The Shining *

It is fair to say that horror movies attach themselves to an unfortunate yet unavoidable law of diminishing returns.

Plainly put, they are never as scary as the first time you watched them and even revisiting a generic masterpiece such as Halloween or The Exorcist tends to become a progressively less horrifying experience over a number of repeat viewings.

But if there is an exception to this rule then The Shining is most definitely it; Stanley Kubrick's horror masterpiece simply gets more terrifying every time you watch it.

This is a dark, complex study of incipient madness, spectral murder and supernatural visions in a deserted, snowbound mountain hotel and set almost entirely within the confines of the small family left maintaining the place during the harsh winter months.
Built on an ancient Indian burial ground (a minor point for Kubrick and stolen by Poltergeist), this forboding hotel is haunted by evil spirits.

Despite its violent history, wannabe writer Jack Torrance (a defining role for Jack Nicholson) accepts the job of caretaker at the vast, remote Overlook Hotel. The hostile weather conditions ensure that the hotel is closed every winter so the quiet isolation will be the perfect environment for tackling writer’s block.
He takes with him his doting wife (Shelley Duvall) and mysteriously subdued young son Danny (Danny Lloyd).

It is clear from the beginning that all is not perfect within this family unit as we learn of Jack’s history of alcoholism and an isolated incident of domestic violence involving drunken father and infant son. Early scenes of the family alone together are infused with the guilt-ridden, uncomfortable awkwardness that resonates painfully from their dysfunctional past.
We also learn of young Danny’s strange clairvoyance and his ability to ‘shine’ (seeing dark visions of the truth), which manifests through his imaginary friend Tony (represented creepily by the boy’s talking finger).

After a lengthy build up (which mostly demonstrates the family’s growing boredom with their surroundings ie: Jack hurling a ball against the sprawling lobby wall or Danny hurtling through the corridors on his pedal trike), increasingly strange occurrences begin to unfold and the heebie-jeebies creep in big time.
Slowly withdrawing more and more form reality, Jack becomes incapable of writing, brutally seethes at his innocent wife and ‘meets’ the mystical inhabitants of the hotel.
At the same time Danny is confronted with a series of harsh and disturbing visions that echo the hotel’s bloody past and the dark spirits of the Overlook finally come to life...

Or do they?

Are Jack’s visions actual supernatural apparitions or are they brought on by his growing psychological instability?
When he enters the vast, empty ballroom ("your credit is fine Mr Torrance") is he travelling into the black heart of the Overlook itself or merely re-awakening his dormant desire to drink?

And here lies the infuriating brilliance of The Shining; borrowing a quote from H.P. Lovecraft, Kubrick employed the mantra "in all things that are mysterious...never explain" and by keeping these answers (and many others) just out of reach, he creates that most primal of terrors; the unknown.

And there is NOTHING more frightening than that surely?

Technically there is no better film in the genre; the opening helicopter shot (complete with doom-laden music), deep focus lenses, the smooth fluidity of the Steadicam and rapid editing are all masterfully employed to keep you on the edge of your seat. Even the simple shape of the rooms (enormous roofed sets inspired by Citizen Kane) conspire to unnerve; there is SOMETHING about the hallway, SOMETHING about the sterile bathroom and SOMETHING about that huge corridor that is utterly chilling.

And if that wasn’t enough, the images are simply unforgettable; the tidal wave of blood that cascades from the lifts, the rotting corpse in the bathtub and the countless subliminal images of past carnage are virtually impossible to shake off. And who can forget Jack’s mad, leering face through the axe-splintered doorway? The Johnny Carson show would never be the same again.

But the terror goes even deeper than images and symbolism; how about the theory that adult fears are based upon repetitions of childhood fears? Or that primitive childhood fear of a ‘big house’? Or even how monsters are simply an echo of the fear we had of our parents? Someone call Dr Freud!

The acting (which is often inexplicably lambasted) is exemplary; Jack Nicholson may deliver his maddest moments in the latter going, but early on his performance is built on understatement and restraint. Here is a man stuck with a wife he doesn’t love or respect and a son for whom he has mixed feelings of love, guilt and regret. When he does begin to break down, his anger is directed at the stifling domesticity of his cloying wife and her grating (though well-meaning) interference.
"You have always been the caretaker" says the spectral waiter Grady menacingly. The evil may have always been in Jack and The Overlook may have merely awakened it. Does the potential for evil reside in all men? The final, shattering shot certainly suggests it.
Oh and rumours that Kubrick fed Nicholson endless cheese sandwiches (which the actor loathes to the point of physical revulsion) to make him even more mad, are true.

Young Danny Lloyd (in his first and only movie) is very creepy as Danny and perfectly captures (whether its intentional or not) that outsider vulnerability of the weird outcast kid we all knew at school. The scene where he repeatedly mutters RED RUM whilst convulsing and fitting is freaky in the extreme.

Shelley Duvall is the weakest link for most viewers but she too is perfectly cast. Kubrick may have been regularly exasperated with the actress (Vivien Kubrick’s warts n’ all making of documentary is the essential companion), but to be fair she is stuck playing a pathetic character. She delivers a very human performance and given the family past, she appears to be holding everything together with an anodyne niceness that clearly aggravates her short fused husband.
Doubters should check out the scene where weeping and still in love, she locks her deranged husband in the meat locker and her transformation from chipmunk-faced wife to trembling, terrified wreck is quite staggering.

Stephen King (upon whose excellent novel the film is based - the title comes from the line 'we all shine on' in the John Lennon song Instant Karma) hated the film, mostly because Kubrick and co-writer Diane Johnson filleted the book and ditched the more formulaic aspects in favour of a study in madness and ambiguous evil. The fact that King foolishly decided to remake The Shining as a TV mini-series to derisory reaction clearly shows who was right.

So although little more than a haunted house story, The Shining transcends the boundaries of the genre by finding horror in almost every minute detail - the topiary maze, the papers bearing the chillingly repetitive ‘all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ and Danny’s trike pedalling silently over carpet and noisily over wooden floorboards are all mighty unnerving under Kubrick’s cold gaze. Here is film alive with grandiose symbolism and where every frame and every shot overflows with Kubrick’s genius for implying psychological purpose in setting.

You’ll notice that I haven’t really explained what Kubrick’s film is actually about and, frankly, that’s because I haven’t decided myself yet. Maybe I never will.
But I guess all we need to know right now is that The Shining is about a director lifting horror to a higher plane...and the rest friends, is up to us.

And if you don’t get it, you’re missing the point.

Because ‘in all things that are mysterious...never explain’