SCRATCHING ON GLASS: AN INTRODUCTION TO STEPHEN KING ON TELEVISION
BY LANCE VAUGHAN

On the night of November 17, 1979, I did not sleep well. Earlier in the evening CBS aired the first part of a miniseries based on the Stephen King novel Salem’s Lot and it had quite the effect on me. I would later learn I was hardly alone in my disquiet. One scene in particular refused to loosen its grip, and anyone who has witnessed director Tobe Hooper’s uncanny take on the material will instantly know of what scene I speak. It involves the nocturnal visit of a ghoulish sibling to his older brother’s bedroom window. Sporting fangs and a pumpkin grimace the child floats among swirling mists while coaxing his brother to allow him entrance with an unearthly scratch upon the glass. If you were a child watching in the late seventies, this haunting scenario had a particularly sadistic sting in its tail, for when it was over many of us poor kids were rushed to bedrooms that looked no different from the one we were so relieved to leave behind on the small screen. Then again, I just watched the nightmare encounter once more to refresh my memory and, some thirty-five years later, it hasn’t lost any of its power to chill.

Even though Salem’s Lot was a huge success on all fronts, King’s work (with the exception of various episodes of both Tales from the Darkside and The Twilight Zone series revamp) was in such high demand throughout the 1980s that it was more likely to be snatched up for cinemas rather than produced for television. Happily the drought would transform into a crimson downpour at the start of the new decade with the 1990 miniseries IT. Based on what is arguably the ultimate King novel, IT concerns a group of lifelong friends who must confront an evil that exploits their every fear and usually presents itself as a malicious, mocking clown named Pennywise. The grand tome was split into two parts and aired on two (not consecutive) nights, with the first part focusing on the gang of outcasts as naïve children and the second part as world-weary adults. For many viewers, the introductory segment is the standout; the concluding segment attempts to up-the-scares provided by Tim Curry as Pennywise in the first half, and it simply can’t be done. In fact, one could throw any critique they pleased at this miniseries but there’s no denying that Curry delivers one of the all-time great horror performances.

This iconic image from Salem’s Lot caused many a sleepless night.

The mid-nineties welcomed a four-part adaptation of what many consider King’s masterpiece, The Stand, as well as a two-part adaptation of The Tommyknockers, a book King himself has described as “awful.” Neither lands on their feet but there’s no question which one falls from a greater height. Few would expect The Tommyknockers to be anything besides diverting entertainment, and in this respect it reaches its modest goal with an exceptionably likeable cast. On the other hand, the mind reels at the possibilities for greatness in The Stand adaptation, but most of them are squandered away. The disappointment is all the more bitter given that the epic miniseries starts out with a bang. There are some great moments, but the overall lack of vision (or budget) collide with a few clunky performances for something altogether less than satisfactory.

Next up was 1995’s The Langoliers, directed by genre regular Tom Holland (of Fright Night fame) and based on a novella featured in King’s anthology Four Past Midnight. The story combines familiar airplane disaster movie tropes with eerie interdimensional Twilight Zone-worthy time travel elements. It’s a thought provoking albeit long-winded affair further hindered by the instantly dated computer effects, which attempt to visualize what would have been better left to the imagination.

Speaking of visuals, the craft of computer generated effects had developed enough by 1997 to tackle the overzealous topiary hedge animals of The Shining. It’s well known that King was never a huge fan of director Stanley Kubrick’s earlier interpretation of the novel, possibly his most personal creation; nearly two decades later the author would have the last word.

Publicly King often voiced his dissatisfaction with Jack Nicholson’s performance, notably the lack of transformation/deterioration in his role of the alcoholic Jack Torrance. But if King’s teleplay of The Shining is anything to go by, his qualms go deeper. It’s safe to say that the three-part telefilm reconstruction doesn’t risk eclipsing Kubrick’s masterwork, but it’s not without its charm. The performances by the two leads, Steven Weber (as Jack Torrance) and Rebecca De Mornay (as wife Wendy), are top notch and although the scares are not quite icicle sharp, there’s still something fascinating in spending time in the location (Colorado’s The Stanley Hotel) that inspired the novel.

The close of the decade delivered the miniseries King himself lists as one of his favorite adaptations, Storm of the Century (1999). I’m of the mind to agree. Storm of the Century is a rare beast in that it’s not based on an existing work of King’s but was created specifically for television. Well aware of the format by this point, King avoids the usual pitfalls and concessions for a straightforward, well-oiled effort that avoids ostentation without ending up drab. Place and setting are utilized to the utmost, and the characters are as relatable as they are memorable. Colm Feore delivers a true stand out performance as the strikingly villainous Andre Linoge.

Storm of the Century was a collaborative effort by King and stunt man turned director Craig R. Baxley. Its success inspired them to team up again for another original miniseries, a love letter to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House entitled Rose Red in 2002.¹

The symbiotic relationship between television and the works of Stephen King continues. His tales may find splashier glory on the big screen, but the small screen, which inspired much of King’s love for fantasy and horror in the first place, allows some of his heftier tales more room to breathe in adaptation. Whether it’s cable ready TV movies based on short stories like Trucks (2000) and Big Driver (2014); popular novels like Desperation (2006); miniseries’ like the remake of Salem’s Lot (2004) and Bag of Bones (2011); King’s multiple stabs at a series’ like Golden Years (1991), Kingdom Hospital (2004), Nightmares and Dreamscapes (2006); or the multiple seasoned Under the Dome (2013), King’s constant influence on television is just as strong as his powerful foothold on cinema and writing in general, which is to say unprecedented and—not unlike my memory of a certain vampire boy floating on air and scratching on glass—everlasting.

 

1Baxley would helm a Rose Red prequel the following year, based on King’s characters but written by Ridley Pearson.