Stephen King's mediocre vampire makeover

Long before “True Blood” or “Twilight” brought vampires to small-town America, horror author Stephen King imagined the creatures invading his backyard in rural Maine (technically a fictional place called Jerusalem's Lot). Until then, blood-sucking bat-men were something only Europeans had to worry about, as Dracula and his castle dwellers preyed on hapless villagers halfway across the world. Then came “Salem's Lot,” King's second novel, in which the man who made witches a modern concern with “Carrie” asked American readers: What if your community were hit by an outbreak of vampirism?

A tepid new (technically delayed two years) feature version addresses this question half a century later, offering flashes of style and a more satisfying finale in an otherwise weak take on the dated source material. While King seemed to bring another stuffy old genre into the present, writer-director Gary Dauberman's retro-leaning adaptation goes in the opposite direction, tapping into its pageboy hairstyles, polyester-blend dudes and “trust no one” paranoia era back.

The film is set in 1975, the same year that Salem's Lot was released. You can guess the time from the movie titles posted on the awning of the local drive-in theater – “The Drowning Pool” and “Night Moves” – and the classic Gordon Lightfoot ditty, the lyrics of which now serve as a nightly warning: “Sundown, you better watch yourself / When I see you sneaking around my back steps.” The problem is that the vampire story has evolved so much in the past few decades that Dauberman's version seems quaint and not nearly as frightening as that one earlier miniseries by Tobe Hooper (it's better to pretend the 2004 attack didn't happen).

I haven't seen Robert Eggers' “Nosferatu” yet, but I suspect that even this silent film remake won't feel as dated as “'Salem's Lot,'” in which the characters look to comics for instructions on how to fend off the undead: through the use of holy water and crosses that glow white in their presence. These days, the sight of someone fending off a vampire with a crucifix made of tongue depressors glued together seems silly, while I've heard stories of kids watching “Salem's Lot” on TV and carrying popsicle sticks for the purpose.

By the way, the main vampire here, a bald coffin-dweller named Kurt Barlow (Alexander Ward), is much more reminiscent of Count Orlok from Nosferatu than the old Dracula. That's an indication that this is essentially an update of the miniseries, rather than a return to the source, where King clearly had Bram Stoker's sophisticated shapeshifter in mind. An even clearer sign is the familiar silhouette of Marsten House, the Victorian-style murder mansion purchased by Barlow's assistant Richard Straker (Pilou Asbæk). It is an iconic estate from which he can carry out his plan: to transform every single resident of Jerusalem's Lot into the image of his master (i.e. turning them all into vampires).

Moderately successful author Ben Mears (Lewis Pullman), who grew up in the area, returns to “Salem's Lot” around the same time as Straker opens an antique shop downtown. Both men have skeletons in their closets, although only Straker's is taken literally, as in the opening scene we see Barlow's coffin being transported on his orders – a missed opportunity mood setter in which the two delivery men are never heard from again and nothing from them sounds sent in a remotely memorable way. They simply do their job and then disappear, as King wanted the first two victims of the story to be children: the Glick brothers Ralphie (Cade Woodward) and Danny (Nicholas Crovetti).

This takes “'Salem's Lot” in a familiar “It”-like direction, as little boys are directly endangered by a far more powerful supernatural phenomenon – which makes sense, since Dauberman wrote the two-part reboot of “It” (plus five films). in the Conjuring universe). However, these vampires just aren't very intimidating, despite some nifty upgrades, including eyes that glow gold in the dark and a trick that appears out of nowhere where the camera pans back and forth to spot them on the rooftops of local buildings.

After Danny is kidnapped, new-to-town teenager Mark Petrie (Jordan Preston Carter) vows to hunt down the vampires – a promise that is both reckless and understandable. Although significantly shorter than the two TV versions, Dauberman's film begins clunkily, as if some scenes had been cut out in search of the right flow (e.g. Mark's parents do not appear until Barlow kills them late in the film). Straker appears noticeably creepy from the start, standing next to Mark and the Glick boys with an extravagant “Greetings, young masters.”

In horror films, characters often don't know what they're dealing with and react to zombies or vampires as if such creatures weren't staples of pop culture. Here, Mark and the principal (Bill Camp) recognize the threat relatively quickly by making wooden stakes out of whatever is at hand – a chair leg, a baseball bat – and impaling their attackers on them. They hire Ben and his librarian girlfriend (Makenzie Leigh), as well as the skeptical local doctor (Alfre Woodard, who just says “That's shit!”) and an alcoholic priest (John Benjamin Hickey). Still, it's these six against almost the entire city, as vampirism spreads faster than the most insidious coronavirus.

On the whole, Dauberman has made a by-the-book adaptation, with a few diversity-focused tweaks and a plot twist or three to keep audiences on their toes. For example, Straker cuts the story short prematurely, paving the way for another character to become Barlow's servant. And then there's the climax, back at the drive-in, where the setting sun behaves in strange ways. It's heartening that a giant outdoor screen that has saved movies during the pandemic could potentially save humanity. However, given the junkie look of this film's visual effects, it's a good thing that “Salem's Lot” is headed to streaming, joining the two miniseries in the small screen graveyard.

“Salem's Lot” will stream exclusively on Max starting October 3, 2024.