Writer, director, and editor Mike Flanagan obviously had a whim in his head that bothered him. Thankfully, he didn't shoo it away like the rest of us might've and kept developing it before courageously committing it to film. Add typical mechanisms of movie sequels that may make the final plot for Doctor Sleep sturdier than its premise, but what prevails is unchartered territory in slow-cooking terror and remarkably intelligent acting for such a modestly budgeted horror film.
Flanagan probably surmised that making a sequel to a Kubrick film can't ever be the best of ideas. There's an unflappable sense of "we are not worthy." After all, filmmakers doting on their master end up doing downright dumb things (such as bending over backwards in a sequel to exonerate Hal the computer).
Less sequel than new concoction borrowing from both King and Kubrick, Doctor Sleep introduces diverse characters that wonderfully keep us on our toes. Lookalikes represent the old characters reduced here to still compelling cameos.
Praise for Ewan McGregor for taking on an acting project such as this, which requires insightful acceptance of all its bizarre premises. His adult version of Danny Torrance requires him to immediately recognize what "shining" can and can't do, while not upstaging all the tricky and creepy goings-on he encounters. He stoically conveys the hodgepodge without ever confusing us.
I also thoroughly enjoyed Kyliegh Curran as psychic savant Abra Stone, who confidently balances teen ingénue with intrepid magic warrior. Above all, Rebecca Ferguson's character, billed as "Rose The Hat," ranks up there with all the legendary movie monsters I have ever seen: beautifully seductive, but never a doubt as to her evil (i.e., all the makings of a popular action figure).
Aside from these lead roles, the acting support from many of the lesser roles was downright astonishing: ever-reliable Cliff Curtis gives us a sweet and humble version of Danny's loyal buddy; Emily Alyn Lind sizzles in her own combination of beauty and evil, not to mention angry youth; Zahn McClarnon meticulously works his ghoulish persona and trimmed beard into the menacing "Crow Daddy"; while Carl Lumbly channels Scatman Crothers with eerie but fascinating mimicry (or perhaps a little help from CGI).
Scary movie aficionados know who they are and have a high tolerance for violence and gore. Doctor Sleep has painful moments to watch, but in our own twisted way, we have to admire something that makes us think this way and works ideas until they are just right--or marvelously wrong.
Flanagan probably surmised that making a sequel to a Kubrick film can't ever be the best of ideas. There's an unflappable sense of "we are not worthy." After all, filmmakers doting on their master end up doing downright dumb things (such as bending over backwards in a sequel to exonerate Hal the computer).
Less sequel than new concoction borrowing from both King and Kubrick, Doctor Sleep introduces diverse characters that wonderfully keep us on our toes. Lookalikes represent the old characters reduced here to still compelling cameos.
Praise for Ewan McGregor for taking on an acting project such as this, which requires insightful acceptance of all its bizarre premises. His adult version of Danny Torrance requires him to immediately recognize what "shining" can and can't do, while not upstaging all the tricky and creepy goings-on he encounters. He stoically conveys the hodgepodge without ever confusing us.
I also thoroughly enjoyed Kyliegh Curran as psychic savant Abra Stone, who confidently balances teen ingénue with intrepid magic warrior. Above all, Rebecca Ferguson's character, billed as "Rose The Hat," ranks up there with all the legendary movie monsters I have ever seen: beautifully seductive, but never a doubt as to her evil (i.e., all the makings of a popular action figure).
Aside from these lead roles, the acting support from many of the lesser roles was downright astonishing: ever-reliable Cliff Curtis gives us a sweet and humble version of Danny's loyal buddy; Emily Alyn Lind sizzles in her own combination of beauty and evil, not to mention angry youth; Zahn McClarnon meticulously works his ghoulish persona and trimmed beard into the menacing "Crow Daddy"; while Carl Lumbly channels Scatman Crothers with eerie but fascinating mimicry (or perhaps a little help from CGI).
Scary movie aficionados know who they are and have a high tolerance for violence and gore. Doctor Sleep has painful moments to watch, but in our own twisted way, we have to admire something that makes us think this way and works ideas until they are just right--or marvelously wrong.