Salem's Lot

 Stephen King's Salem's Lot is, like The Stand, a novel with a sprawling cast of characters entangled in a complex web of relationships. There's a reason why both have only ever been made as miniseries - and all of them still had to make many, many changes to the source material. Any movie version of either would have to cuts so much of the book that most of what made it special in the first place would be inevitably lost.

 And so it is with the new HBO adaptation of Salem's Lot. It's still the story of a small town that's invaded by a pernicious presence that brings out the worst in everyone until chaos reigns*. Except that even though the movie does spend some time establishing the fault lines and characters that will later become semi-feral bloodsuckers, it quickly becomes more of a cheesy, 80's laced horror adventure.

 Inevitably, it's set in the '70s, like its source material - this story would be unrecognizable in the age of mobile phones and social media. It mainly follows two characters: Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman, just as bland as his dad) as he returns to his hometown of Salem's Lot (Maine, of course- it's a Steven King Staple) to research a novel, and Mark Petrie (Jordan Preston Carter), an eleven-year-old who's basically obscenely competen in absolutely everything. Seriously - he's introduced immobilizing a bully Segal-style, and later takes to vampire hunting with an even-handedness that would make Peter Vincent feel completely inadequate.

Get that clown. Vampire. I mean vampire.

 Following the arrival of a mysterious stranger (Pilou Asbæk, gloriously ridiculous) at the local haunted mansion, a string of child disappearances (there's been a lot of that lately on this blog, hasn't there?) rocks the town. And then people start getting turned into vampires. Our heroes and a few disposable sidekicks quickly realize what's going on and decide something to do something about it. It's actually kind of refreshing how quickly they figure and accept what's going on, though it does require a hefty suspension of disbelief.
 The book is notorious for spending a very long time setting up things and ratcheting up tension - the real mayhem only really starts in the last few chapters; Here, it's more half and half, and a lot of the supernatural stuff is pulled forward to provide a brisker pace.

 Those changes mean that the film is nothing like the novel, despite being recognizably based on it. And yet... it's a surprisingly fun take, a film that feels like it was discovered in a time capsule. Writer/director Gary Dauberman's adaptation is firmly tongue in cheek without fully crossing over into horror comedy; When you find out that an eleven-year-old is an ace driver, for example, it's a moment that invites more of a good-natured cheer than eye-rolling. Or at least good-natured eye-rolling. 

 It is pretty stupid, is what I'm saying, willfully so, in both obvious and subtle ways. This is the type of film where crosses glow like the sun as soon as vampires come near, even emitting a sort of high-wattage lamp sub-sonic flicker as they light up. It's also the type of film where the characterization is completely left to the side characters; Mark, Ben and his girlfriend Sue get the barest minimum of personality. They're just the protagonists.

 Alfre Woodward and Bill Camp get much meatier roles as concerned citizens and would-be vampire hunters. Woodward, in particular, gets a very clever, that shows, rather than tells that she's figured something out - a rare moment of subtlety in this movie. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I have to pay respects to Asbæk's Renfield character - he's basically chewing scenery as if he came in from a Hammer movie. Someone should probably tell him auditions for Nosferatu are closed.

 So. It's a throwback 80's style action horror film, knowingly cheesy. There are a few laughs, but they mostly come out of situations organically. It feels like a huge improvement over Dauberman's previous two-part script for King's It.

What elevates it is a rare (in horror) sense of style. The production is a little on-the-nose with its period detail, but very well realized. And the ambiance is to die for; Layered thick - dusty, sepia-tinged sunlight and a gorgeous autumnal palette during the day, misty, inky-black nights with vampires perching on rooftops like bright-eyed gargoyles.
 There's a scene where two kids get attacked while trekking through a forest, backlit against the gloaming, that is frankly beautiful; Another one, set at a bar, makes uncanny use of light and, more importantly, shadow. The haunted house the vampires nest at looms over the town at one point, like Dracula's castle. There are also a host of fun, showy matching cuts, starting early on with an amazing transition from a business card to a staircase, but my favorite is probably a priest going through a bible to a guy opening a sandwich to check its contents.

Dauberman, cinematographer Michael Burgess, and the rest of the crew have evidently lavished attention on the visual side of things, and I love it. James Wan is a producer; I'm sure he got a kick out of that.

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 There are, of course, a ton of problems baked into the film's approach. If you aren't on-board with what it's doing, you'll fucking hate it. This dumbness does get to be a bit too much even if you get into the spirit of things; once our heroes know vampires are in play, for example, their refusal to wear even a measly crucifix or slather themselves in garlic like human kebabs is very, very perplexing.

 But the thing that was most detrimental to my enjoyment was an extremely underwhelming final confrontation - hell: the final boss and head vampire himself, the Nosferatu motherfucker** who caused all the trouble in the first place barely makes an impression.

 As for the adaptation liberties... eh. I have a lot of affection for the book, but to be honest I'd rather have this than a more faithful adaptation. It's got some surprises. The literary approach of the novel is best left to the novel or a series... and honestly I'm not at all that interested in the latter.

 It's fine! A bit corny and old-fashioned, but again, that's kind of the appeal here. I suspect it'll make a great kid's horror gateway movie despite the tween deaths, or, frankly, probably because of them. There's a little blood, but not much - some splatters, but most of it is implied or more fun than upsetting. This is a much better result than we had any right to expect from the maker of some Annabelle sequels and the unholy clusterfuck HBO has become.

*: Sit down, Needful Things. You'll probably get another chance sometime soon.

**: A nod to Tobe Hooper's version, I'm sure. Definitely not from the book.