Showing posts with label Dollar Babies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dollar Babies. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

The Dollar Deal: One for the Road

Welcome back to We Who Watch Behind the Rows, and welcome to the first ever installment of The Dollar Deal, where I interview filmmakers about their experiences and ambitions in making short films based on Stephen King's work. For the first installment, I'll be talking with Pennsylvania based writer/director Joseph Horning. On an editorial note, I do want to make it clear that this is not a sponsored piece, we have no connection to the film being made, and this shouldn't even be read as a suggestion to go and donate. I find the project interesting, and I thought the readers of this site would feel the same way. This piece, and potential series of pieces, is meant to be a spotlight on the ever-growing world of Dollar Babies, and the people behind them.

Joseph Horning has worked steadily in the Pennsylvania film community for the past ten years as a producer, writer, director, and sometime actor. In 2016 he joined up with Curtis K Case and formed CKC Quarterly Productions in order to produce the screenplay for Where Is My Golden Arm, and the web-series Siblings. His latest project, another CKC Quarterly Productions venture, is a Dollar Baby adaptation of One for the Road, the 'Salem's Lot-related story that appears in Stephen King's Night Shift short story collection. The film is in the crowdfunding phase at the moment, and you can watch the Indiegogo trailer and then read the interview below.







Aaron Lowe: In keeping with the theme of this blog and your project, I'd like to start by hearing your history with Stephen King. How did you first come across him as an author.

Joseph Horning: Growing up I had a vague idea of who Stephen King was. I had seen bits and pieces of the films adapted from his novels over the years but was never that interested in his work until I heard about the mini-series for IT. There was something about the idea of a clown that could change itself into any childhood fear that struck a chord with me. Now, I was never much of a reader when I was a kid, I had to be forced into reading books for school, but for some reason I wanted to read IT before the mini-series premiered. It was the first time I ever felt compelled to actually pick up a book and read for fun. I remember my mom saying “You’ll never finish that book” and she was right. The first time I tried to read IT I ended up putting it down half-way through the first chapter. I don’t think I was really ready for the world of Stephen King at that time, especially with how descriptive he can be and how massive that book is.

The first book I completely read of his was Cujo. Since then I’ve read nearly every novel he’s written and credit him for my love of books and writing.

AL: We must be around the same age, because that's remarkably similar to my introduction to Stephen King's works. I imagine all those miniseries in the '90s brought a lot of people into the Constant Reader fold. I was an avid reader at that age, so the only thing my mom said when she saw me reading IT was that one of her coworkers had been too scared to finish the novel. It had the reverse effect on me, inspiring a lifetime of awe and wonder at the macabre and spooky. You establish your King bona fides pretty clearly in your Indiegogo video. Out of all of the available Dollar Baby titles, what drew you to One for the Road?


One for the Road teaser poster
JH: Well out of all of them it seemed like the most fun to do. I’ve always loved vampire stories and ‘Salem’s Lot was one of those films that terrified me as a newfound lover of Stephen King. I obviously saw the mini-series before reading the book so it left an impression on me, specifically with the portrayal of Barlow and the other vampires. I know that Barlow is a subject for debate amongst fans and that Rutger Hauer’s performance in the remake is much more faithful to the novel than Reggie Nalder’s, but you can’t deny that his appearance is downright scary! It felt like gothic horror in New England, the kind that H.P. Lovecraft use to write.

One for the Road was an extension of this feeling of dread but it’s more than that. Reading it gave me this sense of feeling isolated, not just because of its setting during a snowstorm, but because of what each character was going though in the moment. Gerard was alone in his quest to find help from Tookey and Booth and when they finally do decide to help him, he’s treated like an outsider as most people from out of state are. Tookey and Booth are best friends and you get the story through Booth’s point of view but even though he’s in the story helping Tookey and Gerard, he really isn’t. He’s alone somewhere, maybe in his bed dreaming, reliving that night over again. As King is fond of doing in most of his stories, the theme that “hell is repetition” plays out well here.

It’s just an all-around great horror story that’s short but packs a punch.

AL: We're still working our way through the stories in Night Shift here at We Who Watch, and one thing keeps coming up is how amazingly succinct Stephen King could be. He's known for his longer works and the epic length of some of his novels, but his short stories can pack quite a wallop at only a dozen or so pages long.

I was surprised at the level of ambition I saw in your plans for this short film, shooting in Centralia, harness rigs for the flying effects, prosthetic makeup, are there any aspects that you're nervous about? Any that you're particularly excited about tackling?

JH: Anyone who has an investment in the making of a film, whether it’s the writer, director, producer or actors are all excited and nervous at the same time. Anyone who’s said they never felt any trepidation making a film is either lying or has never made one before. It’s a scary process because you go into this thing with an idea of how you want your film to look and sometimes it comes out looking much different than how you envisioned it. That’s not always a bad thing. Sometimes it ends up being better than you could’ve hoped; other times not so much. That’s what I’m most nervous about – the final result of the film. That all comes down to me, though. I’m critical of everything I create so even if it’s good I’m always saying, “Yeah but it would be better if we had done this.”

I’m very confident in the team I’m putting together to make One for the Road. When I first sat down with my producer Chris Wagler to discuss locations, sets and special effects my initial thought was that the only way we’d achieve any sort of stunts with levitation would be in front of a green screen. The concern I had with that was matching the exterior lighting at night in a studio. If we had a big enough budget we could do it using the same technique they used in ‘Salem’s Lot by sitting the actors on a chair connected to a boom. We probably still could. Chris assuaged my concerns by telling me he could easily build a rig with a harness to lift the actresses off the ground. It’s a pretty simple idea that will have a big payoff at the end of the film if it works.

I’ve seen other adaptations where the vampires just move through the scene normally like we do. In King’s story for One for the Road Janey is described as drifting out of the woods towards Gerard like a ghost. Now you can interpret that any way you want but to me it conjures up an image of her floating on air, the tip of her shoe just brushing the top of the snow. That to me is a frightening image and one that would definitely make our film standout from others. That’s what I’m excited to see.

The whole pre-production process is nerve-racking. I just can’t wait to finalize our cast and move forward on production.

AL: From the glimpses you've shown so far, you seem to be expanding the short story quite a bit, from apparent larger roles for the wife and daughter characters, to more explicit ties to the 1979 Tobe Hooper film. Are you using the story more as a jumping off point, or will this be a fairly faithful adaptation?

JH: I tried to stay as faithful to the original story as possible though I’ve made some changes, specifically in expanding the Lumley families journey to Maine and the circumstances that leave them stranded in ‘Salem’s Lot. Anyone who’s read the story knows that it takes place in the middle of winter during a violent snowstorm that cripples most of the state. Gerard Lumley and his family get stranded in the snow after making a wrong turn and he has to trudge through the freezing cold to find help from Tookey and Booth who are shutting down Tookey’s Bar for the night.

