sleep at night without a nightlight (and is a bed wetter to boot) and of course is afraid of monsters lurking in her closet. (Although not enough to CLOSE the door and barricade it with a chair or anything… but kids are notorious non-planners). So what happens to these Harpers? Well, the dad gets a visit from a clearly disturbed man wanting to make a walk-in appointment – Lester Billings (David Dastmalchian – Boston Strangler) (has there EVAH been a more Stephen King sounding name than “Lester Billings”? :P). Lester tells Will his three children have died. The first from what would appear to be natural but tragic circumstance (SIDS) but the other two… not so much. So of course, all eyes are now on him ala Kathleen Folbigg (for non-Aussie readers out there, please feel free to Google) and poor Lester is at his wits end. Especially once he reveals that what he believes killed child 2 and 3 was… not of this world… Once that’s done – Lester, now that he has served his story purpose – promptly kills himself (or DID HE…..? Dun dun….blaaaaah!!!) and we are off to the races. Because of course what’s really at play here is a demon like creature that is visible only in shadow. It attacks you and makes you seem crazy as it’ll only present itself to victims it targets. After running through Lester’s kids like a laxative through a colon, it soon finds the Harpers a delicious temptation because it likes to zero in on a family struck by natural tragedy (remember the mum?) since such pain leaves them “vulnerable” (or sum such) and it wants to feed off their terror. I honestly may have zoned out at that point, ‘cause when do they don’t do that? Anyway, the stage is set, from small scares to bigger ones, as Sadie & Sawyer slowly believe the creature is real …to finding out more about it….to fighting off the scepticism of all the disbelieving side characters around them (including their dad. Natch). And of course, we get The Plan to defeat the creature, followed by the inevitable climax as we see if this film is one where the plan works, or doesn’t, or does, then doesn’t… (you know how the variables go). Sadie is ably played by Sophie Thatcher and Sawyer is excellently played by Vivien Lyra Blair. Sadie has a best friend who is a pretty poor one as she aligns herself with a clique of nasty bullies straight out of the mean-girl formula playbook, and Lester’s distraught wife provides the movie with the monster exposition scenes that tell us (in vague terms) what it is, and what can be done to kill it. Although just once it’d be nice for these sorts of films to break the format and have the demon creature do its shit in front of cops and a news crew. That way a concerted effort can be made to capture/kill it by more than a single exhausted & terrified protagonist. Mind you, in this day & age, even if the media filmed such a creature half the world would instantly brand it fake news. Maybe that’s what a really smart Boogeyman would (& should) do? Attack its victim by first confusing them, and then gaslighting them. Big time.
The Prognosis.
Starts slow. Starts cliched. Starts too hard. But you do stick around to see how it ends.
Sleepwalkers was one of those movies that has immersed itself in my mind and I’m pretty sure formed part of my horror film makeup. It’s probably not surprising really if I divulge a little of my personal journey through horror films. I would have been around 14 years old at the time of its release and already had sunk my impressionable mind into the works of Stephen King and knowing his name was attached to the writing credits for what would have been his first not to be based on any of his pre-existing works (Not that I knew this at the time). It also starred Madchen Amick, hot off the David Lynch hit tv series Twin Peaks. Lynch was also integral to forming my cinephilia and with Amick’s involvement, I was already hooked. It would also be directed by Mick Garris who has since carved a name for himself in the name of horror on-screen and often using King’s work as source material. Later, I would understand the importance that Aice Krige would play in movies having already carved a name through Chariots of Fire, Ghost Story, and Barfly. This would be my first encounter with Krige however and it’s fair to say that her role of the matriarchal shapeshifter Mary, a shapeshifting energy vampire, sets the tone for the whole movie.
Along with her son Charles Brady (Brian Krause) feeds off the lifeforce of virgin women and can transform into werecats to feed on their prey, whilst also using their powers of telekinesis and illusion to manipulate those with whom they encounter. Their only weakness are domestic cats, who are resistant to the sleepwalkers magic and can cause fatal wounds.
Madchen Amick takes on the role of Charles’ virginal interest Tanya, who is lured in by his magnanimous charm. Before long, Tanya realises that there is more to Charles than meets the eye and must fight tooth and nail to survive.
Looking back at the film now, it still holds some allure despite some clearly aged creature effects, and the moment when Charles transforms for the first time is a great counterweight to our first impressions of his character. Throw into the mix a blink and you’ll miss Ron Perlman as Captain Soames and horror maestros Clive Barker, Joe Dante, John Landis, Tobe Hooper and even King himself cropping up at notable points, and you’ve got a lot to get your teeth into. Oh and Mark Hamill also makes an uncredited appearance which brings a smile to this cinema lover’s face.
