Doctor Sleep: Adequate adaptation raises questions of faith

by Ted Giese

In Doctor Sleep, Dan Torrance, a hospice orderly and recovering alcoholic, has a psychic connection with a young teen girl, Abra Stone, that escalates when a nomadic group of gypsy-like psychic vampires called the True Knot led by matriarch Rose the Hat, become aware of the girl’s supernatural abilities. Directed by Mike Flanagan’s, the film adapts the 2013 sequel to Stephen King’s book The Shining. It is also an attempt to cinematically dovetail Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 adaptation of The Shining—which King famously and publicly dislikes—with the King’s 2013 Doctor Sleep.

Torrance and Abra Stone share the same sort of abilities called “the shining.” As a child, Dan learned how to deal with his abilities from a chef at the Overlook Hotel, Dick Hallorann, who passed on what his grandmother taught him when he was young. In Doctor Sleep, Dan becomes Abra’s teacher.  Halloran, who likewise shared a little of the shine, warns young Dan about ‘hungry devils’ who eat the shine off of people like them. From the beginning of the film, viewers are alerted to the danger Rose the Hat and the True Knot pose to kids like Abra. They identify, abduct, torture, and murder them while feeding off of the pain, misery, and fear they inflict. Members of the True Knot eventually waste away and die if they don’t feed; if they do feed, they “stay young and live long.”

Since Abra is exceptionally powerful in her abilities she becomes the Moby-Dick-like “White Whale” to Rose the Hat’s Captain Ahab-like obsession in her search for what they call “steam”— a supernatural mist that leaves the body during times of torment and death. To Rose, Abra is “big steam” since the True Knot is starving and almost out of their extra supply which they keep in canisters. In the past, feeding was easier for the villains because there was an abundance of children and adults with the shine. But in the modern world the supply is diminished, making Abra a target.

Unlike many horror-film monsters, the True Knot hide in plain sight, posing as free-spirited RV enthusiasts. But like vampires, from time-to-time they will turn a human with the shining into one of them. This happens early in the film to a character they call Snakebite Andi. But Abra is not one they want to turn; her power is dangerous to them, so they want only to consume her “steam.”

The Genre of Horror

Not everyone enjoys Stephen King or horror in general but it’s good to remember that as a genre, horror finds its traction in the minds of some readers and viewers in two key ways: 1) It subverts ordinary familiar things into something fearful by playing on innate paranoia. Basically that thing, whatever it is, wasn’t frightening before but is now because it’s been twisted around and turned on its head causing anxious thoughts or feelings of dread.

2) It takes something horrific like murder or death and refuses to blink or look away, inviting the reader or viewer to think about the horrible thing presented. While Christians will want to avoid delving deeply or obsessively into the contemplation of evil, sometimes it is wise to honestly consider the raw unpleasant realities of evil in our world. King puts the flashlight on such evils, and is a careful observer of human nature.

While Christians will want to avoid delving deeply or obsessively into the contemplation of evil, sometimes it is wise to honestly consider the raw unpleasant realities of evil in our world.

King would likely agree with Jesus’ description of human nature: “What comes out of a person is what defiles him. For from within, out of the heart of man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person” (Mark 7:20–23). For King, horror can just as easily come from inside a person as it can come from outside a person.

Over the last 40 years rumors and evidence of child abduction, abuse, exploitation, and murder have perennially come to the public’s attention. Lone individuals and even organized networks of like-minded people have perpetrated horrific and evil acts. Strip away the supernatural gypsy-vampire mythos that King concocts around his villainous Rose the Hat and her True Knot companions and viewers will see a real evil existing in a very real world. Such people may not be riding around in RVs together but they often hide in plain sight.

Before levelling accusations of overreaction, readers should remember that law enforcement regularly arrests and convicts people of abducting, harming, and murdering children. While the perpetrators may not be inhaling a faux supernatural visible vapor of pain and suffering from their victims (as in the film), they are committing grievous sins which, even if they are not part of a twisted ritual, have a spiritual dimension to them. King’s 2013 novel addresses this thoughtfully but Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep doesn’t take the time to wrestle with this aspect of the horror. However, Flanagan does include the True Knot’s very uncomfortable abduction and murder of ‘Baseball Boy’ (Jacob Tremblay) which is also found in King’s book. But while readers can mute the severity of what they are reading, viewers in theatres do not have the same freedom. Overall, the True Knot are presented as semi-supernatural beings just trying to survive at any cost. The inclusion of that scene is important to establish that these are not simply misunderstood ‘people’ but are unrepentantly evil at their core. Flanagan could, however, get that across with a less graphic depiction.

