By Su-kim Lee
After the likes of CHRISTINE, THE SHINING and MISERY, all of us hardcore Stephen King fans became Pavlov’s slobbering puppies whenever SK’s name was attached to anything. It could have been a TV show; it could have been a commercial; it could have been toilet paper for heck’s sake, we were hooked. But, then came the downward spiral that included some truly apocalyptic stinkers (none of which will be listed here ‘cos y’all know ‘em) and we bowed our heads and wept acrid, bitter tears.
The drought was long and hard and sent most of us scuttling for the comfort of our worn and dog-eared paperback copies of “Apt Pupil,” “Needful Things” and “The Dark Tower” series.
— pause —
Then came 1408.
— pause again —
Holy moly.
— last pause —
As I type this missive, a tottering hardback tower of SK teeters on the verge of oblivion at the edge of my desk.
1408 delivers popcorn-in-the-air, girls-burying-their-heads-in-their-dates’-chests, old-fashioned frights. Nervous laughter and the guys looking at each other with fake, “naw, that didn’t scare me, I was just adjusting my shoe” bravado.
There’s a lot of people listed in the credits, but does anyone remember anyone other than John Cusack and Samuel L. ‘muthaf*ckin’ Jackson? SLJ’s only in the movie for a few moments, but he makes the most of those moments, not by simply chewing the scenery, but devouring it wholesale without a single hiccup.
JC plays a cynical writer of all things haunted, and research for his next book takes him to spooooooky hotels with
creeeeeeeepy rooms. He arrives at The Dolphin Hotel, where SLJ attempts to dissuade him from staying in room 1408, ‘cos peeps who try the room don’t last more than an hour and have a tendency to 360 out the window. JC blows off SLJ’s advice (but not his booze), and proceeds to discover that the room actually is as bad as its rep: totally and utterly effin’ evil.
Cusack’s performance is disturbingly riveting, and I don’t think I’ve seen him immerse himself in a role like this since GROSSE POINTE BLANK. The fun the filmmakers have with the wackiness of the room reminded me of a psychotic’s version of Disney’s
Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. (BTW, hoteliers: Can we please, please, please go back to using keys instead of those stoooooopid and annoying plastic cards to get into our rooms? Part of the romance and mystery of staying at a hotel is the key rattling in the lock. Who used it last? What happened to the previous guests? Is that a bloodstain on the wall?)
1408 is a play in four parts: Cynical Guy being a cynical know-it-all, Cynical Guy getting an inkling of what is about to happen and being warned off by that dude from PULP FICTION, Cynical Guy being turned into emotional cottage cheese by the room, and ultimately, Cynical Guy finally coming to terms with … ah, but that would be telling ...