After having over a meter (3 feet for my fellow Americans) of snow fall on us in just a few days, the isolated and trapped feeling gave us great cause to want to watch the ultimate cabin fever-in the depth of winter film. Regardless of how many times one has seen The Shining, it never loses that overwhelming sense of dread.

As soon as Jack Torrance is in frame, that uneasy feeling takes over. I feel as though I wish I could warn all of the other characters in the movie to walk on eggshells, don't upset him! Maybe you shouldn't talk to him right now! Can't you see it! Just leave him alone! There has never been another character…

Jack, Wendy, and Danny spending the winter at the Overlook Hotel. The interview. Fuckin' Tony. Cabin fuckin' Fever. Blood. Closing day. High elevation. Cannibals. Darts. Twins. The Gold Room. Fuckin' Dick. Danny loves Ketchup. TANG. The Shine. Fuck you Room 237! Power fuckin' Wheels. A typewriter. Wall ball. Mini-maze. Jack the Grouch. Jack's sweater. High-tech audio equipment. O-VER. The way Danny closes his eyes. Mickey Mouse. Awesome fuckin' carpet. Losing your fuckin' mind. Jack's fuckin' eyes. Jack's fuckin' laugh. Lloyd's wise words. A confession. Foxy paintings. Tits in the water. Fuck you mirror! Olive fuckin' Oyl. Jeeves. Red, Red, Rum. The trance. A jet plane. Rocky's corner man. Road Runner. Louisville Slugger. Dull fuckin' Jack. Stairs. Trapped. Snow. A big-ass…

What defines the greatest horror film of all time? Is it the film that most unsettles and terrifies you? Is it the film that rewards repeat viewings, never diluting the film’s impact no matter how many times you watch it? Or is it the film so expertly crafted whether it be the tight plotting, career defining performances or flawless direction, that it comes close to perfection? Whatever way you define greatness The Shining inevitably comes out on top.

I have vivid memories of watching Kubrick’s masterpiece for the first time. Like all the best horror experiences I was far too young to really watch it, and despite hearing stories about it in the playground, nothing can really prepare you for…

Part of Hoop-Tober

“I’m sorry to differ with you sir, but you are the caretaker. You’ve always been the caretaker. I should know, sir—I’ve always been here.”

Solitude has a way of driving a man mad. The uninterrupted stream of one’s thoughts, the isolated expanses that double as metaphoric existential crises, the insipid sameness of the day to day. Hence the age-old proverb in favor of building bridges rather than walls. It is a trite observation, one as old as time but no less valid for its prevalence. From the demoniac bellowing in the hills until Jesus relieved him of his burden (and doomed some poor swine) to Miss Havisham moldering in her wedding dress to Alfred Packer and his…

I think that The Shining is, outside of one of its major plot points, a pretty good name for this film. It's a shining example of why no filmmaker should feel obliged to as closely mirror a book as possible when doing an adaptation.

When Stanley Kubrick released The Shining, Stephen King famously decried it, saying that it hardly resembled his novel at all. Quite often since then people have suggested that King simply does not understand cinema, an opinion that is hardly helped by his one directorial foray (Maximum Overdrive, which I love despite its utter incompetence) and his endorsement of the ridiculous ending tacked on to the adaptation of The Mist.

But maybe, just maybe, he saw something…

What can be said about this film that hasn't already been said a thousand times before?

The Shining is atmospheric horror at it's finest. Where most films would start in a peaceful world where all is well, the Shining alerts you from the first frame that something is off putting. The sweeping shots of the Colorado forest, accompanied by the eery synth score overcome you with it's beauty, but also dwarf you in their grandeur. There is something about the vastness of the setting that just makes you feel like you have no control here. And that feeling just gets worse and worse throughout the film, as we start to see the characters swirl into madness, and the reliability of…

Can Stephen King get any lamer? I mean out of all the adaptations to get upset about this is where he picks his fight? I get that this story was injected with some sort of autobiographical element on his part. But it’s time to kill your darlings. The truest adaptation is not always the best. In fact, I’d argue that Kubrick intentionally distances himself from the novel in this case. 

The downplaying of the supernatural (which really isn’t downplayed that much) actually lends itself to a better story. Here, Jack is not slowly driven to insanity by the Overlook Hotel, he’s nearly mad going in and the Overlook is used more as a playground for his nightmares to come into…