THE SHINING

Enough has been written about The Shining: it has been both lauded as one of the greatest horror films of all time, as well as condemned as a silly, overstated mess.

The story is well-known. Jack Torrence takes a job as a caretaker in a hotel during winter, where his psychic son, Danny, able to see terrible visions of both the past and future, can sense the horror that is about to descend on them. Isolated, Jack succumbs to cabin fever, and is led by dark supernatural forces to violence against his family.

But The Shining, seemingly following a simple formula designed for commercial success, is in fact more complicated. Stanley Kubrick's imaginative directing lingers in the camerawork, one shot following Danny pedalling furiously on his tricycle, the noise of the wheel on wood deafening, the silence as it sails over the carpet eerily sinister. The claustrophobia is tangible. As is the feeling of utter helplessness he evokes in his shots of the enormous hotel lobby flooded in a wave of blood. How can it be cliched when it's so good?

Shelley Duvall, as Danny's mother, could not be more perfect for the role: she is so completely vulnerable and lovely that our fear on her behalf is unbearable. Jack Nicholson inhabits his character so naturally and whole-heartedly that his conviction makes the viewer almost uneasy.

There is no question that this film is a masterpiece - even Kubrick's handling of the supernatural elements avoid being heavy-handed, as he leaves it open-ended, giving the viewer the chance to decide what the hell's actually going on. He and his cast have created a film so iconic that generations have come and gone unable to produce anything even comparable.