The Life of Chuck

If you want to go for the really scary stuff, there are plenty of other King movies for that. “Chuck” instead is something truly special, a moving fantasy of a life well lived and no dance step left untaken.

The Life of Chuck is not so much about raging at the dying of the light but about how we embrace the inevitability of death and the wonder of what comes before. It’s blockbuster metaphysics, a twinkle in the eye of the infinite.

The film’s driving ideas, which transform over the course of the picture, are replete with ironic potential, but Flanagan ably navigates the tonal minefield, never presenting the whole thing as a wink-wink joke on his characters. They feel real, both in their conception and in how they deviate from our preconceptions, which is quite an accomplishment given that most of them aren’t even onscreen for that long within the movie’s frescolike structure.

There is definitely some extraneous storytelling muddle in The Life Of Chuck, but once you get past the opening act, there are glories to be had – in the form of a terrific childhood coming-of-age tale anchored by a star-making turn by Pajak and exceptional dancing by Pajak and Hiddleston.

Lacking in tonal connective tissue, The Life of Chuck may still leave in its wake the desired upbeat, life-hugging effect, but it ultimately proves to be an ephemeral one — as transitory as the apparitions who usually haunt Flanagan’s more potent ghost stories.

You can admire the ambition of The Life of Chuck while still wondering if such a lightly philosophical story needed to make the leap to the screen – or if turning all of its prose into Nick Offerman voice-over was the best move. It’s less an adaptation, ultimately, than a glorified book on tape from a talented King superfan.

In The Life of Chuck, the pieces come together much too obviously. And the takeaways — that a person is the product of experience, and don’t judge a book by its cover — are well-tread to the point of total flatness.

I hesitated before starting this film, knowing how difficult Stephen King is to adapt, but Mike Flanagan delivers his most beautiful and poetic work here. Told in reverse across three acts—from Chuck’s death back to his childhood—the story only reveals its full meaning at the end credits, leaving a lasting emotional impact. The cast is excellent, though the marketing misleadingly spotlighted Tom Hiddleston despite his brief appearance. Still, this doesn’t lessen the experience: a rare, soothing, and luminous film that deserves the highest praise.

Even though this is based on a novella by Stephen King and directed by Mike Flanagan (best known for horror) this film doesn’t enter the thriller arena. Instead, it’s a life-affirming story with references to another writer, Walt Whitman, whose "Song of Myself" focuses on every person having the universe within. The film starts with Act 3, literally, when a teacher (Chiwetel Ejiofor) copes with the upcoming apocalypse, while the title character (Tom Hiddleston) is dying. Act 2 moves back to Chuck as a pubescent (Benjamin Pajak) learning to enjoy his love of dance. Act 1 finishes off with a teen version (Jacob Tremblay) facing the mortality of his family and himself. Of course, this reverse timeline takes the film out of a reality-based narrative, while the regular voiceover and wordy life lessons impart meaning. (It’s nice to see Mark Hammil, looking like Geppetto, giving one such discourse). This is ultimately a quiet meditation about the beauty of the human spirit and the fragility of our existence. It's not deeply emotional, but gently compelling.

It’s incredibly frustrating to watch a film that has so much potential but ultimately fails to capitalize on it. Such is the case with one of the most heavily anticipated offerings of the summer movie season, “The Life of Chuck, from writer-director Mike Flanagan, based on the short story of the same name from author Steven King. Told in three acts in reverse chronological order, the picture follows the life of Charles “Chuck” Krantz (Tom Hiddleston) and how his adult self emerged from a childhood of mixed experiences under the care of his paternal grandparents (Mark Hamill, Mia Sara). It focuses on how an inquisitive preteen (Jacob Tremblay) with a love of and gift for dance ultimately (and largely inexplicably) settled for a mediocre life as an accountant instead, one whose existence was sadly cut short in his prime and subsequently provided the basis for soul-searching and introspective reflection among characters and audience members alike. In telling this story, the film seeks to address a variety of grand philosophical and cosmological questions, many of which are tied to regrets about the compromises we make during our lifetimes. While the film certainly has its share of genuine flashes of brilliance in this regard, there aren’t nearly enough of them, and those that manage to surface are frequently underdeveloped, soft peddled, applied inconsistently (even in contradictory fashion) or significantly watered down. It’s almost as if the filmmaker lacked sufficient confidence in his own message, yielding a superficial, uneven, sometimes treacly treatment of its foundational principles. The fault here primarily lies with a script that should have gone through one or more additional rounds of revisions to refine what it was attempting to achieve – its quest to make the truly profound statement it was striving for instead of settling for something far less sublime and eminently unsatisfying. Moreover, the screenplay’s shortcomings carry over into other aspects of the production, particularly the unnecessary inclusion of extraneous material while simultaneously undercooking other more relevant elements. And this, in turn, affects such other aspects as the film’s underwhelming editing and sometimes-unimpressive performances (most notably Hiddleston, who ends up primarily playing a glorified walk-on). To its credit, there are some noteworthy attributes, such as the positively mesmerizing opening sequence (as presented here, “Act Three”), the picture’s delightful sense of whimsy, clever (if occasionally overdone) homages to other pictures (especially “Back to the Future” (1985) and “The Truman Show” (1998)), an excellent original score and commendable complementary soundtrack (despite its mind-boggling exclusion of what would have been a perfectly suited addition, one that Tom Petty fans will readily recognize), and a fine supporting performance by Chiwetel Ejiofor. But, these assets aside, they’re not enough to make up for the picture’s shortfalls. To that end, then, moviegoers looking for better screening choices that address material like what was intended here would be wise to view Tim Burton’s far superior “Big Fish” (2003) instead. Indeed, had it been handled more adeptly, “The Life of Chuck” could have been one of the best-ever adaptations of one of King’s works and one of the best overall releases of recent years, a picture with much to offer audiences on so many fronts. Unfortunately, we’ll never get to see that film and the valuable wisdom it could have imparted for how we live our lives and how we can get the most out of them while we have the chance.

The opening sequence is great, the rest of the **** so much. It goes on for a good 20-30 minutes too long. Too much time is wasted on needless dance numbers. It is a tonal mess that can't decide what it wants or needs to be.

I loved the dance routines but the creepy opening scene sank this “feel good” movie for me. Pornhub made money off child abuse, sex trafficking, and other crimes. “Missing it” as if it was a great invention, beloved by many. Ugh, just writing that makes me nauseous.