This Town Met Darkness at A Party Once

Just got back from ‘Salem’s Lot.  Man, does my neck hurt.

Tons of fans, of the horror genre or of Stephen King in particular, have been chomping at the bit about TNT’s remake of ‘Salem’s Lot.  I’m not trying to be punny, honestly.  Controversy has been buzzing around this thing for some time, ever since Tobe Hooper directed the original mini-series in 1979.

“It wasn’t like the book.”  “The opening was stupid.”  “They did Barlow wrong!”  “David Soul sucks!”  “I wanna blankie!” “Waaaaah!”

Yeah, kinda cold of me.  Sorry.  My sympathy for fundamentalists or literalists is a little low.

Here’s why.  Books ain’t movies, movies ain’t books, and parts ain’t parts, no matter what people tell you.  Literature and cinema are fundamentally different media, each putting their own special demands on artist and audience alike.  They each have their own merits.  You can’t just dump filet mignon into a blender and call it the perfect milkshake.  When a book is adapted to film or vice versa, you have to cut the results some slack.  Expect change.  Otherwise you get junk.

I subjected you to that  li’l lecture, true believers, only to make clear where I’m coming from.  I’m familiar with the book and the ‘79 mini-series, but not loyal.  I didn’t go in with a lot of expectations.  Just one.  I wanted it to be good.

Folks have asked what I think of the TNT remake.  Here I am telling you.

The first half was fantastic.  It boiled down the best qualities of the original book, right down to the opening narration.  Scriptwriter Peter Ficardi should be commended.  The teaser is the only major deviation from the source—and a good one—establishing crisis and drawing us in from the start.  When we hit the titular town, taking in quick character sketches of the people and the place, it’s like a funeral pall laid out before us.  We’re told at the opening, “This town knows darkness.”  And it’s easy to believe.

My hopes were up. It was promising good things.  There was some atmosphere, a few genuine efforts to hit a little too close to home.  This wasn’t a safe, orderly little world where a great eeeevil colors outside the lines.

It was really cooking until the second half.  It kept falling short of greatness.  Suddenly we’re stiffed with Hollywoodisms:  token Scully moments, the undead on the march, out-of-character one-liners, sudden orchestra hits and high-speed smash-edits.  Cheap shocks.  Carnival tricks.  And just when we’re handed a perfect ending for this horror flick, a lame-ass heavy metal cover of “Paint It Black” intrudes on it.

Don’t ruin the tone, idiots!   Consistency may be the hobgoblin of little minds, but it’s not wishy-washy either.

Stupid.  Keep it simple, stupid.

I hate to say it, but I honestly don’t think director Mikael Salomon knew how to tackle horror at all.  I mean, look at this!  When asked what makes a movie scary, the one element he doesn’t mention is the story itself.

I’m sure someone will eventually try to hang me with my own words, but that’s what at the heart of every horror flick.  We need nightmares, not pranks.  We can get that stupid snake-in-the-candy-jar trick anywhere.  It doesn’t take a lot of skill to walk up behind someone and shout “Boo!”

And this version of ‘Salem’s Lot has been hamstrung by that very mistake, which was made repeatedly.  If it wasn’t for that, it’d have left us with chills long after the incredible shrinking end credits were done.

Sure, it’s fun.  No question.  Both adaptations have their moments.  But it could’ve been more.  It could’ve been memorable.