A Revisit to ‘’Salem’s Lot’ Freshens Up an Early Stephen King Yarn
While very little of the novel’s social and religious commentary comes through, draining the film and its characters of context and depth, ‘’Salem’s Lot’ thrives when it delves into dark corners and foggy nights.
Stephen’s King’s second novel, “’Salem’s Lot,” is often cited as a favorite of the author’s, his fans, lovers of horror fiction, and even those disinclined to enjoy scary stories. The tale of an American town beset by vampires in the late 20th century speaks to several modern realities and anxieties, not least of which is the death of small towns. A testament to the book’s enduring admiration, three screen adaptations have been produced since its debut in 1975: as a TV miniseries in 1979 and 2004, and in a new movie having its premiere this week on Max (HBO).
The latest version of the novel definitely consolidates and excises the book’s many characters and subplots, yet in its own workaday horror movie way, it cleanly conjures up Mr. King’s frightening scenario, even reinventing it at times with brio and imagination. Its primary asset, beside hewing closely to the novel’s action, is its imagery, with director Gary Dauberman and cinematographer Michael Burgess making use of color, silhouettes, foreground/background juxtapositions, and more to maximize the story’s pictorial expressionism.
For those familiar with the narrative, the picture begins in media res with the delivery of the “dresser” to the Mardsen house, an abode long feared haunted but recently acquired by Kurt Barlow and Richard Straker, two Europeans who have moved to the village of Jerusalem’s Lot, also known as ’Salem’s Lot. Even those who have no acquaintance with the story or Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” will guess that the crate contains no chest of drawers but an evil force instead.
With the movie’s gist established, we’re then introduced to our protagonist, Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman), a writer returning to his childhood hometown. Other characters or composites from the novel appear as well, such as love interest Susan, school teacher Matt Burke, and tenacious adolescent Mark. The editing makes quick work of conveying the small-town setting of ‘Salem’s Lot through brief shots, and the screenplay moves swiftly and skillfully through the plot’s initial incidents: the disappearance of little Ralphie Glick, his brother Danny Glick’s death from “pernicious anemia,” and gravedigger Mike’s discombobulation.
Several tweaks to the material, such as its witty use of Gordon Lightfoot’s 1974 hit song “Sundown,” distinguish the new interpretation from Mr. King’s book and the popular 1979 two-part series. Unlike that Tobe Hooper-directed program, though, there’s no James Mason to deliver lines disturbingly dryly as Straker, or extended scenes of ambivalence and moody ambiance. Yet the cast, including Alfre Woodard as Dr. Cody, makes the most of their thin characterizations in what is essentially an amalgam of vampiric lore, “House on Haunted Hill,” and zombie flicks. Indeed, director and screenwriter Dauberman, who had a hand in writing the two recent “It” movies, seems to acknowledge how the premise doesn’t exactly pulse with “new blood” during a segment involving comic books.
Very little of the novel’s social and religious commentary comes through, draining the film and its characters of context and depth. But horror movies live or die, so to speak, on the atmosphere they create, and “’Salem’s Lot” thrives when it delves into dark corners and foggy nights. With the lighting and shadowplay so effective at points, one wishes the picture would pause long enough for us to really take in the creepiness before the next jump scare occurs.
Gore and violence pop up as well, but not so much that the middle-of-the-road tone and steady pace are thrown off. Curiously, as more and more characters are converted to vampirism, the movie’s ostensible star, Mr. Pullman (son of Bill Pullman), starts to play second fiddle to young actor Jordan Preston Carter’s more determined Mark. By the climax, which has been cleverly transposed to the town’s drive-in theater, the filmmakers have pulled off a neat trick: turning a somewhat hoary story into an old-fashioned yet inventive entertainment. Its bite marks are shallow but enough to satiate fans of horror and cinema alike.