Review of The Shining

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.