C. Augustus Garfield, Joseph Horning, Chris Wegler
 at casting sessions for
One for the Road
This is where King’s story for One for the Road starts, as Gerard comes barreling through the door. What I decided after reading the story was that if it were adapted to a film of any length, the audience would only be shocked by what they see transpiring on screen. They wouldn’t feel any remorse for the Lumley’s, except perhaps Gerard. I wanted people who watch this film to have an emotional response to what happens to Janey and Francie Lumley, so I took what Gerard said in the story about them coming to Maine to visit relatives and added on scenes showing the family together in the car. I wanted there to be an emotional investment so that when the final horror unfolds we’re not only shocked but feel sorry for what they go through.

The other change is as I said with the circumstances leading up to how they get stranded in ‘Salem’s Lot. I explained in my Indiegogo campaign video that we’ve taken liberties with the story since it does take place in the middle of a snowstorm and we can’t just make snow appear out of nowhere. We are going to shoot in the winter but there is no guarantee that there will be snow on the ground. The weather in Pennsylvania can be temperamental. One day it’s 34 degrees and the next it’s in the sixties. So we came up with an alternative to the car getting stuck in the snow. I’m not going to reveal what that is but it’s simple and effective. It also allows me to feature a vampire that hasn’t been seen since the 1979 ‘Salem’s Lot mini-series which will be the connector to that film.

AL: How did you get into filmmaking? What inspirations pointed you towards writing and directing?

JH: It all goes back to IT. Well, partly. IT was the deciding factor in why I chose to work in films but I’ll get to that in a minute.

When I was younger I always wanted to be a comic book artist. It’s what I loved to do more than anything. One summer when I was 11 or 12 the high school in my hometown began hosting a Summer Consortium for local kids who were into art, theater, writing and photography. I was enrolled for the art courses but I had to also pick a second course in order to attend. I reluctantly chose photography. It was one of the best decisions I ever made. The teacher I had during that and subsequent summers was Mr. John Doyle. He opened my eyes to how the world looked through a lens, but more importantly he introduced me to the art of filmmaking. We weren’t just there to take photos; we were also going to shoot a short movie. That excited me for some reason and I just jumped right in and started throwing out ideas for us to shoot. Until that point I never really thought of myself as a storyteller, just an artist. But I guess you could say I had to be a little of both. Each character I created had a unique backstory so the impetus of what would become my love of screenwriting was already present.

The first movie I ever made was this ridiculous murder mystery that took place at the school and the following year we made a horror movie called Death Be Not Proud. I didn’t write that one, I starred in it. It was fun but I never felt comfortable being on camera. I still don’t.

What really cemented me into wanting to make films was IT. I loved the mini-series when it first came out but after I read the novel I just started asking myself what the filmmakers were thinking. Yes it was a decent adaptation but the heart and horror of the book just wasn’t there. I decided that it was my duty to re-write the film and make a more faithful adaptation, complete with all of the terrifying scenes that kept me up at night. I started writing in the summer of 1992 without any idea on how a script was structured and I think by that winter I had this amalgamation of novel slash script that was bigger than the actual source material. I still have it lying around in a drawer as a reminder of where I started and how bad I was.

The more I studied that better I got but I never would be where I am today if it wasn’t for Mr. Doyle’s photography class and my desire to see IT made into a purely terrifying film.

AL: I still love a lot about the previous IT adaptation, but agree it's basically half of a great film. Definitely for what it was, a television movie in 1990, it's pretty much the best anyone could have hoped for. That's funny that you wrote a script for your own version of that film, because one of the first things I remember writing was a short script for a sequel to The Blob in 6th grade. Probably because that first film ends with the blob just dropped into Alaska, where I was born. I never had much talent as an illustrator, but I got so far as making a bunch of index cards with scene illustrations on one side and the actual text on the back. Unfortunately that material has been lost to the ages, but it's a great way to practice your craft; to basically reverse engineer the things you love and home in on what you love about them. Speaking of which...

Your previous short film, The Field Across the Way, carried some real Tales from the Darkside vibes, particularly in the opening titles which gave me flashbacks to the sheer terror that television show's credits used to instill in me. It's listed as Episode 1 of The Forest of Darkness, do you have plans to continue that series?

JH: First off, thank you for getting the reference. Tales from the Darkside was one of my inspirations behind the opening sequence as well as the overall tone of the film. The other was The Twilight Zone. I originally wrote the script sometime around 2006 and just envisioned The Field Across the Way as a short film. A few years later my friend C. Augustus Garfield and I developed an idea for a web-based anthology series similar in style to shows like Tales from the Darkside but based off of local legends in Pennsylvania. We did our research and came up with dozens of stories that we planned to shoot over the course of a year. Even though it was loosely based on an old Nova Scotia myth about the forerunner of death, the first one we decided to shoot was The Field Across the Way since it was already written. I wrote half a dozen more scripts since then, and we got as far as shooting another film called Midnight Coffee, however equipment and location issues made it difficult to complete the second episode. Our hope is to resurrect the idea of the web-series after we complete One for the Road.



AL: Most of your work so far has fallen within the horror genre. Would you like to consider yourself a horror filmmaker, or is that a label you might be wary of accepting?

JH: I love all different genres, it’s just that horror and thrillers are the ones I gravitate to the most and I have no problem with being labeled a horror filmmaker. However screenwriting is my real passion. The first script I wrote that I was ever truly proud of was called Darkness on the Edge of Town. It’s a psychological thriller similar to Silence of the Lambs and Seven about a flawed FBI agent hunting down a serial killer in Philadelphia. Darkness won me my first ever screenwriting award in 2012 from the Philadelphia Film Office. Since then I’ve won the LA Screenplay Festival in 2015 and was a top 20 finalist in the Screenplay Replay Competition and Fourth Quarter Finalist in the Breaking Walls Thriller Screenplay Competition.


Curtis K Case of CKC Productions
Over the last few years I’ve written some feature-length dramatic scripts with my friend Jonathan Cross and we actually moved ahead with production on one of them called The Trainer. Unfortunately, scheduling conflicts and budget issues caused production to stop early on and we never got the chance to finish the film. I’ve also dabbled in action/spy films with my friend Andrey Nikiforov, another filmmaker from Philadelphia. Our first collaboration was called An Unusual Request and since then have worked on three other scripts.

