Netflix Review – 1922 (2017)

In the pantheon of fictional horror, there exists no name as preeminently respected as the great Stephen King. The sight of King’s name plastered across the cover of a book is enough in and of itself to send chills coursing through any well-read horror fan. In general, his work also translates fairly well to the silver screen. When pondering King’s most noteworthy theatrical offerings, one immediately thinks of such gems as The Shining (1980), Misery (1986), and The Shawshank Redemption (1994). His writing doesn’t always result in cinematic gold, but when placed in the hands of the right filmmaker, it’s been illustrated time and again that his stories prove compelling in film form.

Having never read the 2010 novella that was adapted into the Netflix original film in question here today, I cannot speak directly to the quality of King’s piece. With that said, it feels like the content of the story itself was stretched rather thin in writer/director Zak Hilditch‘s efforts to expand King’s short work into a feature length movie.

1922 commences with a searing opening act that takes full advantage of some beautiful cinematography to help manufacture a mood that is simultaneously gripping and thoroughly unnerving. It is in these moments that we are introduced to our central character, Wilf James (Thomas Jane), a hard-working Nebraskan farmer living with his wife, Arlette, and their teenage son, Henry, on land that was owned by his late father-in-law, and therefore technically now belongs to Arlette herself.  When she concludes that she wants to sell the plot of land and move the family to Omaha, an irreparable rift forms in their marriage that ultimately results in Wilf choosing to do the unthinkable. He concocts a sinister plan to murder his wife in order to keep the farm, and he manipulates his son into helping him do it.

At this point in the narrative, the conflict facing our characters is obvious, and the story has been set on its course with propulsive momentum. I was anticipating the movie to maintain the urgency and purpose with which it began throughout its run time. Unfortunately, 1922 grinds to a screeching halt following its genuinely riveting first half hour, and the remainder of the film proves decided less effective.

The most pertinent issue that 1922 possesses, particularly in its second act, is the manner in which it spurns meaningful narrative and character development in favour of meandering mood-building that does a swell job of making things creepy, but fails to actually propel the plot forward or provide depth to our protagonists. Watching rats burrow their way through the wallpaper is an ittedly unsettling image, but it’s not enough on its own to sustain a full-length film.

Additionally, the filmmakers committed to a very slow, methodical pace for 1922. This was initially rather engrossing, but as the proceedings carried on it grew more and more tiresome, to the point where the film becomes somewhat boring at times. This relates directly to the script’s lack of activity in its later sections. When nothing is happening and it’s happening at an extremely leisurely pace, that’s a recipe for a movie to put its audience to sleep.

While I it I have been rather hard on 1922, I don’t mean to suggest that the film is an abject failure. There is a lot to like about it despite its many flaws. For instance, Ben Richardson‘s aforementioned cinematography is truly impressive; the movie is strikingly photographed, and one gets the sense that each frame was carefully prepared and executed precisely as the filmmakers intended. Furthermore, the performances by the cast are all quite strong, headlined by a sweltering turn from Thomas Jane in the menacing lead role. Jane imbues his character with an intensity that makes it hard to take your eyes off of him. He is done no favours by a screenplay that often leaves him with little of consequence to do, but he stands out nonetheless.

All in all, 1922 is certainly not one of the finest Stephen King adaptations. It runs out of gas long before it reaches the finish line, and that could conceivably be attributed to the fact that it is a feature film drawing inspiration from a short story. It makes for a rocky viewing experience that should only be sought after by King diehards and those who don’t mind a slow burn. Like really slow burn.

Crime, Horror, Drama | USA, 2017 | Netflix Originals | Dir. Zak Hilditch | Thomas Jane, Molly Parker, Dylan Schmid