It is Krige however as mentioned who really comes to life as Mary and the lead antagonist of the film, with her incestous needs and devilish desires lights up every scene that she is in. For this, Sleepwalkers is well worth a revisit.
It’s been a couple of weeks now since Doctor Sleep hit cinemas and as the steam dissipates I’m left in a bit of a quandary. There seems to be some mixed reviews out there and some pushing into the negative which quite frankly stumped me as I thought it was a well composed and structured movie with plenty of heart and some strong characters for the audience to engage with. So why the backlash?
The answer to this is simple and it’s to do with that giant sized elephant in the room, which is called Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining. Without doubt this film was a masterpiece and helmed by one of the greatest directors ever. His vision was unique and his interpretation of Stephen King’s novel while not appreciated by the originator has been widely received by the horror community. Those who have read King’s novel though will know that it is vastly different from what was initially conceived and plays more like a man with a severe case of cabin fever and the supernatural elements are considerably downplayed. From my perspective I always loved both versions and viewed them as part of a parallel universe, where Kubrick splintered away from the source material and created a movie that looked at the kernel horror that humanity can display.
So when it was announced that Mike Flanagan was to direct a sequel to The Shining, he faced a conundrum. How would he place the film considering that there are two versions to draw inspiration from. It was a tough task, but he decided to amalgamate the two infused with a vision of his own. This was both masterful and his undoing for it would inevitably divide his audience from those devoted to Kubrick’s world and those eager to see new life in the much older Danny Torrance.
It feels to me that audiences have been clouded (by no fault of their own) by Kubrick’s vision and have neglected the source material in King’s novel, Doctor Sleep; a story that embodies the supernatural and belongs more in the sci-fi fantasy world than that of horror. As such, hardcore horror fans will be left wanting, but I believe Flanagan has been incredibly faithful to King’s tale and added a little Kubrick kink to harness these two worlds and the end result is highly engaging and captivating, proving that he is possibly the best craftsmen working in the industry today. Much like King, Flanagan knows how to spin a tale and in doing, allows the characters to really shine in the movie.
If there was one part that jarred with me, it was in the opening few scenes that painted a younger Danny with his mother (Not Shelley Duvall) in order to lay the foundations of how he suppressed his shining and keeps the ‘entities’ of the Overlook Hotel from feeding from his energy by containing them in boxes within his mind. The minor quibble is in that it is clearly different from the actors we connected with the story from Kubrick’s The Shining, but there is no real way around this without CGI technology to capture the original actors in the younger form. As I stated it’s a minor criticism, and its also necessary to set the scene. Once we move away from this we’re introduced to the characters proper – the older, washed out Danny (Ewan McGregor) who try as he might is destined to walk in his fathers’ footsteps and has succumbed to alcoholism. He eventually arrives at a small town in New Hampshire and settles down thanks to a new friend, Billy Freeman (Cliff Curtis) who also becomes his AA sponsor and helps him on his new path of sobriety, but in doing so, his shining becomes stronger.
We’re also introduced to some amazing characters in the True Knot (who deserve a spin off series in their own right) a collection of people who feed off the steam (energy) of those who shine. Possibly the most harrowing component from a viewers perspective is that they tend to hone in on children as their shine is stronger. The scene where they lure Bradley, (a kid who is travelling home from his baseball game) to his demise is particularly striking. Led by Rose The Hat (Rebbeca Ferguson), who is the strongest of the group and the lead antagonist in Danny’s epic and climactic confrontation. Other standouts from the group are Crow Daddy (Zahn McClarnon), who serves as the lead predator and a wise figure in the group, the elder Grandpa Flick (Carel Struycken), and their newest addition Snakebite Annie (Emily Alyn Lind) who has the ability to use hypnosis to lure her victims and deserved much longer screen time.
And finally there’s Abra (Kyleigh Curren), a girl with an incredibly strong shining and when her presence becomes known to the True Knot, she must seek help from Danny, whilst channeling her own powers.
The fact that both King and in return Flanagan pay so much time and dedication in building the background to these characters serves as Doctor Sleep’s masterstroke. We’re allowed to care for all of the characters and in doing so, fall deeper into the narrative and are driven to follow them on their journey to their conclusion.
Prognosis:
Flanagan is faced with a difficult task in infusing both King and Kubrick’s Shining worlds to create a highly-entertaining sequel. It is filled with the supernatural and characters that shine beyond the screen, whilst providing an engaging narrative with a more than satisfying conclusion.
There will be the doubters, but for this reviewer, Flanagan has created another little gem that proves that he is a masterful storyteller and possibly the best of our generation. I can’t wait to see which story he generates next as I will definitely be at the front of the queue.
Check out our podcast and further thoughts on Doctor Sleephere:
Surgeons of Horror 