Most recently my business partner Curtis K Case and I developed a dramatic comedy web-series that was shot in LA called Siblings. The show focuses on an African-American family who gathers at their brother’s house on the night of his big interview with the Washington Post. He’s running for mayor and wants to bolster his image and numbers in the polls by giving his constituents a glimpse into his personal life; however things don’t turn out like he plans when his siblings arrive and prove to be completely different than they were growing up together.


So far Siblings has been making the festival circuit and has won a few awards out in California. We’re launching the series on Labor Day and hope to start working on season two shortly.



Curtis and I also co-wrote a horror script based on the old Mark Twain jump story, The Golden Arm. That has gone on to be semi-finalist in two competitions last year. I’ve also collaborated with my friend J.P. Hoffman who is a horror filmmaker that’s had some success with shorts he’s produced for Eli Roth’s Crypt TV. We’re in the process of developing original content to present to them for future film projects which I’m excited about!

AL: Finally, if budget was no concern, what would your dream Stephen King adaptation be?

JH: Well, since IT and The Dark Tower are already hitting theaters I’d have to say I’d love a crack at Insomnia or maybe even Eyes of the Dragon. Both are connecting novels in the Dark Tower series so it would be great to expand upon that cinematic universe. Insomnia definitely wins out though since it takes us back to Derry, Maine, home of the Losers Club where Mike Hanlon is still librarian, the place where I fell in love with Stephen King and where “things that disappear into the sewer system have a way – an often unpleasant one – of turning up.”




I would like to once again thank Joseph Horning for taking the time out of his schedule to answer all of my questions. If you would like to look into One for the Road further, or possibly donate to his campaign, you can follow the link below. I myself will be following the project closely. And of course I'd like to thank you for stopping by, and I hope to see you again soon.


Friday, August 26, 2016

The Woman in the Room [Pt. 2]

Aaron: Welcome back to We Who Watch Behind the Rows, and our discussion of The Woman in the Room. This time we delve into the 1983 short film based on that story, adapted by one Frank Darabont. The film is available on YouTube in its entirety, in two separate videos. Both of those videos are embedded below for your convenience:






The Woman in the Room (1983)
Written and directed by Frank Darabont

VHS Cover
Aaron: Stephen King started making deals with student filmmakers allowing them to adapt his shorter works in 1977, which means Frank Darabont is a few years away from being the first official Dollar Baby, although he is part of what we can consider the first wave, and he’s definitely the most successful graduate of that program. To hear Darabont himself tell it, though, he was unaware of King’s policy when, as a twenty-year-old with no movie industry experience, working various odd jobs, he wrote King a letter asking if he could make a short film based on The Woman in the Room. Three years later, the film was released, and was successful enough that Darabont submitted it for consideration at the Academy Awards (it did not get nominated, but was reportedly on the short list). It was also one of the very few Dollar Babies to be officially released on a home video format, and no less an authority than King called it “clearly the best of the short films” made from his work.

Time will tell if it actually is the best (and certainly there was a much less crowded field of competition for that title in 1983), but one thing is certain: Darabont’s film is the most professional Dollar Baby we’ve watched so far, and it’s easy to see why it was given a VHS release in the ‘80s. Even if it’s not the type of thing I’m normally drawn to, and not something I see myself returning to time and again, I can appreciate the skill that went into making this film on a minuscule budget, with very little experience. The film could easily stand alongside more professional releases from that same time period. I kept thinking back to the nonexistent Stephen King television series you speculated about in our Night Surf piece. The Woman in the Room is the best argument I’ve seen so far for an anthology series based on King’s work, a series that would allow aspiring and established filmmakers adapt the stories to their own strengths, as Darabont has clearly done here.

I said in the first part of the discussion that I don’t find King to be a very emotional writer. Certainly he gets us invested in his characters so that we feel concern for their outcomes, but I’ve never been really moved by his love stories or his more intimate moments. That was clearly not the case for The Woman in the Room, which is the most nakedly, affectingly emotional King has ever been. It makes sense, then, that Darabont would be drawn to this story for his first film. Darabont has, through his three feature length King adaptations, proven that he is at least as concerned in the emotional subtext of the source material as he is in the more fantastic elements on display. The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile are melodramatic and heartwarming in a way that King films don’t normally attempt (though to be fair, those elements are present in the original stories as well), to the point that many people don’t actually realize King had a hand in writing them. Even Darabont’s adaptation of The Mist added a gut punch of grief to the gory bleakness of King’s original novella, so there is a very clear through-line in the stories that Darabont has adapted, and the elements to which he seems drawn.

Rik: And if they ever did make that Stephen King anthology show, how about Frank Darabont direct every single episode? Look, Darabont clearly gets King. A few directors have done a great job of adapting King to the big screen, but there have been far more misses than hits as far as quality overall, and even more misses as far as capturing what was so entrancing on the written page in the first place. But Darabont has yet to really make a misstep, even if I am not quite so enamored with The Green Mile as many people are. (The film is still pretty good, I just didn’t connect with King’s story either at the time. But that was one of those rare spots in the late ‘90s where I sneaked back in for a peak at King’s writing, and then slipped back out because what I found was lacking.) There is a clear artistic connection between the two that I am surprised hasn’t been developed even further than it has.

I know that, just between ourselves, I displayed some reticence in tackling the Dollar Baby films at first; in fact, we both wrestled over it. It was mostly because finding a lot of the films is really hard, if not downright impossible in many cases. And then there is the quality factor. It is one thing to criticize a bigger budget, Hollywood feature film adaptation of a King story that has been produced by a professional crew and actors, with the intent of global distribution in theatres and on home video or on television. Those things are fair game for critics and the public alike to rip apart or praise as they see fit. Once art is in the public eye, have at it. But Dollar Babies are student films, and while, as art, they should be prone to the same critical measures as anything else, you really don’t want to pound someone too hard who made a ten minute film for about $127 with amateur actors and his best friend Andy holding a rented boom mike with shaky hands. You don’t want want to shatter the dreams of the next Spielberg (unless, of course, you would prefer that you did) with a blistering review of a short he created simply to pass his film studies class.

Then we knuckled down and watched the five films we could locate for our piece on Night Surf, and I was fairly astounded by the wide variety of stances based on the same exact material. None of them were great, most of them were wildly off the mark as far as I was concerned, but a couple were fairly entertaining, and all of them (even the worst) seemed to capture at least a little snippet of the original story – whether in mood or fully captured scene – within their generally clumsy attempts at adapting a major writer to the screen on the cheap. While there were a couple of versions that I never wish to revisit again (at least, not in the low quality scrubs available on YouTube or elsewhere), I found the experience enlightening overall.

