The Life of Chuck beautifully illuminates the magic, devastation, and solemn finality of our lives
The Life of Chuck is based on a Stephen King short story from his collection, If It Bleeds, published in 2020. “The Life of Chuck” is similar to King’s other less scary, more dramatic works, such as “Stand by Me,” “The Green Mile,” and “The Shawshank Redemption.” But unlike those, “The Life of Chuck” is filled with colorful wonder and likeable characters, even as it explores the sad and mathematical truth of our finite existence. Writer/director Mike Flanagan (Midnight Mass; The Fall of the House of Usher) is no stranger to adapting King’s work, having already directed two: Gerald’s Game and Doctor Sleep. Fans of Flanagan’s horror series and films know that in addition to the intricately-crafted scares and permeating sense of dread his team is so effective at creating, Flanagan knows how to deliver moments of authentic sentimentality. Focusing on that latter ability, Flanagan is the perfect director for The Life of Chuck. Combining visual flair with a whimsical yet brutally honest script, The Life of Chuck is, ultimately, a precious piece of existential storytelling.
The Life of Chuck is told in three acts, presented in reverse order, that follow the life of Charles “Chuck” Krantz (Tom Hiddleston). Act Three centers on two individuals; a teacher, Marty Anderson (Chiwetel Ejiofor) and his ex-wife, a nurse, Felicia Gordon (Karen Gillan). Marty and Felicia gradually come to terms with an impending apocalypse caused by a series of environmental catastrophes wreaking havoc on global populations and institutions. As humanity approaches its assumed end, ads begin to increasingly appear around their small town showing Chuck and the words, “Charles Krantz. 39 Great Years. Thanks Chuck!” When we jump backwards to Act Two, Chuck is an accountant enjoying a sunny day in an outdoor mall in between conference sessions. On a sudden impulse, Chuck partakes in a buoyant dance with a young woman to the lively drumming of a young busker on the walkway. Act Three takes us further back, to Chuck as a young child (played by Benjamin Pajak and Jacob Tremblay) as he navigates tragic loss, existential curiosities, and the beginnings of his love of dance.
The structure of The Life of Chuck means that most of the actors only get limited screen time. Character interactions and moments in Chuck’s life thus have an intentional fleeting quality. After all, the film makes a point of driving home the idea that our time is not infinite, that there’s a brevity to life that can be approached in an understandably sad and yet hopeful manner. At The Life of Chuck’s midway point, the film’s narrator (Nick Offerman) says, speaking as Chuck’s subconscious, “Would answers make a good thing better?” The film explores the idea that, knowing the facts of life (i.e., we are born and then we die), questioning the good things we experience, like happy memories, love, relationships, etc. may be fruitless. Asking “why” may do more harm than good.
I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking… Why would I go see this movie? This sounds like really heavy, depressing stuff! The beauty in King’s writing and Flanagan’s faithful adaptation lies within the tone and visuals. The Life of Chuck is a beautiful film. The cinematography from Eben Bolter (The Last of Us) looks incredible, whether a soft close-up of Chuck’s contemplative face, a bright and cheery wide shot of a group crowded around a dancing couple, or lovers staring up at a luminescent night sky. The film is bright because it is, ultimately, hopeful. In the bleak confrontation with our own miniscule existence (portrayed in numerous visual and mathematical language within the film), there are so many wonderful memories and connections, and worlds, to be made. The Life of Chuck is explicitly inspired by the Walt Whitman poem, “Song of Myself,” and in particular the phrase, “I contain multitudes.” The Life of Chuck embraces this idea, that vast worlds of complex thoughts and experiences exist within each of us, as a comforting aid in our challenging quest for existential acceptance.
—–
The Life of Chuck is in select theaters and opens wider on Friday, June 13th.
