National Post (National Edition)
Leaning tower
STEPHEN KING’S DARK TOWER SERIES GETS CAMPY TREATMENT THAT SATISFIES NO ONE.
The highly anticipated movie adaptation of Stephen King’s magnum opus The Dark Tower crudely simplifies the fantastical elements of the eight-book series, failing to satisfy King Fans, while simultaneously failing to make any sense to outsiders unfamiliar with the books — thereby servicing no one.
Idris Elba plays the terse, wary Gunslinger — the last of his kind, decked out in distressed leather, two guns at his holster — seeking vengeance against the mysterious, dark sorcerer Man in Black (Matthew McConaughey) for killing his father. But he can never seem to find the damn guy, because the Man in Black is busy trying to bring down something called the Dark Tower. It connects different worlds (including Earth, which the other-worldlies refer to as Keystone Earth) and keeps out all evil and darkness. There’s no rhyme or reason to the Man in Black’s anarchy, and McConaughey plays the simple dark wizard with his signature swagger that only makes the movie seem campy and King’s fantastical world sound ludicrous (which it admittedly is — sorry King fans).
Jake Chambers (Tom Taylor) is a pale, intense kid with big eyes living in Keystone Earth (New York, specifically) whose visions and dreams of the Man in Black reveal his evil plot to use kidnapped children’s psychic energy as a weapon against the Dark Tower. Jake also dreams of the Gunslinger, and eventually finds a portal to bring the two together. Initially, the Gunslinger is suspicious of Jake but comes to trust and admire the kid’s tenacity and psychic abilities. The unlikely surrogate-father-son duo try to take down the Man in Black, but it’s like trying to take down the Devil or Darth Vader. He’s extremely powerful, capable of killing people with a small hand gesture or a few words.
It’s a confusing fictional world to understand, and one that director Nikolaj Arcel fails to bring to life onscreen. The location of the Man in Black’s lair, for example, is only shown in an establishing shot, but we have no idea which world it belongs in. Inside this dark lair, a team of minions monitor and plan to kidnap kids using a large surveillance network — are these magical computers? What Internet Service Provider do they use in this world? — and strap them to what look like dentist chairs to sap their psychic energy. Whatever terrifying effect the image of helpless children should have is rendered ineffective by the film’s utter lack of worldbuilding and a hodgepodge of gobbledy-gook fantasy tropes, which include the Man in Black’s old-fashioned mahogany furniture holding curios — actually, they might just be marbles — that supposedly unleash demons.
The film takes only two seconds to explain how any of the Man in Black’s magic works — think of him as a really sexy Dr. Mabuse and you’ve pretty much nailed it — but it relies so heavily on the magician’s fantastical traps and minion kidnappers for its action-heavy set-pieces that one can’t help but be taken out of the movie. Portals, demons, other worlds – it all comes too fast and furious to keep up with. Any mystery about the titular tower is immediately abolished by the same establishing shot used over and over again, never accruing any narrative significance but just a looming, mysterious threat.
The only time The Dark Tower is remotely entertaining is when the Gunslinger, brought to Keystone Earth through a portal, must pretend that he belongs there. He likes the restorative effects of the Coca-Cola can Jake gives him and refers to it as simply “sugar.” He lies to a doctor asking him where he’s from and answers “Keystone Earth,” like that would mean anything to an Earth human. The audience can tell the actors had the most fun shooting these scenes, but they only make the ludicrousness of the film’s internal logic that much more glaring and absurd.
The Dark Tower’s adaptation is lost in translation, and it’s hard to tell who’s at fault: the screenwriters or King himself, whose world-building makes more sense in the multiple-book series in which he can take the time to ramble on and cobble something together.