★★★ (3 out of 4)
When “The Life of Chuck” debuted nine months ago at the Toronto Film Festival, the critics went mild but the crowds went wild, leading to this film adaptation of Stephen King’s novella winning the fest’s coveted People’s Choice Award. Taking that prize led to Best Picture Oscar victories for such previous Toronto winners as “Nomadland,” “Green Book” and “12 Years A Slave.” What are the award chances for the the decidedly more modest “Chuck,” which chose not to go for the gold last year? Time will tell, but so will your viewer support in a mega competitive summer.
It's always a kick predicting what a movie will or won’t do in the Oscar derby. The bigger question is: will “Chuck” play to global crowds the way it did to the 51st State? Oh wait, Canada passed on that honor. You definitely should not pass on the sweet surprises of “The Life of Chuck,” the tale of an ordinary guy named Chuck (Tom Hiddleston) told in reverse and in three parts, even while you wonder what horror maestro King is doing dishing out life-affirming bromides to an audience primed for monsters.
King fans know he’s showed his vulnerable side before, especially in “Stand by Me.” So stand by King and writer-director Mike Flanagan—the two collaborated on films of ”Gerald’s Game" and “Doctor Sleep"—and a TV retake on “Carrie” is on the books. Neither of these dudes are softies. The R rating for “Chuck” cites strong language, including frequent use of "f—k," mild violence and gore, as well as a depiction of a car accident that kills a child's parents. It sounds Disney—they’re always killing moms and dads (think “Finding Nemo”)—but it’s not.
Warning: you’ll laugh and maybe openly cry by the end leaving friends to mock you as a sappy pushover. Suck it up. But enough prelude. “The Life of Chuck,” narrated by Nick Offerman in lumberjack drag, stars the always watchable Hiddleston, the “Loki” star who seems genetically unable to give a lousy performance. He’s not on screen much longer than Keanu Reeves in the latest “John Wick.” But Hiddleston makes every minute count, even when he’s mostly seen on billboards that proclaim, “Charles Krantz, 39 Great Years! Thanks, Chuck!”
But who is Chuck? Patience, my children. You’ll know soon enough, but not from my spoiler-free lips. First King and Flanagan set the scene of a world in tatters. Oceans have flooded both coasts and fire is threatening everything in between, just like we see now on the news. Enter Chiwetel Ejiofar as Marty Anderson, a schoolteacher who’s boozing hard after divorcing wife Felicia (a wasted Karen Gillan) and futilely trying to read the signs of the coming apocalypse.
Got that? The second section goes back to before with Chuck in slightly better times. Despite his boring accountant job, he’s a people pleaser who sees the worst in us and ignores it. In the face of disaster, Chuck does what any cockeyed optimist would do—dance, dance, dance. The result is a showstopping, seven-minute dance number (with partner Annalise Basso) in which Hiddleston gyrates to jazz, swing, salsa, cha cha, Charleston, bossa nova, polka, samba and quickstep. The sequence doesn’t tell us about joy— it shows us how it looks, feels and moves. Get Hiddleston into a musical right this minute and put this sequence in the movie time capsule.
The plot? I almost forgot. Section 3 tries to explain it through childhood flashbacks to Chuck, alternately played by Cody Flanagan, Benjamin Pajak and Jacob Tremblay, as the kid navigates survival in the face of personal tragedy. The remarkable Pajak crushes his scenes with an award caliber Mark Hamill as Chuck’s irascible grandfather. There are poetic references to Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself,” about each of us containing multitudes. But the reach for meaning seems tacked on, when it’s the empathy for Chuck’s bruised humanity that feels most organic.
For all its good intentions, “The Life of Chuck” often stumbles and falls on its way to haunting our dreams. But haunt them it does. Flanagan channels the blunt honesty of King so the film isn’t as relentlessly lump-in-the-throat as it could have been. I’d call it a spin on “It’s a Wonderful Life” for the Trump era, when angels have a hell of a time getting their wings. Still, it’s no accident that this flawed, deeply felt film rings so many timely bells. Thanks, Chuck.