Film adaptations of Stephen King’s novels have run the gamut, from the excellent — Misery, Stand By Me, The Shawshank Redemption and Carrie — to the deplorable: Thinner, Cell, Lawnmower Man and many, many others.
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| With sundown rapidly approaching, the wary vampire hunters — from left, Susan (Makenzie Leigh), Ben (Lewis Pullman), Dr. Cody (Alfre Woodard), Mark (Jordan Preston Carter) and Father Callahan (John Benjamin Hickey) — contemplate how best to invade the dread Marsden House. |
“The movies didn’t change them a bit, son,” Cain replied, pointing to a shelf of books behind his desk. “They’re all right up there. Every word is the same as when I wrote them.”
Director/scripter Gary Dauberman’s respectful handling of King’s famed 1975 novel does pretty well, when it comes to fidelity. He includes almost all the central characters, hits most of the story’s key plot points, and deftly maintains the unnerving atmosphere King established so well, with the juxtaposition of quaintly bucolic, small-town Americana invaded by macabre, old-world Evil.
And when Dauberman does slide the story into different territory — notably during the third act — he does so cleverly; the climax is both ingenious, and suspensefully mounted with an assist from editor Luke Ciarrocchi.
That said, this film fails in another, equally important manner: overall pacing.
After taking time, during a leisurely first act, to introduce the key players and set up the looming threat, a fleeting second act rushes far too quickly into the aforementioned finale. King’s luxurious attention to detail — the nuances of sidebar characters, and their back-stories — are completely absent.
This is particularly egregious with respect to school teacher Matt Burke and local priest Father Callahan (although that’s getting ahead of things a bit).
The result is a jarring case of whiplash, as if great chunks of this film had been left on the cutting-room floor. Dauberman has admitted that his first cut ran three hours, which I suspect would have been preferable; director Tobe Hooper’s 1979 two-part TV miniseries, running 183 minutes, was — and remains — vastly superior.
The setting is 1975. Novelist Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman) has returned to his home town of Jerusalem’s Lot, Maine, after an absence of 25 years; his next project apparently concerns something that happened in “The Lot” back then, since he immediately hits the library’s microfilm newspaper archives. (An essential element of Ben’s childhood is sorely missed, in this adaptation.)
This story’s title, just in passing, results from the town name’s first four letters having worn off its highway “Welcome to” sign, leaving the more sinister remainder.
Ben meets cute with Susan Norton (Makenzie Leigh), and flirty sparks ignite immediately. But he’s surprised — and troubled — to learn that somebody has purchased and moved into the long-abandoned Depression-era Marsten house, which rests atop a hill, overlooking the town like a baleful predator.
The new owner is R.T. Straker (Pilou Asbæk), a cultured European immigrant who has opened an antique furniture store in The Lot. His apparent refinement notwithstanding, he may as well have the words “bad guy” tattooed on his forehead.
Elsewhere, Matt (Bill Camp) breaks up a schoolyard fight that concludes when plucky Mark Patrie (Jordan Preston Carter) bests a local bully; this also introduces Mark’s best friend Danny Glick (Nicholas Crovetti), and the latter’s younger brother, Ralphie (Cade Woodward).
Mark devours pop culture, with a particular emphasis on monster movies: knowledge that will serve him well, during what’s too come. Young Carter’s performance is sublime: a perfect blend of intelligence, compassion and (somewhat reckless) bravery.
Poor Ralphie doesn’t last very long, abruptly vanishing without a trace ... at least, as far as his family and the townsfolk are concerned. But we get to witness the little boy’s demise at the hands of Straker’s “partner,” Kurt Barlow (Alexander Ward), an ancient vampire. Straker actually is his “familiar.”
Dauberman and makeup department head Eleanor Sabaduquia followed the approach Hooper took, back in 1979, basing Barlow’s hideous appearance on that of the vampire in German director F.W. Murnau’s 1922 classic, Nosferatu. (King’s Barlow appeared human. Most of the time.)
Dauberman also retains one of the story’s creepiest moments, involving a late-night visitor outside Mark’s bedroom window; that sequence is equally shocking here.
Graveyard digger Mike Ryerson (Spencer Treat Clark), among the first bitten, “turns” slowly enough for Matt to be confronted by the results. He gathers Ben and Susan — now an item — and they subsequently have little trouble enlisting Dr. Cody (Alfre Woodard, sadly underused), after the four of them sit nighttime vigil over a body in the morgue.
This “Scooby gang” soon is augmented by Mark and Father Callahan (John Benjamin Hickey). The latter is on the verge of losing his faith ... and Hickey isn’t given anywhere near enough screen time, to help us understand this poor man’s history.
Popular lore — and numerous stories and movies — established the notion that vampires rise only after sundown. Hammer’s 1950s and ’60s Dracula films more precisely specified that they cannot stand sunlight, but are perfectly capable of moving about during daytime hours. King went with that notion, which Dauberman retains here; that makes the Marsten house’s dark basement a very dangerous place to visit.
Even so, one can’t help raising an eyebrow over the speed with which the sun sets, during this film’s climax.
Pullman and Leigh work well together, making Ben and Susan credible both as a newly smitten couple, and as reluctant vampire hunters. Camp also is spot-on as a school teacher horrified by what must be true, yet willing to go with it.
Mark simply — calmly — believes in vampires, and is pragmatically ready to deal with them. (If only it were that simple!)
Production designer Marc Fisichella nails the peaceful, small-town vibe, with three Massachusetts towns — Sterling, Ipswich and Clinton — standing in for The Lot. Nathan Barr and Lisbeth Scott maintain a sinister ambiance with their score, and (mostly) resist the impulse to goose jump-scares with shrieking crescendos.
Dauberman minimizes the gore; the really nasty stuff takes place off-camera (and in our imaginations).
All told, this Salem’s Lot is a modestly engaging handling of King’s novel ... but it would’ve been much better, had Dauberman taken a longer and more comprehensive approach.
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