MAGNET contributing writer Jud Cost is sharing some of the wealth of classic films he’s been lucky enough to see over the past 40 years. Trolling the backwaters of cinema, he has worked up a list of more than 500 titles—from the silent era through the ’90s—that you may have missed. A new selection, all currently available on DVD, appears every week.
The Shining (1980, 144 minutes)
A solitary white Volkswagen, seen from a helicopter’s point of view, follows a long ribbon of road through lush woodlands, ever upward, toward the Overlook Hotel. The synthetic keyboard that director Stanley Kubrick used in A Clockwork Orange casts an autumnal pall over the rugged landscape, whose migratory birds have long ago flown elsewhere. As the automobile enters a tunnel carved through solid granite 75 years ago, it approaches the end of its 25-mile journey, a huge structure built deep into snow country in 1907.
Jack Torrance has an appointment with the Overlook’s general manager, Stuart Ullman, to assume his duties as caretaker during the off-season, beginning on October 31. “Our people in Denver recommended Jack very highly, and for once, I agree with them,” says Ullman to his secretary as Torrance knocks on the office door. “It seems to me the skiing up here would be fantastic,” says Torrance (Jack Nicholson) to Ullman (Barry Nelson), inquiring why the resort closes down for the winter. Keeping the access road to the hotel open during nasty weather is economically unfeasible, Ullman explains.
Back in Denver, Jack’s wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall) and son Danny (Danny Lloyd) have lunch in the kitchen as they discuss their upcoming journey to join Jack at the Overlook. “Mom, do you really want to live in that hotel for the winter?” asks a moping Danny. “Sure, it’ll be lots of fun,” says his mom. “I guess so. There’s hardly anybody to play with around here,” says Danny. “What about Tony? I’ll bet he’s looking forward to the hotel,” says mom. “I don’t want to go there, Mrs. Torrance,” says Danny in Tony’s squeaky voice as he wiggles his forefinger. “How come you don’t want to go, Tony?” asks mom, playing along with the game. “I just don’t!” says the finger.
“One other thing we should talk about before I hand you over to Bill Watson for a guided tour,” says Ullman. “Not to sound melodramatic, but it’s an incident that can give some people second thoughts about taking this job.” Crossing his legs and smiling, Torrance says, “I’m intrigued.” “I don’t suppose they told you about the tragedy we had up here during the winter of 1970,” says Ullman. “I don’t believe they did,” replies Torrance.
Taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Ullman begins. “My predecessor hired a man named Charles Grady who had good references, seemed normal in every way. But at some point during the winter he suffered a complete mental breakdown. He ran amok and killed his wife and two daughters with an axe. Then, after stacking them very neatly in one of the rooms, he put both barrels of a shotgun into his mouth. The police said it was what old-timers around here used to call ‘cabin fever.'”