Frank Darabont
Enter Frank Darabont and his version of The Woman in the Room. Aaron, I am sure you’ve done a bit more research into the background of the making of this film than I have. From its very first frame, The Woman in the Room shows a higher degree of craftsmanship than the Dollar Babies we have watched thus far, and even if it is still a student short, the feel of the film at least approaches the standard look of television programming at the time of its release (1983). Frankly, it almost looks good enough that one could convince me that it was an episode of the 1985 revival of The Twilight Zone, that ran on CBS for a few years in that decade. However, I had only seen this one a long time ago on video, and apart from remembering that I had seen it at some point, had rather forgotten that it was actually pretty well done. What about you? 

Aaron: One quick clarification: This was not technically a student film, this was an independently produced short film from someone who would go on to become a highly successful director and screenwriter. A minor distinction, considering Darabont’s youth and means at the time, but an important one. Frank Darabont made this film without the benefit of school backing, meaning he had to scrounge together the money to get it made, and he spent several years filming it on borrowed or rented equipment, editing it himself in his bedroom. For Darabont, who had not yet had a job in the film industry when he began the project, this was more than just a means to a passing college grade, this was his shot to prove himself, and to adapt an author who clearly meant a lot to him. I want to make the distinction because I mostly agree with you; I think this is at least as good as a lot of the stuff that made it into The Twilight Zone remake, and surpasses the quality of many of the other anthology shows of the time, like Tales from the Darkside.

Each of the Dollar Babies we’ve seen so far has shown, at the very least, glimpses of talent. The Woman in the Room is the first one to show equal amounts of skill, passion, and an innate understanding of the source material. That understanding doesn’t mean the source material went untouched, of course, as The Woman in the Room makes a few excisions, and one major addition, to the story it was based on. Frankly, I’m OK with that. I’ve never been one of those people who negatively compares a filmed entertainment to its written origins because of what it changes or omits. I want a movie to change things around a bit, otherwise, what’s the point? I know we criticized some of the Night Surf shorts for the way they seemed to miss the point of the original story, or for how far afield they strayed from the events as written, but there is a difference here. A work of art has to have some resonance to the artist, or there will be no resonance for the audience. When it came to some of the Night Surf shorts I had trouble understanding, through their alterations, why they chose to adapt that particular story. I didn’t get the impression, even from the best of the bunch, that the story held any real significance to the filmmakers. With Darabont, on the other hand, it’s blindingly obvious that the story struck a chord in him, that it has some special meaning. Why else would he choose to adapt Stephen King, and then stay away from the monsters, the gore, or the spookiness?

Brian Libby as The Prisoner
The biggest change Darabont makes is with the addition of a character known only as Prisoner (played by Brian Libby, a prolific character actor who has had small roles in each of Darabont’s King adaptations). In the short film, John (Michael Cornelison) is a lawyer, and we see a short scene where he consults with his client, who is on death row, and asks him conversationally about what it’s like to kill a person. This character, a grizzled Vietnam vet who channeled his experience of the atrocity of the war into a career as a hitman once he got back home, seems like a character type King himself might have written. The scene itself is probably a bit too on the nose, as Brian Libby’s every line of dialogue is meant to subconsciously reverberate with the decision John has to make. It’s so directly addressing him that the character never feels like a real character, but instead feels like a totem, an oracle that John needs to hear from. But of course, that’s exactly what he’s meant to be in this story, and both actors (who would were in the midst of, or the beginnings of, healthy careers) are good enough to sell the scene.

Rik, I feel like this scene is the most obvious focal point for most discussions based around the short story and the short film. How did it sit with you?

Rik: It’s funny, you mention that both actors were in the midst of or at the beginnings of healthy careers, but when I watched The Woman in the Room again, I couldn’t place either actor at all and had to look them up. Sure enough, they have been acting a long time, and Cornelison has had a lot of stage success. But I could probably only pick Libby out of a police lineup and that is just because he is large and imposing. When I look at their credits, it turns out that I have seen a lot of their films and television shows, but it’s for a lot of parts like “Perimeter Guy” and “Employee #1” and “Embalmer”; even in films that I remember seeing, I cannot remember who they were.

And this is not to say that they are not both very good in their roles in this short. They do a fine job, and I have to say Libby is particularly appealing in his part as the convict. I agree with you: I don’t mind when a director or a screenwriter veers from the original work being adapted as long as the divergence adds something to the story that adds what you termed resonance to the work at hand. I think we both agree that it was what was so frustrating about the Night Surf shorts. They each took a different tack with the same material, but all of the shorts, even the barely best ones, really missed the point of the material, missed the painful, nostalgic soul at the center, the dying of the light, the slowly vanishing heartbeat of humanity. When I saw that this film was a half hour, I was really wondering just how Darabont would be able to carry what is rather slight material that far. Certainly it would be hard to make a feature film out of this story without greatly expanding it by giving both the son and the mother full backstories. And maybe Darabont felt that summing the slim story up in just fifteen minutes was just too brief a visit with these characters, like maybe to feel the real punch in the gut of the situation he had to draw it out at least a little bit. So maybe that is part of why he felt he needed to stretch it out and add an extra scene. But I really like the extra scene he did add.

I like the familiarity between the client and the lawyer. There is certainly a level of trust that has been established, the light smiles in jokes about courtroom attire that are easily accepted between the two, and there is a definite air of relaxation in even the lighting of a cigarette that signifies these two have spent a good deal of time together. Even when the Prisoner gets riled up about something, he is able to be defused by a steady gaze or a smirk. I enjoyed their interplay, and it would be interesting to see if these two would ever be friends “on the outside,” as it were. (Of course, he is telling the lawyer the story of how he killed a buddy of his, a guy who saved his life at one point in Vietnam, so you may not want to know him on the outside.) 

Michael Cornelison as John
When they do get to the meat of that discussion, about whether killing someone ever meant anything to the Prisoner, I feel like the relationship between the two characters serves to make the scene perhaps not quite as maudlin as it might have been in lesser hands, even hands as inexperienced as Darabont’s at that age. You say it is perhaps too on the nose; I agree, yes, but it does allow us to see another side of John that we otherwise would either not have gotten to see (we get to understand, in short order, both his professionalism and his basic humanity in one scene) without perhaps plunging into a series of all too obvious flashback sequences. And as such, I think it is a wise addition to the story.

Aaron: Although I do find the Prisoner scene a bit too obvious, that’s not as much of a complaint here as it would be in, as you say, lesser hands. Because you’re right; Frank Darabont “gets” Stephen King, but more than that, he also “gets” the mechanics of storytelling in much the same way that King does. The Prisoner sequence is essential in this story as Darabont tells it, because it humanizes Johnny and addresses his dilemma directly without having him break into tears and wail that he doesn’t want to kill his mother. It’s also, as you point out, important to get an outsider’s look at this character, to show us something outside of Johnny’s own head or perceptions. And it is, admittedly, entertainingly written. Much more gratifying than a series of generic flashbacks.

