In just over a decade, Mike Flanagan went from promising indie director to one of the best American genre filmmakers working today. Starting with Absentia and Oculus, he soon worked his way up to studio fare (Doctor Sleep) before spending the past several years making Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House and The Fall of the House of Usher. With The Life of Chuck, his first film in five years, Flanagan takes a step away from horror to make an elaborate drama about life and mortality. It’s only a slight step outside of his wheelhouse, as he’s adapting a non-horror novella by none other than Stephen King, an author he worships for better and worse.
Shown in reverse order, the film opens with “Act Three,” which focuses on schoolteacher Marty (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his ex-wife Felicia (Karen Gillan), a nurse at the town’s overwhelmed hospital. We open on what is essentially the final days of humanity’s existence; a series of natural disasters all but confirm the end times are here, thus Marty and Felicia reunite as a means of survival and in need to avoid facing the apocalypse on their own. But another mystery emerges amid the carnage vis-à-vis advertisements celebrating the retirement of accountant Chuck Krantz (Tom Hiddleston). At first there’s a giant billboard, then radio ads, and soon TV spots that overtake every channel. Who is Chuck Krantz, and does he have anything to do with the planet’s annihilation?
Answers to those questions arrive in acts two and one, which travel back in time to follow Chuck as an adult and child. The knotty nature of Chuck and his involvement in the calamities of the final act make details tough to explain, although all of it amounts to a grand statement on how people should make the most of their time on Earth and that our finite existence is only wasted when we fret about the inevitability of death. It’s a simple message, one Flanagan tells with full-throated sincerity, and none of which rings true. The convoluted, ornate plot and structure do as much as possible to dress up a central message that could fit right inside a Facebook post of generic, inspirational quotes. You could call The Life of Chuck sweet, but there’s a difference between sugar and high-fructose corn syrup.
It’s particularly tough to swallow Flanagan’s shovelfuls of saccharine material when it co-exists with his talents as a director and editor. Take Life of Chuck‘s second act, where the narrator (Nick Offerman) sets the scene between three characters: Chuck, a busking drummer (Taylor Gordon), and a young woman (Annalise Basso) reeling from her boyfriend unceremoniously dumping her. Chuck stops and dances to the drummer while she plays, which evolves into a full-blown dance number that draws a crowd before the young woman joins in as a dance partner. Flanagan does a great job directing the dancing––his precision in composition and editing, his nimble way of moving the camera around the space letting the scene flow. It’s unfortunate to see Flanagan directing his ass off on a sequence written and constructed like a Super Bowl ad.
The film’s overly precious nature will likely make The Life of Chuck critic-proof as well––anyone who takes issue with its basic themes will be seen as stomping on a wholesome effort to spread joy. But nice intentions don’t mean those themes can’t be called out for resting on a flimsy foundation. Many films have tackled the same, essential aspect of human existence around our fears of tragedy, grief, and death. The best, like those by Terence Davies, accept the highs and lows of life head-on because we have no choice but to accept them. A film like David Lynch’s The Straight Story shows people defined by tragedy and hardship choosing to remain kind and selfless, portrayed as acts of perseverance that are beyond moving and life-affirming.
The Life of Chuck looks at death and chooses to burrow itself into the past, a misguided attempt to change our perspective on how we view life. (In case neither the story nor the use of a narrower aspect ratio for past sequences make that clear, a character states the purpose of the reverse chronology out-loud.) All technical prowess, from Flanagan to his strong ensemble cast, can only go so far when it’s in service of such shallow, offensive escapism. This is a childish take on a universal experience and everyone, from the people involved in the production to the viewers, deserve better.
The Life of Chuck premiered at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival.