The Shining Reviews

Warning: Spoilers
The Shining, you know what's weird about this movie? This is the movie that everyone, for people who claim to not like horror films, will always say that The Shining is a terrific film. This is Stanley Kubrick's classic vision of Stephen King's horror tale of madness and blood. This is just an incredible film and wither you have seen it or not, you have heard of it, know a few lines from it, and know some of the classic images. Who could forget Jack's "Here's Johnny!"? Who could forget "All Work and No Play Make Jack a Dull Boy"? Who could forget that chilling ending? This is the film that is unforgettable and honestly in my opinion is Kubrick's best work. I know there is a lot of argument in that department, a lot of people say it's 2001: A Space Odyssey or Clockwork Orange or even Dr. Strangelove, but if those film pioneered film making, then The Shining perfected it. This is the tale of isolation, madness, terrifying images, and the ultimate ghost story that will crawl underneath your skin.

Jack Torrance, Jack's son Danny, and Jack's wife, Wendy arrive at the Overlook Hotel on closing day. The elderly African-American chef, Dick Hallorann, surprises Danny by speaking to him telepathically and offering him some ice cream. He explains to Danny that he and his grandmother shared the gift; they called the communication "shining." Danny asks if there is anything to be afraid of in the hotel, particularly Room 237. Dick tells Danny that the hotel has a certain "shine" to it and many memories, not all of them good, and advises him to stay out of room 237 under all circumstances. Danny's curiosity about Room 237 finally gets the better of him when he sees the room has been opened. Danny shows up injured and visibly traumatized after Jack tells Wendy that he loves his family. Seeing this, Wendy thinks Jack has been abusing Danny. Jack wanders into the hotel's Gold Room where he meets a ghostly bartender named Lloyd. Danny starts calling out the word "redrum" frantically, and scribbling it on walls. He goes into a trance, and withdraws; he now says that he is Tony, his own "imaginary friend." Jack sabotages the hotel radio, cutting off communication from the outside world, but Hallorann has received Danny's telepathic cry for help and is on his way. Wendy discovers that Jack has been typing endless pages of manuscript repeating "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" formatted in various ways. Horrified, Jack threatens her and she knocks him unconscious with a baseball bat, locking him in a storage locker in the kitchen. Jack converses with Grady through the door of the locker, which then unlocks releasing him. Danny has written "REDRUM" in lipstick on the door of Wendy's bedroom. When she looks in the mirror, she sees that it is "Murder" spelled backwards. Jack picks up an axe and begins to chop through the door leading to his family's living quarters. "Here's Johnny!", and Jack's legendary image is born.

The Shining is one of those films that you seriously have to make time to see, this is an incredible film and still gives me nightmares. Jack Nicholson's performance is timeless and unforgettable. But one I also feel is extremely overlooked is Shelley Duvall, her scene of finding Jack's rant All Work is incredible, that's a look of horror and you can see that fear in her face after realizing her husband is mad. Also another incredible scene is when Jack sees a ghost woman in the bathtub, it's honestly one of the most terrifying scenes in horror cinema. The reason this film is so well known is because it's a film of perfection, it's been on The Simpsons, it's been shown in other films and it's a film that will forever stay with you when you see it, trust me.

10/10

Open-ended and inconclusive yet coherent and sweeping in its execution, Stanley Kubrick's ubiquitous horror opus harnesses and utilises perfectionism, perplexity and spatial awareness to achieve a hypnotic, deeply immersive cinematic puzzle. Implementing the distinctive, spacious, clinical visual style characteristic with Kubrick's oeuvre, "The Shining" exploits it to chilling effect. The ominous, dominating presence of the Overlook Hotel, where Jack Torrance is hired as caretaker over the winter months to reduce depreciation costs only to find he is somehow inextricably linked to it, is a composite of American hotels, albeit replete with anachronistic Native American motifs, incongruous modern touches, garish colour schemes and patterns; such exacting artistry and attention to detail generates misdirection, with the intentional layout discrepancies, anomalies and continuity errors in the hotel's interior construction functioning to disorient and deceive the viewer. Kubrick's technical mastery, complex narrative structure and exhaustively detailed production design are largely impenetrable, forging a deliberate sense of claustrophobia and foreboding that accelerates in pace and tension until the story itself reaches its seemingly predetermined and decidedly logical conclusion.

"The Shining" is a plethora of contradictions, from its agoraphobic and claustrophobic efficacy to the sheer expanse of the hotel despite its intricacy and confined, oppressive atmosphere. Kubrick's use of space and airless expressiveness impel dread and accentuate the more mundane aspects of the film, from the domestic simplicity and inert family dynamics, only examined focally once winter manifests in the form of an utterly treacherous snowstorm. Coincidental it may be, but Kubrick's positing of the storm being somehow serendipitous with Jack's descent into madness is highly suggestive of the true malevolent power of the Overlook Hotel, and serves to compound the viewer's discombobulation and dysphoria. Jack's inability to secure the collective fates of his family in line with his predecessor is also hampered by the storm, as he outsmarts them by removing their methods of escape, but is eventually circumvented by his wife and son's resourceful ingenuity and outside forces aware of the hotel's violent past. By elevating the elusive quality of the narrative, it is possible to scan its allusions, symbols and imagery; the subliminal is open for interpretation, however, it is viewing the film singularly whereby sections of it befuddle, especially its final shot. On the surface, the film resembles a ghost story with its baroque setting and malignant overtones, but its languorous framework and subtext force the viewer to surrender to its mood rather than its connotations and codes. And to truly experience the nuances and textures of the film in the correct perspective, it is advisable to fully succumb to the vivid, graphic imagery and performances on display; the so-called hidden meanings are so distant and intangible that its potent ambience is in danger of not being yielded to. Allow your intuition to take over; the story depicted by the astonishing cast members is simple, but what isn't is what lies beneath. Watch closely, but not too closely so as not to fall for the sinewy, sumptuous indirect genius of it all. Kubrick's inversion of Stephen King's novel decorates the film with subliminal messaging intended to layer the film with portents and inchoate exposition, but no amount of decoding will unlock any part of the puzzle. Heed my directive: the film is at once far less suspenseful if watched with an analytical mindset. It is in provoking the audience's baser impulses with his artful compositions that Kubrick succeeds, procuring the theatrical conventions of horror and injecting a dose of depth and substance for good measure. "The Shining" is a rare horror film that transcends its Gothic trappings.


Such suspense is maintained from the outset, from the Steadicam tracking of the labyrinth corridors and frozen hedge maze, Jack Nicholson's axe-wielding powerhouse performance, to the precise, jarring use of sound, all are now synonymous with film's vigorous impact, contributing to its continued popularity and reverence. However, the film does not require cultural genuflection to be considered a horror classic, and Kubrick's work is a testament to this, as most of his oeuvre has been reappraised rather than immediately acclaimed. "The Shining" terrorises its audience on a psychological level, even if the source of the evil manifestation is uncertain, specific images (or visions) that explicitly somehow possess a fragment of clarity and truth within the context of the story: the slow-motion elevator blood spill, Ursidae sex act, bludgeoned Grady sisters, Jack's face leering through the axed door, the endless typed reams of "All Work And No Play Makes Jack A Dull Boy", and most inscrutably, the beautiful woman transforming into a cackling old hag in Room 237. Driven to homicidal tendencies similarly to his predecessor, Jack is visited by him with the menacing suggestion that he has always been the caretaker and must reinforce this position by "correcting" his family due to their negative response to the malevolent forces entwined with the hotel. Jack's visitation in the luridly red bathroom is the dark heart of the story, brimming with peril, hostility and unease, intimating the theory that all men possess evil ready to be awakened, but the Overlook Hotel connecting with particularly damaged men already on the verge of insanity. Jack's soul is absorbed by the Overlook in 1921, ensuring the audience that the answers to this mystery are out of reach, and therein lies Kubrick's brilliance: he deftly unfurls a series of puzzle pieces, but never connects the dots or offers any kind of cogent explanation. Evidently, this is a haunted house with sinister inducements, but beyond the surface opulence and grandeur, the cold, imposing environs, disquieting metaphysical visions and occurrences experienced by its inhabitants conjure an incomprehensible world, aggregated and manifold to such an extent that even its embellishments and undertones adopt inexplicable significance, rendering the film entirely autonomous and mesmeric.

Unsettling and frighteningly surreal in its heightened aesthetic and unnerving tone, the paradoxical vastness and confinement of the interiors and exteriors entice the viewer, but the superficial elements interact with the implicit, culminating in a film that is as strangely disturbing and powerful in divisions as it is in its entirety. In accentuating the mundane and extraordinary, the different ways that the film can be interpreted are multitudinous. Kubrick's vision is ripe with alternately divisible, converging ideas and imagery, accentuated by the unique character perspectives composed with immaculate, innovative camera techniques; every inch of the frame retains a wealth of information, and with each viewing there are new details to examine and marvel at. Pedantically, the only discernible caveats herein indicate the time period, from politically incorrect dialogue and costume design, but on the basis of its addendum, facets and cognitive principles woven into a tapestry of emotional extremes and the unseen activity within its sphere, the film secures its unassailable position as an enduring work of meticulous artistry, a haunting masterpiece magnified by visual panache, ambiguities and an eerily impassive tone. In one fell swoop, Kubrick's underscoring of the thematic denotation of the film traces the distinctive set designs, evocative music and arresting imagery demonstrated in "A Clockwork Orange" and "Barry Lyndon", thus crafting a precision-made exercise in playing on the audience's fears until what is being presented to them materialises into a fluid series of episodes akin to a nightmare experienced differently according the individual and their specific insecurities.

Reconciliated with Kubrick. Terror movies has evolved in such way that Shining looks ok for me. Isolation and fatalism, psycho and evil; the two forces combine well, here. Nicholson presneted at least half of his tics.

I had already seen this flick but since it was really a while back, I was really eager to check it out again. Well, pretty much like anything else coming from this director, it is basically another huge classic but, to be honest, it doesn't really belong to my favorites. But even so, it is seriously entertaining, I think it is probably the most accessible movie directed by Stanley Kubrick and, once again, the directing was just amazing. On top of that, Jack Nicholson gave one of his best performances and the whole thing was indeed just spellbinding to watch. And, yet, somehow, it was still missing something to become truly amazing, at least, that’s my opinion. Eventually, the main issue was probably the fact that this movie is and remains a Stephen King story and, to be honest, I have never been a real fan of his work.  Still, I have always been amazed about how Kubrick has managed to lift up this material to such heights and among all these Stephen King books that has been adapted to the silver screen, it is easily one of the very best ones, even if King himself didn't like it at all. Anyway, to conclude, it is a classic and it is a must see for any decent movie fan, especially if you like the genre.

Alive with portent and symbolism, every frame of the film brims with Kubrick's genius for implying psychological purpose in setting: the hotel's tight, sinister labyrinth of corridors; its cold, sterile bathrooms; the lavish, illusionary ballroom. This was horror of the mind transposed to place (or, indeed, vice versa). The clarity of the photography and the weird perspectives constantly alluding to Torrance's twisted state of mind...Ostensibly a haunted house story, it manages to traverse a complex world of incipient madness, spectral murder and supernatural visions ...and also makes you jump.

Brilliant psychological thriller, and likely one of those adaptions that surpass the book. Kubrick has a nack for doing this after A Clockwork Orange.

The Shining
// Kubrick's magnificently capacious spooker capitalises on A Clockwork Orange's luridly colourful, bizarrely beautiful and often baroque production design; visually it is astounding, but delves further into logistical marvel and psychology than any of his previous works.
Such as the true nature of subtext has puzzled viewers for more than thirty years; Kubrick ditched the novel's formulaic horror elements in favour of an incipient study in the madness and ambiguous evil of Jack Torrence, a struggling novelist. With The Shining, Kubrick, akin to his poetic treatment of the ingenuity and folly of mankind in sci-fi masterpiece 2001: A Space Odyssey, elevated horror to a different plane, removing its silly campness and bogeymen to infuriate and bedazzle with sinewy suggestion and sumptuous, awe-inspiring technique. Technically and artistically, there is no better film in the genre. Its chills are less direct (that is until Torrance finally throws off the shackles of sanity), perhaps something deeper that creeps under the skin to unsettle and disturb but never for the reasons you think. It is not a film that can be easily forgotten as with most generic or sub-generic horror films, it is quite simply a masterpiece that will never be deciphered.
In accordance with the Kubrick legend, the process of making the movie took meticulousness to staggering levels — Shelley Duvall was reputedly forced to do no less than 127 takes of one scene; Nicholson was force fed endless cheese sandwiches (which he loathes) to generate a sense of inner revulsion, and the recent invention of the Steadicam (by Garret Brown) fuelled Kubrick's obsessive quest for perfection. The result is gloriously precision-made. The use of sound especially (listen to the remarkable rhythm qf silence then clatter set up by Danny pedalling his trike intermittently over carpet then wooden floor.) And that's not forgetting the procession of captivating images: a lift opening to spill gallons of blood in slow motion; a beautiful woman transformed into a rotting old hag in Jack's arms; the coitally-connected tuxedo and savage-faced human/bear staring ominously at Wendy; and, as a million posters now attest, Jack's leering face through the gaping axe wound in the door. Alive with portent and symbolism, every frame of the film brims with Kubrick's genius for implying psychological purpose in setting: the hotel's tight, sinister labyrinth of corridors; its cold, sterile bathrooms; the lavish, illusionary ballroom. This was horror of the mind transposed to place (or, indeed, vice versa). The clarity of the photography and the weird perspectives constantly alluding to Torrance's twisted state of mind. The supernatural elements are more elusive than the depiction of his madness. The "shining" itself — the title comes from the line "We all shine on" in the John Lennon song Instant Karma — is the uncanny ability to see dark visions of the truth (young Danny manifests the power through an imaginary alter-ego Tony). A power separate from yet entwined with the evil that dwells in the building (the whole family will come to experience it). The Overlook, sacrilegiously built on an ancient Indian burial ground (a minor point for Kubrick and stolen by Poltergeist), is haunted by evil spirits. When Jack enters the sprawling ballroom, he is entering into the building's dark heart (possibly even Hell itself): "Your credit's fine Mr Torrance." It's unclear whether it is Torrance's growing insanity that invites this or The Overlook itself taking possession of his soul. Grady, the previous caretaker, a man driven to slaughter his family (the source of Danny's disturbing second sight of the blue-dressed sisters) is another of Torrance's visitation states — "You have always been the caretaker," Grady suggests menacingly. The evil may have always been there in Jack, The Overlook merely awakened it. It's a question the whole film is posing: does the potential for evil reside in all men, just waiting to come to life? The final shot of Torrance trapped inside a photograph of the ballroom in 1921 hints at his destiny: he has become one with The Overlook — as he always was (death, you see, is never the end).
Perhaps the very reason it is held in such high regard lies in the point of Kubrick never explaining its genius - meaning that its focal power cannot be reduced.

Jack Nicholson’s face grinning menacingly through the axe destroyed door, an iconic image from one of the best and most important horror films of all time. Stanley Kubrick’s first and last horror film, The Shining is one of the most revered, quoted and well known films to have graced the art of cinema. As an adaptation, it has been claimed by many that Kubrick managed to put his own spin on the original novel by Stephen King. Many prefer it, others don’t. Either way you look at it, the film version is a vital and hugely significant classic, that paved the way for many mainstream horror films of the eighties, none of which could top it. The closest a film came to reaching its heights was the shocking and marvellous gore-fest that was The Evil Dead (1981), another one of my favourites.

The plot itself is simple. A man becomes the care-taker of a hotel during its winter season, bringing along his wife and young son. Whilst there, he sinks into madness, putting his family at danger. However, it’s the intricacies within the plot that makes this film more complex. For his seemingly unassuming son has a strange supernatural power, a power that gives the film its title. He is able to see more about the unsettling history of the hotel than anyone else, which allows the audience a gateway into the true terror that awaits.



The film manages to be truly scary and is up there with The Haunting (1963) as one of the most terrifying films of all time. Partly due to the physical points of the story and partly due to the non-digetic aspects of the film, it becomes a deeply unnerving experience. Combine horrific motifs such as the bloody elevators and twins in the corridor with the ear piercing score and isolating steady-cam tracking shots, we have a cocktail of atmospheric terror. The film comes to life through its macabre presentation. The rich photography and art direction gives the film a heightened sense of realism, being that the hotel feels incredibly real, in particular the scenes in which Jack is working on his type writer, light spilling in across the polished floor. The revolutionary and pioneering use of the steady-cam helps give the film a dream-like quality, or rather a nightmarish one. It is one of Kubrick’s best looking films, second only to the visual awe that is 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968).

The aesthetic qualities compliment and contribute to the scenes of outright horror, including the lady in the bathtub sequence, the ambiguously surreal bear-suit bj scene and the bloodied and mutilated twins in the corridor, which employs a use of sudden edits that truly heighten the fear and surprise of the scene. Meanwhile, the scenes of masterful suspense, such as the baseball bat sequence and most famously, the ‘Here’s Johnny’ scene, are filmed in a way that pushes the imposing sense of dread to the limits.



In terms of performances, Jack Nicholson steals the show. One of the finest portrayals of a maniac is cinema history, he is notable precursor to the flamboyant and eccentric characters such as Christian Bale in the adaptation of American Psycho (2000) and Heath Ledger’s Joker in The Dark Knight (2008), in addition to his own portrayal as the famous Batman villain in 1989.

Opposite him is Shelley Duvall, who is real crowd-splitter when it comes to her performance as Jack Torrance’s burdened yet tolerating wife Wendy. Many say she over-acts, many say she just can’t act at all, whilst others defend her performance. The latter seems to the most unpopular category, which I just happen to fall in. Whilst her performance isn’t amongst the greatest of all time, I think it does her character justice. She is meant to be, to an extent, annoying. She is meant to appear somewhat reverie. She comes across as a naive and weak. After all, aren’t we meant to feel that she is in danger? Her performance allows the viewer to have that allusion, to feel fear for her. Through this irritating quality, she becomes somewhat endearing, since she doesn’t feel all that deserving of the situation she is put in. As the ending of the film draws closer, we see how strong her character can be and the meekness that preceded it sets this up to be all the more heroic. I truly think Duvall doesn't get enough credit for her range, here.



As her son is Danny Lloyd, who delivers one of the finest child performances of all time. He fits the cutesy kid type, like that of Justin Henry in Kramer vs. Kramer from the preceding year, whilst managing to refrain from appearing too clichéd cute. He competently portrays the role without over-doing it and gives a commendably in-depth performance of a strange young boy. I feel that if this film had been made a decade or two earlier, Bill Mumy would have suited the role well, if his performances in Twilight Zone episodes such as It’s a Good Life and Long Distance Call are anything to go by. In addition to the primary cast, a well chosen collection of supporting actors gives the film further credibility, including the magnificent performance from Scatman Crothers.

The Shining is an unsurpassable masterpiece, with far more to it than its most famous scenes. A surreal, nightmarish feature that deserves all the acclaim it gets.

The scariest movie ever. The mood that Kubrick creates with the music selection, cinematography, and Nicholson's nuanced descent into mental isolation and insanity is so chilling and disturbing it's beyond words.