Stephen King’s short story is largely plotless, achronological, and full of impressions rather than concrete incident. That sort would be impossible to translate to film, unless you wanted to make an avant-garde, experimental film, which Darabont clearly was not interested in. Looking back over Darabont’s career, many of his scripts have been for potentially nostalgia-riddled movies like the remake of The Blob, the sequel to David Cronenberg’s version of The Fly, an unproduced Doc Savage film, and the script for Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, as well as various episodes of Tales from the Crypt and Young Indiana Jones. Of the four movies Darabont has directed, three of them are set in the fifties, and one of them takes its cues from the creature-feature monster films of that era. Frank Darabont is a man clearly enamored of the films of Hollywood’s “golden age”, and as such uninterested in making impressionistic arthouse fare.

So how, then, do you go about filming an impressionistic story while also delivering a clear, audience-friendly, narratively simple film? Well, in this case, you whittle the story down to two or three important events, add a character to make external some of the internal struggles John is going through, and add a brief dream sequence. If I’m being honest, the dream sequence is probably cheesier and more on-the-nose than the Prisoner sequence, but we’re speaking comparatively, here. Although now that I’m nitpicking the film, I realize the obviousness of these aspects, but as I was watching it they didn’t bother me at all. More importantly, in the film as it exists, these two scenes are necessary.

One of the joys I’ve been getting out of this series of discussions with you lies in how deeply we delve into tiny moments. Some of our pieces so far have rivaled the original short stories in terms of length, and that’s allowed us to really explore different aspects of them. I’m not going to claim that our casual discussions here are encyclopedic, exhaustive, or even very academic, but it is a level of critical evaluation I don’t normally indulge in, outside of the odd college course. What I said up there about how Darabont “gets” how stories operate is true, because at this young age, with no formal training, he was able to distill Stephen King’s story to its elements, and then mold them to his own personal vision, and the resulting film is structurally satisfying and emotionally powerful. I wouldn’t say I’ve always been a fan of Darabont (I’m both looking forward to and dreading the day when we cover The Green Mile), but he has an eye for crowd-pleasing entertainments.

Darabont deploys the Prisoner scene at the right time in his film, turning it into the centerpiece of his short. It sheds light on the main character and adds shading to his emotional state, while also breaking up what could have become monotonous. Even the dream sequence serves a similar purpose, so who cares if it’s a bit more obvious than I normally like? Darabont had a limited amount of time with which to tell his story, and very limited means and experience. Things have to be more direct in a short film like this, where we don’t have time to get fully acquainted with the characters and their histories.

The Wrap-Up

Rik: I would say that I am neither a huge Darabont fan or a detractor. His greatest work is obvious, I greatly admire his take on The Mist though I dislike a couple of casting choices, I am cool on (not cool with) The Green Mile (I need to do a rewatch, but neither am I a fan of the story), and I have never fully seen The Majestic. That pretty much evens things out as far as his directorial efforts go for me.We started this piece ages ago and much has happened in our lives since we started it. I feel it is time we put this thing to bed. I think this is a pretty terrific short film that has held up marvelously over time. I don’t think it is great, but it’s pretty damn good considering its origins and the fact it was made for about a buck-thirty-seven. Like the story, I will plan to revisit it again in the future, and perhaps not wait quite so long the next time. But it is such a downer, that that “not wait quite so long” is still going to be a few years if I can help it.

Aaron: I believe we are in agreement on Frank Darabont (although I would be much harsher in my estimation of The Green Mile, but I’ll save that for whenever we actually focus on that film); he is a talented filmmaker who has created some works I love, some I modestly enjoy, and then some I just don’t care for. I figure I’ll always have a fondness for him, if only for his part in bringing forth the 1988 remake of The Blob, which is a pretty fun film that, while probably not underrated, still deserves to be seen. If I’m being honest, Darabont skews a little too much towards the emotional side of the spectrum, veering often into cheap sentimentality and schmaltz, but I think he acquits himself quite nicely here. The Woman in the Room never gets too maudlin, although it has every reason to.We also seem to be in agreement on this film, and while I enjoy it, I don’t see myself revisiting it, or the story that inspired it, anytime soon. It was a revelation, to be reminded of an aspect of King’s writing that I had forgotten (or, more likely, ignored), and it was interesting to see the humble beginnings of an Oscar winning director. I appreciate the ways in which the story affected me now that I’m older and, maybe, a little wiser (very little), but neither the story nor the film are the sorts of entertainments I normally seek out, so it may be awhile before I head this way again.

Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Night Surf [Pt. 2]

The Dollar Baby Short Films:

A quick note before we begin… It might be difficult at times to determine a film’s provenance, as sometimes the credits for these films are less than comprehensive. At all times we have made the best possible efforts to put credit where the credit is due, but if we’ve missed anything, we will be quick to fix the issue.   

We’ll be covering the films individually, and we think a quick disclaimer may be in order: We understand that the filmmakers are, for the most part, amateurs or students who were just beginning to work in film. To that end, our goal isn’t to pick a movie apart for its acting, its lack of funds, or its status as an amateur film. Each of these directors and actors has our respect for even attempting a career in this field, and it should be understood that we commend your efforts. However, it should not be forgotten that we are here to analyze the finished product. To that end, we will be bringing up what we consider to be any particular film’s faults or virtues. Hopefully this will be taken as constructive rather than simply negative harping on our part.





Short Film #1
Night Surf (2002) 
Writer/Director: Peter Sullivan
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H5oaf4FOL2M
Runtime: 33:24



Rik: The earliest known version of Night Surf as a Dollar Baby short (as far as we can figure out) is this half-hour attempt from Peter Sullivan in 2002. It is also the longest one by far. We first see the closing lines from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Masque of the Red Death (you can look them up if you don’t know them by heart already); then we hear a radio broadcast over the opening credits where the DJ talks about "everybody going down to the beach” while newspaper headlines about a “super-flu” flash across the screen. Six young adults are driving along in an SUV, variously flirting or shooting each other with a video camera, though the discussion is about one topic only: Captain Trips. They pass a very sick-looking man stranded by a broken-down vehicle, and when they see he is probably stricken with the super-flu, they keep driving. Finally, the kids come to a beachside townhouse, where they plan to stay and party for a while. Honestly, it could be the start of any horror film – young people in an isolated place – but as the actors will tell us, the isolation is only because of the super-flu that is killing everyone but them, lamenting the fact that it is now so quiet there. Still, they barbecue burgers, toast “To Life!” with each other, shoot skeet, swim, and argue about whether having the Hong Kong flu keeps them safe or it the flu could follow them all the way out to where they are now.

