Review: King on Screen
New documentary is an entertaining look at Stephen King cinema.
For a man renowned for his novel-writing, Stephen King may have made more of an impact on the movies than almost any other 20th century figure.
If you ask any horror film fan to name some of the most iconic scary movies, you’re invariably going to get The Shining, The Mist, Carrie, Cujo, Salem’s Lot and more. King’s works have been brought to the screen by revered directors including Stanley Kubrick, John Carpenter, Brian DePalma, Rob Reiner, Lawrence Kasdan and Frank Darabont. A mainstay at the very top of the IMDB Top 250 is The Shawshank Redemption, based, of course, on a beloved King short story and one of his non-horror tales. Hell, if you ask people about the worst movies they’ve seen, you could easily get a Children of the Corn sequel, Thinner or Lawnmower Man.
Ever since De Palma entranced audiences with Carrie in 1976 – boosting the sales of King’s first novel and ensuring his legacy as America’s favorite author – Stephen King and the big screen have been in conversation. King has written more than 60 novels, and I’ve seen estimates that say there are about 50 movies based on his works – although that list is no doubt higher when you consider remakes, sequels, TV shows, short films and miniseries. Many people’s first encounter with the author was through his movies; my kids are way, way too young for any of his books or movies, but even they’re aware of Pennywise.
The new documentary King on Screen attempts to tackle Stephen King’s cinematic contributions, and damn if it doesn’t touch on almost every single film made from the author’s works. A 110-minute collection of interviews with many of the directors of these adaptations, including Frank Darabont, Mick Garris and Mike Flanagan, it’s full of ruminations on why King’s stories translate so well to the big-screen, an examination of the themes that interest him, and a deep dive into several of the most-beloved movies.
The film starts, after a clever but ultimately pointless framing device aiming to connect all King’s work, with Carrie, as you might expect. But it’s not a chronological affair. Rather, the conversation is organized thematically, drifting into the various films when they intersect with the topic. Discussions about the author’s fascination with small-town America segue into talks about Salem’s Lot and It, while his takes on religion, politics and the military naturally lead to conversations about The Mist, The Stand and The Dead Zone. No King film is too small to get the treatment; we hear from the director of the largely detested Cell and from Josh Boone, who helmed the airless recent miniseries on The Stand. You might expect to hear a great deal about Kubrick’s version of The Shining – and you will – but it’s surprising how much time is spent on Flanagan’s sequel, Doctor Sleep, as well as the ABC miniseries that featured a screenplay by King (oddly enough, one film that doesn’t get mentioned is Stephen King’s sole directorial outing, Maximum Overdrive).
It’s a lot, probably too much for a film that doesn’t even flirt with two hours in length. And because so much ground is covered and so many subjects are involved, it necessarily can’t dig too deep. King’s Constant Readers have likely heard many of these stories before or made many of the same arguments – it’s not necessarily a novel idea that Kubrick’s The Shining is a good horror movie but a bad King adaptation. It’s brought up that King initially threw his first draft of Carrie in the garbage only for his wife to fish it out and that he considered not publishing Pet Sematary because it was just too dark…compelling tales for those new to King, but old hat for those of us who’ve been discussing him for years.
But the stories are told with enthusiasm and affection; these are not directors who took on a job just because it was available. They have a love for King’s work that is palpable throughout their interviews. Garris, Darabont and Flanagan are all trusted collaborators who have helmed multiple King collaborations – and in the case of Darabont and Flanagan, some of the very best. They talk about their friendships with King and the trust he has in them. Flanagan’s story of selling King on the idea of revisiting Kubrick’s Overlook for Doctor Sleep – when King famously hated the Kubrick Shining – is a fun one, as are the digressions Darabont takes to praise Tom Hanks’ work ethic for The Green Mile.
I’m assuming director Daphne Baiwir was unable to secure the participation of De Palma, John Carpenter, David Cronenberg or Rob Reiner, and that’s a shame – although Carrie, Christine, The Dead Zone, Stand By Me and Misery are name-checked, they’re all worthy of deeper dives. But those films have also been talked about endlessly, and it gives the film time to delve into the religious text of Children of the Corn and for Frank Darabont to talk not just about Shawshank and The Mist, but also go on at length about the work of Michael Clarke Duncan in The Green Mile. There are a few on-the-set clips of King, and I would have appreciated hearing his take on some of these movies (that’s outside the tact this documentary takes…although, again, you could have easily had him in for Maximum Overdrive). . . but it also gives some time to lesser-known works like the TV movies for Rose Red and Storm of the Century.
Yes, the documentary is best as a primer for those just delving into King and it can’t go as deep as fans likely want. But the enthusiasm is so palpable that, honestly, it didn’t put me off the movie; I just wanted more. I easily would have watched a series that went decade-by-decade through King’s screen adaptations, with commentary not just from the directors but the writers, stars and fans who have followed him for years (but then again, that’s why we have podcasts like “The Kingcast” and “The Losers’ Club”).
What struck me most as this ended was how this documentary would have likely been unthinkable in the ‘80s or ‘90s. It wasn’t just because we didn’t have nearly as many King adaptations but because, when I was growing up, Stephen King wasn’t really discussed seriously by literature or film critics. He was, it was thought, the writer of crass horror stories who got off on shoving blood and guts in his readers’ faces.
I’m so glad that the consensus on King seems to have changed and he’s ascended to a place as a respected writer and pop culture mainstay. Critics have come around on his works, both in print, where he’s become respected for his characterization, plotting and versatility, and in film, where films based on his works have received critical praise and awards notice.
And he’s still probably my favorite author. Each year, my Goodreads feed is filled with numerous King books. About two years ago, even though I’m not a fantasy person, I started reading The Dark Tower series; I just started the fifth book a few weeks back, and I absolutely adore it. He’s still cranking out great books – Revival, Later, Billy Summers and Fairy Tale are all different approaches for him (only the first two are horror films) and all four are fantastic reads (Revival might have his bleakest ending yet. And even while I’m a Constant Reader, there are still at least a dozen of his books I still need to get around to – and probably more film adaptations.
Next week, we start the Halloween season. And, once again, I’m going to spend much of October delving into unseen (by me) Stephen King adaptations. It’s tempting to want to go back and rewatch the classics, and maybe one year I will (my Franchise Friday in October will include one King masterpiece). But right now, I want to go with some lesser-known (and, in some cases, lesser-loved) takes. I can’t wait. But first, this Friday, I’ll have a piece on two of his most beloved films, and how they serve as flip sides to each other.
King on Screen is available to rent or purchase on most digital platforms.