At this point in time, the names Stephen King and Mike Flanagan are synonymous with quality. At the very minimal, King’s name attached to a property denotes a fascinating concept; at an even bolder extreme, King on cinema has delivered some of the best movies of all time. The Life of Chuck brings together these two storytellers once again for an adaptation of the short story of the same name from King’s 2020 novel, If It Bleeds. Interestingly enough, this marks the second title pulled from the pages of that book, after the surprisingly good Mr. Harrigan’s Phone. Expecting horror from King seems like a safe bet, but The Life of Chuck takes a different approach—it falls more in line with titles such as The Green Mile, Stand By Me, or The Shawshank Redemption. A beautifully bittersweet take on morality and the lives we lead, The Life of Chuck is an important, wonderfully constructed indie with a beating heart of meaning as only King and Flanagan could provide.
The storyline unfolds in three distinct acts, uniquely beginning from act III, then working its way backwards. Civilization unravels under earthquakes, sinkholes, rising seas, and a failing internet. As chaos escalates, strange tributes appear everywhere to the mysterious Chuck Krantz (Tom Hiddleston). Marty (Chiwetel Ejiofor), a teacher, and Felicia (Karen Gillan), a nurse, grapple with despair as the world quietly flickers out. The cosmic metaphor has been baked into the very DNA of the film—humanity’s place in time is a brief spark, only exacerbated by all that talk of a cosmic calendar encompassing the existence of the universe.
Could this be a taste of cosmic horror? Try again. In Act II, adult Chuck stumbles upon a street performer, and bursts into an impromptu dance that turns into a full-blown spectacle. The sequence is joyous, a reminder that life’s meaning lies in fleeting pleasures, not in careers or legacies. Act I contains multitudes—the most intimate section traces Chuck’s childhood, and threads his life through the perspective of his toddler self (Cody Flanagan) and his ten-year-old self (Benjamin Pajak). Through loss, Chuck finds comfort with his also grieving grandparents, and embraces dance as an outlet for joy. A tender moonwalking scene at a school dance crystallizes his belief of wonder held inside. The nonlinear narrative structure, lifted directly from the book, packs a wallop of emotional impact as it heads into its final segment.
While the structure may initially appear fragmented, Life of Chuck has an expansive heart. Every memory, from school dances to street performances, becomes a constellation forming the shape of Chuck’s life. Flanagan uses King’s framework to weave together themes of mortality and fragile joys that make life worth living. Hiddleston delivers a soulful performance—sparingly featured despite having his character’s name in the title—that balances humor and melancholy. But it’s surprisingly Mark Hamill who provides one of the most moving sequences. His monologue on the beauty of numbers and accounting injects his character with a vibrant electricity. Chiwetel Ejiofor grounds Act III with quiet grace, while Heather Langenkamp offers warmth in a very small role in Act I. Even the smaller roles, such as Matthew Lillard as a teary-eyed neighbor, contribute to the larger whole. Counting the Flanagan regulars that pop up throughout adds an extra element of fun for those familiar with his recurring troupe.
Flanagan pointedly views the crowning achievement as the epic dance sequence found smack dab in the middle of the movie.That entire extended moment feels magical as it hops from one musical era to the next in a rousing flourish of beauty. There’s more to The Life of Chuck than meets the eye. Further layers unfold the deeper it goes, even with that wonderful dance displayed as its centerpiece. There’s a magical realism element with a tiny attic space known as a cupola, deep messages about appreciating one’s life, and an adorable dance set to “My Sharona.” Ultimately, Flanagan’s film reflects the human condition and fated moments,. The themes are deep but not outside the realm of Flanagan’s viewpoint epitomized in Midnight Mass and The Haunting of Hill House. Here, a master helps bring to life the complexities of a moving short story, punctuated by Nick Offerman’s moving voiceover.
The Life of Chuck made a small splash in theaters, but on Blu-Ray, it comes complete with special features that accentuate its qualities. The making-of featurette and on-set interviews with Mark Hamill, Tom Hiddleston, Chiwetel Ejiofor certainly help to emphasize just how special this movie was, and the complexities of working on a shoestring budget post-Covid. However, the all-encompassing commentary from Mike Flanagan is the insightful cherry on top of an already terrific movie. His self-deprecating warmness as he recollects the power of the story and embracing the indie sensibilities once more are delightful to hear. He has a true admiration for anyone he works with, evidenced by the love he displays towards every single person we see both onscreen and off.
I wish I had been able to experience The Life of Chuck in a theater, but Flanagan’s little passion project has never felt more at home than it now does on my physical media shelf. As someone who constantly thinks about what comes after we die, or what life truly means, this special collaboration between Flanagan and King truly does contain multitudes. Despite being an entirely different genre for the horror maven to approach, his attention to familial bonds and emotional flourishes in other works come in clutch for Chuck’s layers. Stunningly realized and perfectly splendid, The Life of Chuck stands tall as a tearful meditation on life’s mysteries.
Unfold the grand tapestry of The Life of Chuck, coming to Blu-Ray September 30th from NEON Films.