Meanwhile, one member of the group, Needles, has been showing gradual signs that he is getting sicker and sicker. From around the twelve-minute mark, this film practically turns into an apocalyptic version of Dying Young, with characters talking endlessly to each other in various permutations about Needles being sick and eventually dying. Then the part from the story about Alvin Sackheim being burned alive is included in the film as merely a tale that one of the characters had heard about previously. (Alvin – actually unnamed here -- is burned inside his car, not on the beach, in a quick story flashback.) The drama builds as Needles gets sicker, and the characters start to fight over keeping him alive. The short suddenly becomes a rather frenzied but confusing action film for much of the final third, with Needles trying to escape being murdered by Corey, as Bernie seeks desperately to protect his best friend. Being so focused on killing his former friend, Corey doesn’t realize that his girlfriend Joan has gotten even sicker than Needles, but blames him for this. The remainder of the film is standard action with knives and guns. And everyone is going to die anyway. 

This is the version that, for me, goes the farthest afield from King’s original concept. It is also the dullest, despite the attempts to beef it up with gore and gunshots. It is three times as long as it needs to be, and while it is not directed badly, it has mediocrity at its core on every possible level. Susie is reduced to a character that mostly just stands around or happens to be in scenes with other people, and her relationship with Bernie seems completely respectful and quiet. Despite this, you would think that in the longest version of this story there would be a truly meditative moment or three, but no, it doesn’t really want any of its characters to truly reflect on their state of being. I think this version really misses the boat. The one moment in this film I actually like is the quick mention of Derry, a reference that I will not have to explain to Stephen King fans. It seems harsh of me, but I have watched this short three times in the past three days, and I don’t want to see it again.

Aaron: You’re a far better man than I, watching this short three times. I watched it the once and can’t imagine wanting to go back to it. At the risk of instantly contradicting our disclaimer at the top, I found this to be borderline unwatchable. A lot of that has to do with the quality of the video, which seems to be a couple of VHS duplications away from its origins. Combine that with some seriously choppy editing, and it can be very hard at times to figure out what is happening on screen, particularly during the frequent low-light sequences. Several times I acted as a crime scene investigator, figuring out what had happened in a scene based on its aftermath. But more than that, this film just isn’t very interesting, and, as you say, stretched beyond its means. 

This comment will become a theme with one of these short films, but I do wonder why they bothered adapting this particular story. It feels almost as if the filmmakers had a different script developed, and then decided to say it was based on a Stephen King story for higher visibility. Some quick tweaks to character names and minor dialogue changes, a quick reference to another King property, and instantaneous name recognition is yours! In many ways, this gambit seems to have paid off, as out of this group of filmmakers, Peter Sullivan has found the most success. If you go look at his IMDb page you’ll see nearly a hundred credits as writer, director, or producer. Sure, nothing you’ll find at your local multiplex, but he has a quite healthy career in DtV and made-for-TV movies, which is nothing to sneeze at. As much as I’ve come down on this film, I’m happy to see that it led to greater things for those involved in its creation.





Short Film #2
Night Surf (2008) 
Writer: Geoff Tarulli. Director: David Humphreys
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qv9-lccYR8
Runtime: 13:30



Aaron: The second film adaptation of Night Surf came a full six years after the first, and appears at first glance to hew closer to the source material, although changes both major and minor become apparent fairly quick. The film opens with a group of young men and women walking onto a beach where they begin goofing off, making out, or, in the case of a drastically different Suzie (the film changes the spelling of her name slightly), studying a book on gardening. In the film, it appears, Suzie is preparing for the long haul. Not long into this, the group notices a sick man stumbling along the beach. This turns out to be the destined-to-be-set-aflame Alvin Sackheim. There’s some confused chatter about what to do with him, leading to Kelly (a man in the story, Kelly has been gender-swapped here, while Kelly’s girlfriend Joan has apparently become Kelly’s boyfriend John instead) theatrically declaring a sacrifice must be made to "the dark gods of the beach" in order to protect them from the super-flu. This is all taken as a sick joke, but as we’ll see in the ensuing minutes, it quickly becomes serious. But first, there is some more pairing off for half-heartedly sincere discussions.

Bernie is less antagonistic towards Suzie in this film, and while Suzie is a less needy character, she still pulls Bernie aside to ask "You still love me, right?" His response, "About as much as anyone could" is less harsh than the blunt "No" he gives her in the short story, but actually seems like it’s meaner. But then he still says the "Any port in a storm" line later on, so he’s clearly no saint. Bernie pulls away from her and begins to walk with Needles, where they discuss, among other things, that Needles has contracted "it". "It" isn’t named in this short, neither as A6 nor as Captain Trips, although the group still believes itself immune due to their exposure to A2. A lot of Bernie’s inner thoughts are given voice in the film, although some of those lines are now given to Needles in order to avoid simply bogging the film down with voiceover narration. As the day drags on and the party’s spirits are dampened by revelations and Alvin Sackheim’s continued moaning, the previously dismissed idea of burning him alive takes on more weight. The film ends with the group standing over Alvin, Kelly idly flicking a lighter, while Bernie says "we all gotta die sometime."


While I don’t think this film is a very accurate translation of the source material’s theme or tone, I do think it’s a pretty decent student film. There’s some judicious condensing of plot, some understandable excisions from the story (understandable when viewed in context of the finished product, that is), and fairly decent utilization of limited funds and locations. The acting is pretty strong, though still clearly the work of beginners (although on the other hand, much of what goes into what is popularly considered "good acting" is as much a product of post-production as it is in-the-moment behavior) Of course, events are changed enough that this story doesn’t capture what makes the story so endearing, but as its own artifact I have no problem with it. My one real complaint with this film is that, despite the dialogue, there’s no real sense that the world has ended, or that they think they might be the last group left. It’s a problem that comes up through many of these shorts, because the budgets are so low they can’t afford to empty out densely populated areas for their student films. But this one suffers more than most for feeling like these kids are just on a long holiday weekend.


Rik: Maybe Needles has contracted Pennywise the Clown?

I actually thought early on that this version might get it close to right. That feeling lasted about three minutes, but as an adaptation of someone else’s story goes, it’s not that bad a take. Some of the acting really annoyed me the first time that I watched the short, but I have come around on it in subsequent viewings (again, three). The strongest part of this version is that the group really does feel like good friends who are dealing with a very extreme situation in the best way they can, and have to fight really hard to keep their civility. They will lose this battle by deciding to burn Alvin just as the credits roll, and it is interesting that the film becomes a “should we or shouldn’t we” struggle for the characters, while also dealing with the revelation of Needles’ sickness, and the sad end this likely portends for the rest of them.

