Review - The Life of Chuck
Directed by: Mike Flanagan
Written by: Mike Flanagan
Starring: Tom Hiddleston, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillian, Mark Hamill
Running Time: 110 Minutes
Rating: 3/5
Mike Flanagan is turning over a new leaf.
No more ghosts, no more hauntings and no more jump scares. The man (formerly) of Netflix’s horror escapdes in The Haunting of Hill House, The Haunting of Bly Manor and the latest, The Fall of the House of Usher; has seemingly mellowed out in a transition out of the darkness and into the light. His newest feature, The Life of Chuck is a melancholy reflection of life, death and everything in between.
Adapted from Stephen King’s novella If It Bleeds; The Life of Chuck is an almost life-affirming realization of our own humanity and all the little things that make us who we are. Told in a unique reverse chronological order; the film features snippets of a life of a man, who might have not lived his life to his fullest - but also, arguably, lived his life to the utmost best of his own ability. Charles Krantz (played impeccably by Tom Hiddleston, Jacob Tremblay, Benjamin Pajak & Cody Flanagan) was born amongst tragedy but brought up in a world surrounded by love and mediocrity. The film is a slice of life (three, to be exact) across different iterations of “Chuck”, and the people he comes across, the people he loves, learns and loses.
Chuck is Flanagan at his most optimistic and maybe even existentialist. The film feels like a storybook, a lesson to be learned, had and lived. Tied together by the Life of Chuck, the film is separated into three acts that are told in reverse chronological order - from the end to the beginning. Each section, a distinct iteration of Chuck (in one form or another) with their own small narrative arc across the film’s chapter. Guided by the omniscient God-like narrator (voiced by Nick Offerman) Flanagan’s film is almost too heavy handed in its message across time and space; the lessons he wants us to live by, the joys and sorrows of life felt by each of his characters and the temporal understanding of how vast the world and universe can be - but also how we all play a role in the lives of others - no matter how small, or how large. Flanagan exudes confidence in the way he is able to shift across multiple tonal shifts; dreadful tension in the midst of a catastrophic disaster, to belly-aching laughter in the awkward growing’s up of adolescents and the breathless extravegance of a seven minute extensive dance routine.
While Chuck is our protagonist, the film is very much an ensemble drama; a sprawling cloak across the web of space and time. Hiddleston, the older version of Chuck, is only in the film for a matter of seven to ten minutes, climaxing in a virtuoso dance sequence that will left (and will leave) the TIFF audiences clapping and ready to shimmy on the theatre floor. Hiddleston, only present in the second chapter of the film; spreads the wealth of Chuck across the rest of the film, with powerful performances by Chiwetel Ejiofor, a man trying to make amends with his ex-wife (Karen Gillian), and of course, the multitude of Flanagan regulars in smaller, cameo-like roles. It always feels like the lightest of jump scares to see a familiar face of the Flanagan universe - whether its Kate Siegel, Rahul Kohli or even Samantha Sloyan, we never feel far from Flanagan’s past.
That being said, The Life of Chuck, feels, at times, a drastic change of pace from what we could expect from Flanagan. A master of horror in his previous television series and films; Chuck feels a little meandering in narrative and dialogue. Never boring, but at times, a little glacial in pace, Flanagan is missing just a little shock to the system to keep audiences afloat across the film’s three chapters. Some scenes feel a little long and a little static that can lead to some wondering eyes across the theatre.
Even in Flanagan’s grandoise scale, the film feels intimate, aspiring and most of all, exceptionally touching. With ideological and philosophical ponderings across the universe, space and time, Chuck’s journey is one that is met with dreary eyes and empty stares. One that can feel overtly overwhelming in relation to our own speck in the world. How did we get here? Who are we in the world around us? What are we supposed to do or feel in our lives? What does it mean to live? Chuck doesn’t know. Many of Flanagan’s characters don’t know either. But maybe that’s what the film really wants us to learn from. That it’s okay. It feels like a warm hug. One that will keep us safe and sound when we are scared of the future. One that is comforting to know that everything will be alright one day.
