A Vida de Chuck

When you think of the pairing of Stephen King and filmmaker Mike Flanagan, your immediate thought is likely horror. The American author is famous for novels like It, The Shining, and Misery, while the American filmmaker has delivered some of the most acclaimed horror in the last decade with Oculus (2013), The Haunting of Hill House (2018), and Doctor Sleep (2019). Yet their latest collaboration ventures far from the horror genre, instead embracing a more philosophical and contemplative tone.

The Life of Chuck (2024) is adapted from a short story in King's collection If It Bleeds. Told in three acts and in reverse chronological order, the story begins at the end: we follow a high school teacher (Chiwetel Ejiofor) in a dystopian near-future that feels uncomfortably present-rolling blackouts, raging wildfires, and mounting conflict between Pakistan and India. When the face of a seeming nobody, Charles Krantz (Tom Hiddleston), begins appearing on billboards and ads with a cryptic message-"Thank you, Chuck, for 39 great years"-no one can explain why, especially amid an apparent apocalypse. We then move backward in time to meet Chuck as an adult: an unassuming accountant. Eventually, we arrive at his childhood, where he is raised by his math-loving, alcoholic grandfather (Mark Hamill) and his dance-loving grandmother (Mia Sara).

The Life of Chuck is difficult to summarize-or even introduce. That ambiguity likely contributed to its initial struggle to secure distribution, despite winning the top prize at the prestigious Toronto International Film Festival. The film begins as a gripping dystopian drama but gradually transforms into a slice-of-life meditation on an ordinary man's existence. It ultimately feels more akin to a Noah Baumbach or Richard Linklater film than to the usual work of Flanagan or King, evoking the emotional resonance of King's Stand by Me and The Green Mile.

This isn't a cradle-to-grave biopic but rather a presentation of three key moments in Chuck's life, tied together by Nick Offerman's warm narration that channels King's lyrical prose. Both King and Flanagan have a gift for crafting vivid characters in mere seconds, perhaps best illustrated in a mall dance sequence where three people we've only just met share a moment so emotionally resonant that it nearly brings you to tears. Yet the emotional core of the film lies in Chuck's youth, which gives us the fullest picture of his life and connects the dots established in the earlier acts. In many ways, the film mirrors how we get to know people in real life: starting with a surface impression, discovering small clues to their passions, and then uncovering the deeper history that shaped them. This reverse narrative structure is rare in cinema, used most famously by Christopher Nolan in Memento (2000) to depict the experience of short-term memory loss.

The Life of Chuck is a mosaic of small moments, interactions, and observations that cumulatively reveal the life of a man who may, at first glance, seem insignificant. But King's story and Flanagan's adaptation elevate the ordinary, framing the narrative with Walt Whitman's poem Song of Myself, especially the line: "I contain multitudes." This quote becomes key to understanding the supernatural undercurrents and thematic glue that binds the film's three acts.

Some viewers may wish for more obvious connections between the segments or a more traditional narrative arc. Each act is a gem in its own right, but the transitions can feel abrupt or disconnected. Still, adding filler or more conventional storytelling would only dilute the film's essence. The sparse structure is deliberate-and powerful. Padding it with exposition or additional characters would risk undermining the film's emotional clarity and philosophical weight. Flanagan's refusal to spoon-feed the audience is a courageous choice and one of the reasons I admire him as a filmmaker, both on television and in cinema. Like Terrence Malick's later work-though far less pretentious-The Life of Chuck asks the viewer to meet it halfway.

Visually, Flanagan continues to impress with a clean, distinctive cinematic language that enhances rather than distracts. His editing and pacing feel like listening to a master orator-confident, fluid, and perfectly timed. He's also one of the most consistent directors of actors working today, drawing superb performances from both stars and newcomers alike. While Hiddleston and Ejiofor are predictably excellent, it's the younger cast-especially Benjamin Pajak as young Chuck-who shine. Even those with only a line or two make an impression, thanks in part to strong casting and Flanagan's knack for coaxing depth from every performance.

In the end, The Life of Chuck is as difficult to classify as it is to explain. Its vignettes and meditations on what makes a life meaningful steer clear of sentimentality to deliver a heartfelt and enriching experience. With bold direction, a unique structure if slightly disjointed, and a profound source text, The Life of Chuck may not follow the rules-but that's precisely why it shouldn't be missed.

It says, when you die, you die for good. There is nothing there in the 'great beyond', no 'heaven', no meeting with your ancestors, your dad, mom, you just cease to exist altogether. It's like turning off your TV: sudden blackness. The last thought in your mind is 'I love y...' and there is nothing. Now, that is very, extremely hard to take as a thought before one dies. The nothingness. What about your mind, your consciousness, your feeling of ego, your identity? Where does it go? Does it go anywhere? The person you are. Well, that doesn't, it says. You die. You will no longer exist. Only the influences you made will live in others. Not you. I think that's why religions were invented. To make you believe that your own self won't disappear into nothingness. I also think that's why heaven and hell were invented... ...I believe it is a very thought-provoking project, full of atheism and a lot of wishful religious thinking at the same time.

Adapting Stephen King to the screen is a tricky proposition and has rarely been successful. With the exception of Carrie (the original Brian DePalma is a horror classic) and possibly Kubrick s The Shining (which gets better with age and when looked at through an auteur's lens) the only successful adaptations IMHO have been his short stories and novellas (The Body/Stand By Me and Shawshank come immediately to mind). Life of Chuck falls into the latter category. In addition to being well written and acted, the telling of the story in reverse is generally difficult, and in this outing is surprisingly effective. And it's fun finding the Easter Eggs in the third part of the movie that explains much of the action in the first part.

I really liked this, though I fear it will be divisive. Nonlinear (or counter linear?) storytelling is not everyone's cup of tea. My husband hated it until I told him it's a Mike Flanagan movie (we're fans) and it then made sense. As mentioned, well acted. Well written. Well directed. Prettily photographed. The end of the first portion is a surprise (I will not give it away) that ties all three parts together.

IMO it's a worthwhile two hours spent in the dark with a room full of strangers.

It honestly boggles my mind how I kept reading about how this movie was bombing at the box office, when it clearly was very poorly marketed. It was two weeks after its "wide" release before it finally showed up to our local art house/second run movie theater. The chain multiplexes gave it a complete miss.

Mike Flanagan is a very talented screenwriter and director and this was possibly Stephen King's most sentimental work. And there's two INCREDIBLE dance scenes. The result is completely human, uplifting film.

There is some anxiety inducing story in the start of the film, but it is not a horror film by any measure. King is also very good with general fiction too, after all.

This movie will stick with you for awhile. Hours after my viewing, I was still thinking about it (and tearing up.)

This is a beautiful film. The pacing was perfect, with likeable characters. It doesn't spoil itself or its message, but rather gives you three acts leaving you pondering how everything weaves together.

I have pondered in my life why certain moments are impactful and have helped form me into the individual I am today. It feels like utter randomness, but that's the point isn't it. What matters to me...what gives me substance...is what makes me the unique person I am. It's the good, the bad, the meager, all of it that comes together to form our universe and reality as we know it. So I'll leave you with this: Be kind to yourself and others. Hug your loved ones, forgive those you can forgive, and when your expiration date comes accept and trust that your life was exactly as it was meant to be.