However, there was a sense for me that if one were to project what the average student film version of Night Surf would look like, it would be this one. An opening scene where a group of young adults is strolling along rather quietly (and somewhat sullenly) across a generic landscape to reach some unspoken destination almost seems like boilerplate in a student film template. This is likely why I didn’t take to my first viewing of this short initially, and it still colors my opinion of it a bit now. It is also the version where I felt that I caught some of the amateur actors “acting” the most, which also affected that viewing. But in the end, I don’t think this is a bad attempt.




Short Film #3
Night Surf (2014) 
Writers: Dan and Oren Benamor. Director: Oren Benamor
http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi829206041
Runtime: 9:50





Aaron: This short film begins with Alvin Sackheim, before he meets the group of kids central to the story. He’s clearly sick as he stumbles into his car, only to crash into his own mailbox while pulling out of his driveway. An undetermined time later (though clearly not too long after) a small group of survivors happens by. This group is greatly diminished in contrast to the story, consisting of only two young men and one woman. Immediately the tone is established as one more in keeping with the modern tradition of post-apocalyptic stories, rather than the more introspective and brooding story it’s based on. This is a group of hardened survivors, who barely think twice about pulling Alvin Sackheim from his car, tying him to a signpost on the beach, and burning him alive. Dialogue implies this is something they’ve done many times when they’ve come across infected people. Once the burning is done, and night has fallen, the group sits down to go through Alvin’s iPhone, looking at his pictures and discussing life before the plague briefly. I’m not really going to bother trying to figure out which character in the film is supposed to represent which character in the story, as I don’t even think they’re properly named in this short. At one point the character I assumed to be Bernie, due to dialogue referencing his past girlfriend, is discovered to be ill. A struggle ensues, and this character is knocked out, tied to another signpost, and burned to death before the two surviving members of the group walk off.

Of the short films, this is the one I have the least to say about it; I don’t really feel one way or another on it. The acting is decent, the production values are decent, and the adapted writing is decent. It’s all decent. But it also lacks any sort of real punch, despite its place as the meanest adaptation we’ve come across. This is one of those adaptations where, after watching it, I wonder why they bothered to buy the rights from Stephen King at all, even if it was only for one dollar. They could easily have taken this exact script, this exact film, and if they hadn’t mentioned it was based on a story by King, probably no one would have noticed. As we’ve already discussed, I’m all for changing the text to suit your own vision, and I totally understand being inspired into taking your own tangents within an existing world, but this one felt so far afield it just puzzled me a bit.


There were a couple touches I liked in this film. There were the repeatedly prominent signs around the beach that say "No lifeguard on duty." The first time we see it is the signpost Alvin Sackheim is tied to, but it shows up again on lifeguard stations seen in the background. No lifeguard, no god. It’s not exactly subtle, but a nice touch. The other is one that I’m surprised none of the other filmmakers even attempted; when the group is sitting around discussing life before the plague, there are some inserted shots of the seaside community in happier times. Large crowds bustle around the markets, sunbathe on the beach, and cavort in the water. It effectively makes this film seem bigger than it otherwise would, and helps illustrate what has been lost. It’s also such a cheap and easy way to expand the scope of your short film without actually detracting from the focus that some of the other directors must be kicking themselves for not thinking of it.

Rik: I am pretty indifferent about this film. The filmmakers seem less concerned with the details of the story, which is fine for a creative choice, and the characters of the story – who all seem to have some history together – are replaced by a set of people who all seem to barely know one another, apart from the main couple. Their behavior towards Alvin, including his burning, come off as more recidivist behavior on the part of career criminals and less as a desperate and childish act committed out of a combination of fateful fear and sheer boredom. I agree that everything here is done competently, but beyond that, it really failed to register with me at all. And it really is the one about which I have the least to say.




Short Film #4
Night Surf (2015)
Writer/Director: Tony Pomfret
http://www.imdb.com/video/wab/vi1166454041
Runtime: 14:03




Rik: An opening title superimposed over a shot of the night surf rolling in reads, “Strain 848-AB (aka: A6, Captain Trips). Highly contagious. Mortality rate: 99.4%.” This is more than some of the other films give us in setting the scene quickly. Director Tony Pomfret changes the locale to Great Britain, but that is fine with me as long as you stick to the basic elements that the story needs. This version begins with the teens huddled around a campfire in the evening. They are bored, and one of them mentions that they should have got a CD player, but it has previously been determined that is was too much to carry (they seem to be more nomadic in this one). The character of Susie is highly obnoxious here, almost psychotically unhinged, giggling and yelling most of the time, probably in an attempt to block out the horror of their situation.

An erratically driven car rolls to a stop into the sand of the beach, and it becomes clear that this version will focus directly upon the burning of Alvin Sackheim. After releasing Alvin from his seatbelt, he falls into a heap upon the ground, moaning about his “grandma” (as in the story). The teens tie his hands and feet together with a bra and a belt, soak a shirt in petrol from his engine, and then set Alvin aflame, his body set beneath a funeral pyre of driftwood and twigs they have mounted atop him. Almost nine minutes in, Bernie and Needles actually start to discuss Captain Trips and whether Needles has contracted it, while Susie goes off for a swim, oblivious to the fiery death of Alvin or the tragedy in store. They also name-check the Hong Kong flu as in the story, and Needles eventually mentions that they’ll all be dead in a month. Everyone stands apart on the beach for the next couple of minutes, each teenager dwelling on their own mortality. Finally, Bernie and Susie are seen lying on a blanket on the beach. Over his shoulder, Susie asks Bernie if he still loves her, and tucks her head atop his neck in a very clinging and desperate way. Bernie gently takes her hand in his, and just stares into the middle distance. Credits.

I think this is actually the best short version of the story thus far, even if it still misses the point somewhat. Concentrating so fully on the burning and then the disease, it completely throws out the nostalgia element. This might be due to the very American writing of King being shifted to a beach in England, but that nation is loaded with a glowing nostalgia for its beach areas of its own, with numerous seaside resort towns, gaming arcades, and broken down carnivals and theatrical venues that once heaved with glorious life. More could have been done by filming directly in one of these towns, where a resort location could have added the exact feeling discussed in King’s original story.

Aaron: Story-wise, this is indeed the closest we’ve come so far to King’s original words. I think beyond the missing nostalgia, this film’s greatest deviation, and one common to most of the adaptations so far, is in focusing on the burning of Alvin Sackheim. This leads to some pretty decent business, though, as the characters each get to react in their own way. Susie can’t stop laughing and acting generally unhinged, the men react more stoically, staring on in silence, and Joan watches on in what appears to be a mixture of terror, fascination, and sadness. 