Ghosts from the Past

Doctor Sleep is also a story about haunted lives and places where the ‘ghosts’ of the past must be addressed. These are themes familiar to Flanagan, as he explored them in 2017’s adaptation of Gerald’s Game for Netflix along with Shirley Jackson’s 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House in 2018—a book which influenced King when he wrote The Shining. But while Flanagan had more than ten hours to flesh out the addiction storyline in The Haunting of Hill House, in Doctor Sleep he has only a couple hours. As a result, the recovery storyline King wrote for Dan Torrance, son of the bad-tempered and violent alcoholic Jack Torrance in The Shining, is not as nuanced in the film (even if it is still a positive portrayal of addiction recovery). It would have been interesting to see how a ten-hour serialized version of Doctor Sleep would play out in Flanagan’s hands.

The casual viewer of Steven King adaptations will likely appreciate Flanagan’s work on Doctor Sleep. Avid readers of King’s books, however, may take umbrage at some of the streamlining. Removing some characters and plotlines to serve the runtime of a theatrical film dampens aspects of Dan Torrance’s addiction recovery story and the underlying fear that while a person can run from themselves, they can’t escape their own shadow.

Another change also has a big impact on the film. King’s book reveals that Abra is actually Dan Torrance’s niece by a half sister with whom his father Jake had a drunken adulterous encounter. Dan then becomes afraid for Abra not just because of Rose the Hat and the True Knot but because she could sooner or later share in his family’s destructive behaviour—something he self-medicated to avoid with alcohol and then vigilantly fought against in his recovery. The combination of Abra’s anger and power is frightening to Torrance. Removing their family connection in the film cuts out almost all of this story, unfortunately removing some of the most compelling parts of King’s book. It also removes one of the threads that ties King’s The Shining to Doctor Sleep by reducing— even setting aside —the generational impact of evil.

Criticism of this type is valid because, even with its supernatural elements, Flanagan doesn’t rely on the tired and all too frequent use of jump scares so prevalent in today’s horror films opting for a more psychological approach.  Kubrick’s The Shining, while also clearly different from its source material, better accomplished this combination of supernatural and psychological horror. It may not be entirely fair to compare the two films but Flanagan’s re-use of elements from The Shining invites the comparison (Flanigan uses musical cues like the nearly 800-year-old Dies irae —“the Day of Wrath”— which Kubrick used in his film, along with replicating Kubrick’s art design for the Overlook Hotel and its ghastly guests and staff). Flanagan attempts to dovetail the old and the new for audiences, but his efforts are not seamless.

A major change to the character of Rose the Hat also hampers the effectiveness of the film. In the book Abra repeatedly sees her for who she really is. On the surface Rose is beautiful, but in King’s book she is occasionally revealed as having an unnaturally wide mouth with a single tooth, resembling a walrus tusk. Perhaps Flanagan thought this was a bridge too far for viewers or maybe the design team couldn’t accomplish the desired look to make it frightening and not silly on screen. Either way, the film version of Rose the Hat, while played pitch perfect by Rebecca Ferguson, lacks the grotesque monstrous quality necessary to fully realized her as a memorable villain. Perhaps this can be chalked up to ‘books can do things films can’t’ and vice versa.

Falling Asleep in Christ

Christian viewers should pay attention to Torrance’s work as a hospice orderly. While not a medical doctor, he is nevertheless referred to as “Doctor Sleep” because he acts as a kind of helper guiding people into a natural death, providing comfort by means of the shining. This contrasts with the True Knot who bring unnatural untimely death and distress to their victims. They bring suffering; Torrance brings rest and peace.

On a positive note, the film strongly advocates for an afterlife; Christians, of course, will want to be careful to remember where true comfort is found. One of the palliative care patients says to Torrance, “I’m not scared of hell. I lived a decent life, and I don’t think there is such a place, anyway. I’m scared there’s nothing.” To which Torrance responds: “But there is.” He quickly adds that he doesn’t know what exactly there is after this life but says this about the moment of death: “It’s just going to sleep, and when you wake up—you will wake up—everything will be better.”

The Bible repeatedly refers to those who have died in the faith as people who are “asleep” in Christ. St. Paul writes: “Since we [Christians] believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Him [on The Last Day] those who have fallen asleep” (1 Thessalonians 4:14). Christians watching Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep or reading King’s novel will have more than an agnostic half-truth to lean on when thinking about their death or the death of loved ones. They will also know that eternal life is not dependant on the merit of living a ‘decent life,’ as the dying man says to Dan, but rather on the work of Christ Jesus on their behalf and the forgiveness found in Him given as a gift (Ephesians 2:8–10).

Stephen King might be popular but horror films are not for everyone. But even setting aside the supernatural elements of Doctor Sleep, this film raises spiritual questions that Christians regularly need to address: the nature of evil and the falseness of man; the need to care for and protect those in danger; the proper care for the dying in their last hours; and the true nature of the afterlife.

Can these questions be contemplated without watching the film? Sure. Could Doctor Sleep be a better film? Yes. Is it a bad Stephen King adaptation? No. There are certainly worse adaptations of Stephen King out there.

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Rev. Ted Giese is lead pastor of Mount Olive Lutheran Church, Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada; a contributor to The Canadian Lutheran, Reporter; and movie reviewer for the “Issues, Etc.” radio program. Follow Pastor Giese on Twitter @RevTedGiese.

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