The Mist

Abstract

[...]King has frequently produced some decidedly sub-standard fare, such as The Tommyknockers (1987), Bag of Bones (1998) and most of his more recent novels, which tend to spend 600 pages on character development only to have endings that cannot possibly live up to such interminably long build-ups. [...]Darabont's film manages to improve on his source material, by taking its bleak conclusion and expanding it to become what is possibly the best and most disturbing five minutes I've ever witnessed in a movie.

The Mist (Dir. Frank Darabont) USA 2007

Dimension Films

Stephen King is renowned for his prolific production of accessible, easy-to-read horror fiction. His early novels revolutionised the way in which the genre was perceived, helping horror novels make the leap from low rent, cheap paper-back publications to the profitable realms of mainstream fiction. As a reader, I have always had something of a love/hate relationship with King's work. On the one hand, the quality of his early novels cannot be denied. IT (1986) ruined clowns forme forever (but it was worth it) and Carrie (1974) made me eternally wary of the quiet girl in the class. On the other hand, King has frequently produced some decidedly sub-standard fare, such as The Tommyknockers (1987), Bag of Bones (1998) and most of his more recent novels, which tend to spend 600 pages on character development only to have endings that cannot possibly live up to such interminably long build-ups.

However, the one area of horror writing in which Stephen King consistently excels is short fiction, as seen in collections such as Night Shift (1978), Nightmares and Dreamscapes (1993) and, more recently, Everything 's Eventual (2002), all of which illustrate his skill at producing thought-provoking and effective horror in a few short pages. One of his best is 'The Mist', a truly disturbing tale of the end of the world originally included in the collection Skeleton Crew (1985), which haunted me for weeks after I first read it as an admittedly impressionable teenager. It has now been adapted as a feature film by Frank Darabont, who is no stranger to King's writing, having previously directed The Shaw shank Redemption (1994) and The Green Mile (1999).

I approached the film version of The Mist with some trepidation. Films based on King's novels and short stories have never really worked out well, generally suffering heavily from film producers' desire to make horror films 'audience friendly'. While movies such as Carrie (Dir. Brian de Palma, 1976) and The Shining (Dir. Stanley Kubrick, 1980) are renowned genre classics, poor King adaptations by far outweigh the good. The dreadful Lawnmower Man (Dir. Brett Leonard, 1992) is a prime offender: a minor short story about an encounter between a demonic gardener and man who loves his lawn was bizarrely turned into a rip-off of Flowers for Algernon', indeed, the only similarities between story and film are the title, and the fact that both involve a gruesome death involving a lawn mower. Most adaptations of King's work have been mediocre at best, then. However, like Mikael Häfström's 1408 (reviewed in the third issue), The Mist manages to buck this trend.

The Mist begins with a storm battering a small Maine town (King's favourite fictional setting) and wreaking some real havoc on the residents' homes. The film's protagonist David Drayton (an impressive turn from Thomas Jane) surveys the damage to his lakefront home, and, following a brief altercation with a neighbour, he and his young son go into town to buy supplies, leaving his wife behind in the house. As they leave, a mist begins to rise up across the lake and ominously drifts to shore. After watching army vehicles hurrying to a military base which lies above the lake, father and son arrive at the store and begin to stock up on groceries. By now, the rising mist has covered the town in an all-pervasive cloud. As the shoppers watch, an injured man staggers out of the mist and into the store, roaring at those watching to close the doors and yelling that something in the mist has attacked him.

From this point on, The Mist develops into átense, stomach-churning adventure tale, but one which deftly manages to personalise the horror by keeping the focus of the story on the people trapped in the store rather than on the creatures in the mist. The monsters instead act as a barrier separating the stunned townsfolk from their previously safe and comfortable lives, replaced now with an uncertain future. If King's novella had been written after 2001, the 9/11 interpretations would surely abound (as they did for his 2005 novel Cell which also featured a sudden apocalyptic calamity). Regardless, the decision to adapt the story for the screen at this juncture does seem particularly timely, and the film repeatedly taps into contemporary North American and global anxieties. King's original novella and Darabont's interpretation both lead the viewer to the conclusion that no matter what the external threat, humanity will always react in a primitive manner, resorting to violence and irrational religious impulses rather than employing logic and common sense. The true horror in The Mist comes when the people trapped in the store rapidly turn to religious extremism. In this, they are led by the insane Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden) a fundamentalist preacher who had previously been the town joke but whose Old Testament ways now seem much more appealing to the townspeople as they seek to find a way in which to deal with their plight. As the horror of the situation continues to unfold with no hope in sight, they eventually offer up a human sacrifice to the beasts in the mist. Only David and a few others maintain their rationality, and in doing so become the targets of fundamentalist anger and fear. This follows in the tradition of other post-apocalyptic films such as Day of the Dead (Dir. George A Romero, 1985) and post-nuclear drama The Day After (Dir. Nicholas Meyer, 1983) which depicted the events following a nuclear war. Indeed, it could be argued that The Mist provides a commentary on the current growth in religious rhetoric espoused by world leaders such as George W. Bush and Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in their reactions to similarly unseen and external threats: the bogeymen of terrorism and imperialism that function as their own beasts in the Mist.

Darabont's screenplay follows King's original novella almost to the letter, and his assured direction and focus upon character and atmosphere ably demonstrate that, in the hands of the right director and screenwriter, King's stories can be translated accurately and effectively to the screen. In fact, Darabont's film manages to improve on his source material, by taking its bleak conclusion and expanding it to become what is possibly the best and most disturbing five minutes I've ever witnessed in a movie. Furthermore, Thomas Jane does a great job of portraying a concerned father who has to confront an even greater threat than the tentacled beastie that lurks outside their safe haven. However, the film is stolen by Harden's portrayal of a religious fundamentalist who, following the collapse of conventional morals and thinking, has finally gained authority over those who once ridiculed her, and revels in exacting petty revenge in the face of a devastating, yet unseen, threat.

The Mist is a must-see for fans of Stephen King and the horror genre, providing both scares and psychological jumps that will have you thinking back on it for days after, much in the same way the novella did. Surprisingly, The Mist was a flop in the US, the tone of the film apparently not going down well with a home-grown audience. The bleak tone of the film may not have been what an American audience wanted at a time when their news media is filled with images of war and violence, instead preferring bland and predictable horror films such as the Prom Night remake (Dir. Nelson McCormick, 2008) and the umpteenth 'reimagining' of a Japanese horror films. However, The Mist is one of the most accomplished horror films released in the past decade, for, rather then relying on cheerleaders being stalked by guys in hockey masks, it suggests instead that the real monster might he behind the eyes of the person standing next to you in Tesco.

Rico Ramirez