This one improved quite a bit on a rewatch. When I first watched it I’d already worked my way through a few of these films, and I think I was blind to a few of its virtues. But looking at it now with a clearer head, I can appreciate what Tony Pomfret accomplishes here. This version has the best combination of film quality, technique, acting, and general story focus. While I think the focus on the actual burning of Alvin Sackheim detracts a bit from the emotional fallout that was the real point of the story, there’s no denying that the fallout is there for people willing to look. Less is said verbally in this film, and more is left to body language and knowing looks. Plus, it updates King’s tendency towards pop-culture references and transfers it to the other side of the pond, with a quick reference to The IT Crowd in some early dialogue. My favorite so far.





Short Film #5
Night Surf (20??) 
Writer/Director: Holly Wilkinson
https://vimeo.com/104144372
Runtime: 9:11





Rik: Unlike the others, this version eschews the establishing shots that usually connect us thematically to a beach area and starts off instead with an overhead shot that leads me to believe they should have renamed their film Sand Pit. The reason is that the filmmaker was a university student in the land-locked West Midlands region of the UK, so she is doing the best with what she can.

In a wooded area, five teens are seen holding or covering their noses as best they can, as we see a single shoe with flames within it, telling us that the burning of Alvin Sackheim has just occurred (here referred to merely as a nameless tramp). The radio station element from the story is introduced, and Angie by the Rolling Stones is heard (probably illegally; I can’t imagine they actually received permission to use it). The dialogue used by the fake DJ in the story is used here as well. Everyone stands around staring into the distance and surveying the landscape. Bernie upsets Susie by being a bastard and she runs off angrily into the woods. Needles talks about his impending illness and the guy they burnt alive. Bernie and Susie go to bed, but Bernie can’t help but dwell upon his mortality.

This one seems to be the truest attempt at tackling the original story and its themes directly, but the lack of a single shot of water reminds me that it really does bother me that Wilkinson decided to stick with the title Night Surf. The title could have been Dirt Mounds: Adapted from the short story Night Surf by Stephen King. Despite this, yet again the Brits have gotten closer to giving us a fairly decent attempt at the story, although once more missing out completely on some of the recurring themes in the piece.

Aaron: This one might be my favorite version of the film so far, though I can see the case for Tony Pomfret’s version as well. This one captures the tone of the story more closely than any of the other adaptations, even though it utilizes what could have been a cheap shortcut: voiceover narration. Not only does the burning of Alvin Sackheim occur just before the film begins, but it returns as a quick bit of visual shorthand to remind us what these characters have just done and what sort of world they inhabit now. The editing on this one is pretty great, as well, as there are a slew of quick edits to drop in mood establishing shots. I was impressed with what Holly Wilkinson accomplished here. Her film may not be as technically adept as Tony Pomfret’s, but she has a good eye for composition and a sense of rhythm in her storytelling that some of the other films lacked.

And you know what? I’m OK with the title staying behind, even though there’s no water at all in the film. The title Night Surf was always a bit poetic and sad. If Stephen King had been aiming for accuracy with his title, he could have just called it Survivors or Super-flu, or Just the Flu, if he wanted to wink at the audience a little. But Night Surf has wistful associations even to those who never visited a beach at night. It suggests something calm and peaceful. Keeping the title while removing its actual literal connotations takes the thing into the realm of poetry, and the title becomes evocative and aspirational, something the characters may dream of. I’m being a bit grandiose there, but really, the title worked for me on this one.




The Wrap-Up:

Rik: I don’t know if Night Surf needs a professional version of the story to be made into a feature film, but I would love to see a series of King’s short stories – like, all of them – turned into an HBO, Showtime, or Netflix series or the like. Maybe they could just call it Creepshow (if the rights for that aren't tied up with someone else) but keep the focus on adapting Stephen King’s endless cache of stories rather than bring in other writers (at least for the first few seasons). Maybe Stephen King could even host as the Creep. (Seriously, don’t have him host, but the notion is amusing to me.)

The downside is that a King series adapting all of these stories would probably mean the end of the Dollar Baby concept. I believe that it would be sad for it to go away, no matter what I believe about the films that come out of it. I think Night Surf could make for a decent half hour short, but I wish one of these young filmmakers would tackle it fully as laid out by King. I am all for artistic license in creating a work, even based on someone else’s material, but some of these versions make me wonder if the filmmakers and actors who created them even understood the story they were replicating. It will be interesting going forward through more of these Dollar Babies in the future to see how closely someone can get in showing true inspiration from King’s work.

Aaron: As I said earlier, I wondered several times why the filmmakers chose this story to adapt. In some cases I think maybe they had an idea in mind already and decided to slap Stephen King’s name on it to get more exposure (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time this has happened with Stephen King adaptations). I’m wondering if they all imagined themselves as Kubricks in the making, drastically altering the text while homing in on the secret heart of the story. I don’t want to come across as too negative, because I really enjoyed this dive into the world of Dollar Baby films, and look forward to more to come. 

When it comes down to it, I think a great short film could be made out of Night Surf, but it’s not going to be the easiest thing to do. For one, so much of its dramatic weight these days comes from its connection to a larger work the filmmakers wouldn’t be able to touch. For another, most of its tension is internal, and it can be hard to make that sort of drama interesting and understandable in a short time frame. Honestly to make a classic, the director would need a truly idiosyncratic style. Imagine Terrence Malick covering this material.

I would love (love!) a television series adapting the entire published canon of Stephen King short stories, and I would even enjoy seeing King introduce them. Maybe not as a character, although I think his super-cheesy demeanor was put to good use in the film Creepshow, so he could pull it off. Yet I agree that the Dollar Baby program should never go away. As varied as the results can be, as we’ve seen with this article, there’s also a sense of unpredictability that I found quite enjoyable. Much the same way King’s short stories can get weirder than his full novels, the Dollar Baby program gives up and coming filmmakers with fresh viewpoints the chance to really get crazy in their adaptations.

Rik: Terence Malick would have the right touch visually for the beach scenes (with Bernie’s narration laid right over the top properly), but would probably add an unconnected scene involving a dinosaur doing laundry at Guadalcanal while reciting poetry about the Big Bang and showing us a close-up of a butterfly in a wheat field.

Well, that’s it for We Who Watch Behind the Rows. We hope you have enjoyed our discussion, and also hope that it might inspire you to go read the story yourself and check out the many short films based upon it. Next time, we are going to jump to another story in the Night Shift collection – The Mangler – and also discuss the 1994 feature film adaptation that was directed by Tobe Hooper and stars good ol’ Freddy Krueger himself, Robert Englund. (I know... it sounds like a great combo, but please prepare for disappointment.) 

See you soon!