Stephen King, �Dreamcatcher�
There�s a stereotype about people going to movies by themselves. And it�s true. Okay, maybe it�s not, but for the most part, it seems true. I�ve gone to a few by myself, more so when I was taking classes at De Anza, since I usually ended up having huge chunks of free time between classes, and there was a cheap theater across the street. It�s been a while since that happened, and I don�t think I�ve gone to a theater alone since 1999.
As it happens, there�s one girl who I�ve gone to most of my movies with lately, and within the last two years, I think I�ve seen more movies in the theater than in the previous four years all together. Since I started reading the entire paper on a daily basis, I can�t help but know more about what�s playing, and sometimes, I get interested in all the publicity.
So we usually rotate who picks the film, her going for more standard fare, me choosing a lot of independents. We�ve both been poorer than usual lately however, so the last movie I went to was Daredevil. It�s been her turn to pick a movie for a while now, but we haven�t either had the time or the funds.
I should note that she�s a huge horror movie buff, and thus wants to go see any movie that comes out in that genre. I�m usually ambivalent about these, as there hasn�t been a truly brilliant horror movie released since Evil Dead 2. Sure, there�s been a few that were okay, but nobody seems to do it right anymore. But when the commercial came on for Dreamcatcher, she announced that she wanted to see it.
From what I saw in the preview, it certainly didn�t look like it was worth nine bucks. Hell, it didn�t look like it was worth two bucks. But I made her go to the documentary on Terry Gilliam, and she doesn�t even like Brazil.
I also had the book sitting on my to read shelf, picked up by me for free after somebody left it in the store, even after we told him we didn�t want it. It�s also a huge book, so I figured reading it would make some much-needed room on my bookcase. I started it, figuring I would at least have a little insight into the film.
And within the first 200 pages, I could see why somebody would want to make this movie, aside from the fact that it would probably make a shitload of money. There�s some very eerie, theatrical scenes written here, with so much vividness in the prose it almost feels like King wrote the scene specifically because it would transfer well to the screen. I actually thought the movie might turn out to be okay, if the director could capture the mood correctly.
But it should also be noted that this book was written after King was hit by that car which then confined him to a wheelchair. I assume he was taking a lot of painkillers. As somebody who just went through a bunch of painkillers, I can say these things mess with your mind.
As the book progressed it got more disjointed, introducing too many characters with little to do, and the plot made less and less sense. All of the foreboding from the beginning melted away and soon the novel became more of a chore than anything, hence why it took so long to finish.
But finish it I did, albeit reluctantly. Titling it Dreamcatcher was a smart move, because this put me to sleep several times. But I shut the book at the end and managed not to throw the fucking thing against the wall. I called my friend and said while I was not looking forward to seeing this movie, which if it did follow the story line of the book would make no sense at all, I was ready to go.
�I saw it last week,� she said.
That�s when I threw it against the wall.
