Grossly Overrated, But Not Without Interest

Rating: 4/10 (6 September 2009)

To paraphrase Frank Rich's assessment of Stephen Sondheim musicals, to be a fan of Stanley Kubrick is to have one's heart continuously broken. Considered by many to be a masterpiece of eerie, psychic horror, I've always found this picture to be an ambitious, yet pretentious, bore, with a shamelessly overacted lead performance by Jack Nicholson, one of the best actors of the past half-century.
While diverging substantially from the source material in the character department, Kubrick makes the fatal mistake of overindulging himself on his own concept -- the detachment from reality (or convergence with an alternate reality -- i.e, Jack merging into the "spirit" of the hotel) caused by isolation. For example, Kubrick repeatedly shows us shots of Danny (Danny Lloyd) riding his Big Wheel down the endless, cavernous hallways. What Kubrick confuses is the difference between conveying the tedium of the characters' lives with inducing tedium in the audience. The nearest parallel I can find comes in Henry Jaglom's "Broken Flowers", which derails substantially with the repeated (and seemingly endless) shots of Bill Murray's sideview mirror. This type of overindulgence reflects the inherent problem with a director like Kubrick, whose devotion to detail tends to overwhelm the need to keep the audience engaged.
Yes, I know the fame of the "Here's Johnny" and "Wendy, I'm home" moments. Yet these are comedic relief, not terrifying -- and the film really has only a few truly terrifying moments, one of which (i.e., when Shelley Duvall reads Jack's "work") is nearly submarined by the overly dramatic music. In truth, the few redeeming factors to the film are an engaging supporting performance from Scatman Crothers, and being able to spot some of the ideas Kubrick had in mind before he beat them into submission. Nonetheless, a true disappointment.