Dreamcatcher

Don't Blame THIS On The Sunshine

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OH!, I tried and I tried and I tried until I grew tired of trying. It was nice not giving instantly in for consensus opinion about how tremendously and how extremely bad this movie was sucking as. I thought it must have had SOME charm(s) to it, and now I do know that my suspicion was legit, yet one must admit that sucking tremendously and extremely bad, let alone doing both at the same time all do gain an entire different perspective, a highly illegal warped dimension and a zillion variants of delicate fresh meanings to them once the motion picture adaptation of Stephen King's Dreamcather is about to rampantly, ruthlessly rise! You are even free to unleash the muhaha, sadly.

As hinted, there is charm, even considerable amount of it in this output, yet Dreamcather boasts one of the the most trite flaws a film can come up with, in my opinion: it has no idea about what it wants to focally state, what it wants to thoroughly soak you into, what it wants to primarily surround you with. All these cluelessnesses do show hastily, thus there is little more to be offered than the depiction of loose directives, speaking a language which is suitable to share but the shallowest of lies to conclude a buildup of evidently promising initial qualities.
It is absolutely natural and thus totally OK to have some inspirations, even fixations as a creative person such as King. It would be a waste of good suffering to point out how Dreamcather relies on the alien-centered horror classic The Thing from 1982 as the author himself probably would have no desire to deny this evident source of inspiration he keenly and - initially - smartly used in his output. Dreamcather starts out in an easily approachable, smoothly likeable fashion, giving you a small group of good friends whom regularly spend some free time together in a highly isolated region characterized by blizzard, beer and binges. Firmly normal, nice stuff, no doubt.

Behold the Unbeknownst! of whom King himself could not possibly be serious. And, as he was not indeed, behold the casual psychic connections which do surround the depicted alien invaders just to deliver extra appeals for a very usual terrorrun which you have seen all before of. Take heed and bear witness nevertheless to the truth that lurks in this flick, as this truth reveals astonishing forms and degrees of delicare narrative murder for us, despite how this murdered narrative had no chance to born in the first place.

Little time is to remain prior the revelation of an alien organism which comes to the little wooden house in a human host. The friends do give shelter and take care of the half-frozen individual, regardless how he could be used up as a device of biological warfare. The poor man has an immense amount of hideous content in him - you do not even want to begin to imagine them - and he can not help but account on some of those via hmmm, offering glimpses of them on not necessarily too polite registers. There are though times when options are not given thus can not be taken, either.



Picture that you find the newcomer on the toilet at the very next morning, though he does not look too lively, even alive while spending quality (?) time in the ancient consensus position. The dude already revealed the most hideous stuff that had to be revealed, though there is but a toiler present that had the unfortunate chance to both witness and to bath the inherent entity in it's now-free, rampant form. A hostile alien life form in a toilet is bad news, trust me, especially when the former, now-dead host sits in the toilet that conceals the thing. The Thing, haha, phun excessively intended.

The output feels quite integral and strong to this point, in my opinion. The alien lifeform offered is a rude, aggressive, evil little mofo, and, as it will turn out hastily yet effectively, it is not at the top of the foodchain of the aliens that seemingly happened to visit Planet Earth. I guess "seemingly" can even be quite convincing, sometimes.

Enjoy the brief, fragile moments when harrassments by aliens are occurring on the canvas as the movie takes an entire different direction in an abrupt fashion, pretty much ending up as an everyday average "B" videogame with a background story about elite military units with the will to kick xenomorph butts. The moment great actor Morgan Freeman appears on canvas is the same second Dreamcatcher ignites it's mounted rockets to gain full speed power towards sour, sorrowful oblivion. Suffice it to say that you will see and hear how Freeman's character is totally fed up - haha, fed up! - with the aliens, and how he plans to lead a final assault on the hive the hostiles have established in the area. Absolute "B" action movie tastes are cooked out and served herein, which is totally OK under other circumstances - yet a rather unfortunate reverse-development when you do dare to anticipate or wish for neat, funny, inventive horrors.



Dreamcather is a work of hyperaggressive cliché abuse, as King accounts every single of his favorite fixations he as an author is seemingly obsessed of working with. These include: the Bigass Terrible Secret that connects the good friends via their shared past, - IT, anyone? - a Secret so horrible that it is only worth remembering and accounting on by the pale moonlight with a safety-fireplace present, also you absolutely must include some supernatural touch to your buildup once you want to amaze your audience with an instant horror mixture - though you do NOT have the acceptable/convincing weight and content to either of the components you do use up to form your mixture.

King offers you the shared past between the good friends the film focuses on, yet the Secret is not a Thing now, but a person. A psychic little dude who imbues his very special gifts on the friends because they were kind to them and defended him when evil big bullies tried to feed dogshite to him. Ah. This is so shocking, so horrible, so King. Sorry, I absolutely respect this great horror author. I confess I am not super-familiar with his work but I am aware of how masterful ideas he had and shared with consensus already - but I think it is safe to say that he has a tendency to utilize radical, pretty much lightweight comic book emotional abuse - which is not a blame factor on it's own, of course - to give a false weight to characters he is not satisfied with. The shallow characters. In Dreamcather, this feelings haunts me considerably. All these characters are quite shallow, and they have psychic powers because, I think, King THOUGHT they absolutely need to have them so they could be more interesting. But it did not turn out too good, I suppose. So, you need a highly hostile alien lifeform to haunt their naked butt, now, this is something, no? Bah!

Seems that sometimes a creative process and related buildup can collapse on itself, as King surely could not have been satisfied with the resultant psychic friends who can hear and see other people's thoughts and stuff, being invaded by an alien lifeform to deliver you initial extrras. Seeing how even THIS leads to nowhere acceptable, King unleashes military touches, then finally collides the military intervention with the psychic connection between the friends, so maybe, they together can put a stop to the alien menace! God, this is almost hopeless. The rather puzzling belief that others can see your thoughts can be a symptom of schizophrenia by the way, so King did not exactly released the Passat Wind from a very personal black hole, schizos already came up with THIS one. Though it's quite nice, and surely it seems very usable if you ever plan to make yourself crazy.



- MAN! This SCRIPT! It's HORRIBLE!
- 'tleast it's DEAD, though!

I have seen many King adaptations in which characters exhibited some personal, pathos-filled rituals as well, the writer with his snowballs and the tree form Misery and obviously, the dudes here with their beer drinking to the next 20 years do come to my mind. I got the feeling when King has nothing to tell neither to you or for his very own character creations, then he starts to throw around these - in my opinion - inept little vibes, like giving a personal ritual to THIS guy so he might be more interesting, let's just give some deficit for THIS dude, maybe some body-related handicap or emotional deficit. Let's make him blind, let's make him psycho, let's make him this, and that. King, I think, sometimes forgets how frightening normality can be, thus conceptualizes deficits as tools and things you absolutely MUST utilize to make a character suffer or just to make him interesting. Mind you I, these are the traits to give away King when he has no real stuff to tell, and also, these are just my impressions, though Jack Torrance just told me that he basically agrees.

There are times when these traits do not seem to influence the buildup in a significant manner, thus they end up as semi-trite accessories to give you the feeling that they are existent because they conceal the inherent emptiness which they truly live on and by. King either lies masterfully, or painfully clumsily, I think. The Dreamcather movie is a very nice, robust collection of his absolutely worst moments to date, thus it is also an adaptation that you do not want to miss. Make no mistake, please: I think it's OK to create crap if it is surrounded by quality on both sides. And I think Stephen King would agree. Though Jack Torrance tells me King would surely eradicate me butt. But Jack is nuts. Now Jack is in dilemma.



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