The Life of Chuck Looks Death in the Face

“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then, I contradict myself; I am large- I contain multitudes.”

Walt Whitman’s famous lines in the “Song of Myself” section of Leaves of Grass take on both new and literal meaning in The Life of Chuck. This Stephen King adaptation arrives with a magical and fantastical bent all its own. The Life of Chuck beats the metaphorical drum of Romanticism and Transcendentalism, pointing us towards the many different facets of the human condition. It reminds us that art and logic are both independent and inherently intertwined. And it tells us that life is worth living to the fullest; that it’s worth it to connect with others, even when death is staring you down.

Chuck (Tom Hiddleston) dancing on top of blue waters and in front of a blue sky — Image Courtesy of Neon

The trailers don’t reveal much about the narrative of the film, other than that it chronicles the life of one Chuck Krantz (Tom Hiddleston). I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll dive a few moments of the film though, just to give you a taste of the kind of film you’re in for.

Living In the End Times

A Narrator introduces us to Marty Anderson, a high school teacher (12 Years a Slave’s Chiwetel Ejiofor). He lives in a time when the world just might be tumbling towards Armageddon. It’s the last day of the last month of the last few seconds on The Cosmic Calendar. The internet has fallen offline, giant sinkholes are forming in the streets, people are offing themselves, and phone signals have gone dead. The TV network stations are down too, except for a placeholder screen with an unfamiliar man. They feature the words: “Charles Krantz: 39 Great Years! Thanks, Chuck!” Billboards and radio ads thank this strange mystery man as well. No one knows who he is.

Marty looks at the camera while he's sitting in a chair in front of the classroom blackboard

Felicia Gordon (The MCU’s Karen Gillan), Marty’s ex-wife, meanwhile, works on a hospital ward. So many people are leaving the old-fashioned way that Felicia has actually dubbed her team “The Suicide Squad.” Lonely one night, she calls Marty, hoping for reconciliation, or at least someone to spend the last few moments of the universe with.

Marty tries in vain to continue his parent/teacher conferences, but the parents just aren’t having it. They lament the world’s state, grieving the loss of their once-meaningful lives. Unable to continue his work, Felicia’s phone call spurs something in Marty, and he takes it upon himself to reconnect.

Surreal Mood

The film’s opening sequence is somber and downtrodden in tone. It was surprising, considering that I had heard the film was optimistic in its outlook. Viewers will also be able to relate to it. It matches the mood of the current times, as I’m sure most of us feel as if there’s some kind of apocalyptic event on the horizon. The act also took a largely surrealistic turn towards the end, playing out like an episode of the hit TV series Black Mirror. This absolutely had me hooked. I wasn’t particularly surprised to find out where it was going, but the execution was on point.

Ejiofor captures his character’s intelligence and how he uses it to attempt to capture the vast existence of the universe in relation to the infinitesimal significance of mankind’s existence. In this moment, as well as in the conclusion of the first section, he encapsulates some of the film’s major themes.

Dancing in the Street

The movie’s second act significantly changes tone to a happier and more upbeat outlook. A busker (Taylor Gordon) beats out a song on her set. Chuck (who is now an adult) enters the scene. We get a brief read from the Narrator as he drops his briefcase and starts jiving to the rhythm. He invites a young passerby, Janic Halliday, to join him in the dance. Soon, the two are the highlight of the street, with people gathering around to watch them. This is a high point of the film. Tom Hiddleston’s and Annalise Basso‘s amazing dancing skills are showcased brilliantly.

Don’t Go in the Attic

However, the meat of the film is found in its final act. Featuring Mark Hamill as Chuck’s grandpa, Albie, and Mia Sara as Sarah, his grandma, the last act focuses on a younger version of Chuck (Benjamin Pajak), as he endures the pains of adolescence. Pajak, like Hiddleston, is a natural on the dance floor. He has several dance scenes, which he makes the absolute most of. He also has such a warm and inviting presence; he’s immediately likable.

Chuck's grandpa (Mark Hamill) pulls in Chuck for a hug

Grandpa Albie warns our young hero about the cupola at the top of their Victorian house. There is a locked door that should never be opened. Grandpa warns him that the floors are uneven, that there are ghosts. But savvy viewers know that when a locked door is featured, it will eventually be unshackled. What it leads to sets the final thesis statement of the film, proclaiming that life, even when short, is worth living. The waiting is the hard part. But you don’t have to just wait.

An Unconventional, Yet Sweet Tale

All three of these acts combine to tell an unconventional Stephen King and Mike Flanagan film containing a multitude of ideas. And while I largely connected with its themes, I had trouble relating to it emotionally. It ended up being more of an intellectual exercise than a captivating film. As Vanity Fair‘s Richard Lawson argues in his review, Chuck remains a cipher throughout the majority of the piece. We don’t get to know him much when he’s an adult, and we barely get to see his inner thoughts as a child. Pajak does some wonderful character work, as do the rest of the actors. Yet for all the sweet moments, I was not moved like I expected to be.

I suspect this is a flaw in the film’s adherence to King’s three-act narrative structure, as used in the novella. I haven’t read the material, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t leave much room for character development either.

Still, this one kept my attention and put a smile on my face. And the mood was striking, especially in that first act. For that, I’ll give The Life of Chuck a final score of