Stephen King’s Plague Mid-Pandemic
By: Fp Bardrick
Tags: Reading, TV Series, Book Recommendations, Books, Stephen King

The first episode of the limited series dropped on CBS All Access on Thursday, December 17th. “The End” follows three characters (four, if you count Campion, below) and spans about half of the book (but just for those characters). So far, the show is a masterclass in both bringing a story to the screen and in rebooting a property that has already been adapted.

The Stand’s first miniseries adaptation was aired on ABC in 1994. Both Rob Lowe and Molly Ringwald were in it, ’cause, you know, the 90’s. It was adapted by Stephen King himself, so it stayed pretty faithful to the original story.

That means that about half of the TV show is just watching over 99.9% of humanity die and then following the few survivors finding each other in the new American wasteland. The ’94 miniseries, like the book, is very linear.

In the new limited series, they seem to have decided that flashbacks and “five months earlier” moments can accomplish the same goal without having to spend hours straight watching people die. This, especially considering our current environment, feels like a good choice.

One of the most exciting parts of this adaptation is that it is set in modern times. That is, admittedly, also one of the creepier parts of this adaptation, especially when you realize that the majority of the show was made pre-pandemic. The book was first published in 1978, so modern technology (at least as long as most technology can function after the electricity cuts out) is an interesting addition to the work. I look forward to seeing how this progresses.

Now, lets talk about some of the specifics of the story, shall we?

Image: Goodreads

The world as we know it comes to an end because of one man’s love for his family.

That may seem like a nihilistic outlook. That may seem like I’m judging the referenced man, Charles Campion, harshly. I’m not. If Campion had been stationed at a missile silo, his restraint may have saved us from Nuclear Armageddon. But this particular soldier was stationed at a secret military base that was manufacturing biological warfare.

I think most people would have done what Campion did. He saw what this engineered plague could do, and when he saw it break the bonds of its laboratory life he hauled ass to his family, then hauled ass straight out of Dodge. Who can blame someone for trying to save their wife and baby?

Of course, he failed. They all died and he managed to infect everyone he came in contact with. It’s the beginning of the end and the world dies not with a whimper, but with a deep, guttural cough. Prescient, remember?

This plague he has set loose on humanity is know as the “superflu” as well as “Captain Trips” on the coasts. It is universally contagious and over 99.9% fatal.

Oh, and this story of the first infection of the superflu at the base and Campion’s sudden flight from his post? That all happens before page one of the text. Pages xvii-xxiv to be exact.

Photo by Matthew T Rader on Unsplash

In this first episode of the limited series, we follow Stu Redman, Frannie Goldsmith, and Harold Lauder (as well as Campion via flashbacks).

Stu is a good ‘ol boy from Arnette, Texas. He’s one of a group of men at a gas station that Campion runs into at the end of his journey. Stu, and the rest of the men from the gas station, as well as their families, are taken into custody and Arnette is quarantined. Stu is the only one that survives the week, and because of this he is given the guinea pig treatment by the United States government. To add insult to non-illness, he does this while hanging out with literal guinea pigs.

He is eventually taken to the CDC when there is a breach at the facility and people start getting sick. Of course, this eventually happens at the new facility as well, and he is left to find his own way out. In the show, he gets a chat with the commander of the facility, who is obviously sick himself, before he leaves. Fun fact, the commander is J.K. Simmons in a forlorn little cameo. He has a very “captain going down with his ship” moment before committing suicide in front of Stu. J.K. Simmons does what humanity cannot and ends, not with a whimper, but with a bang.

Frannie Goldsmith is the 21-year-old girl-next-door with the perennial plot device: unplanned pregnancy. In the book her mother very much wants her to abort the pregnancy, going so far as to threaten to throw her out and cut her off, while Fran wants to keep the baby. When Armageddon hits, there isn’t really another option available, considering all Planned Parenthoods are now no longer staffed. Keeping the baby, though, comes with its own concerns, considering the lack of OB/GYN’s or really any medical professionals in general.

While she is busy burying her beloved father, after he and everyone she knows succumbs to Captain Trips, she discovers she’s not the only person still alive in her sleepy little town. Harold Lauder, the younger brother of one of her best friend’s in high school, stops by for a chat.

Harold Lauder is a horse of a different color. He is the first character we follow in “The End”. Now, I get this from a television producer/director’s point of view. He has a huge role to play in the story, and by the end of the episode you know that it won’t be particularly positive. But what is truly interesting about Harold’s role in the show, thus far at least, is that he’s presented already. Going back to the book, he doesn’t make his entrance until page 299.

He is a prime example of the french braid I alluded to earlier. Stu was the first true plait in the book, the first bit of hair that will eventually sweep together the complex narrative into a manageable braid. The second was Frannie. Harold, though? He was something like the eleventh or twelfth. There are 298.7 pages until his name is even mentioned.

Harold Lauder is introduced with some of the least flattering imagery used in the entire book. We will eventually meet a man that resorts to cannibalism who is still infinitely more likeable then Harold.

Harold is the kid that had the most inappropriate crush on his babysitter, and made it her problem. He is the little brother that you caught sniffing your friend’s t-shirt that she “lost” at a sleepover. Harold is the kid in your high school class that made you flinch every time he pulled a softback book out of his trench coat. In August. Harold is the writer of manifestos and wasn’t picked as most likely anything in his high school class because the vote was split between “most likely to go to prison” and “most likely to burn down an orphanage”.

Leading the series with Harold is a brave choice, to say the least. He doesn’t have the charisma of, say, Tate Langdon in the first season of “American Horror Story”. Using another Stephen King property as a reference point, this would be like making an It television show and spending the majority of the first episode following Henry Bowers. Is he important to the story? Yes. Is he the “big bad” of the narrative? No. But is he a sympathetic character? Does anyone root for him at all? Absolutely not! He’s f*cking despicable, hell, even the piles of corpses have more class.

Really, Harold Lauder is just a little sociopath. He practices smiling in front of a mirror for crying out loud! He’s also in love with Frannie Goldsmith (or whatever version of love he can muster). This combination is not good for either Harold or Frannie, or really anyone else that they interact with at any point. He sees that the only two people that survived from Ogunquit were himself and Frannie, and he takes this as divine providence (not in those words, he’s too erudite and edgy to believe in divinity) that Frannie should be his in the most possessive way possible.

As Frannie is her own person, not to mention very much not in love with Harold, this becomes chafing immediately. It doesn’t help that she quickly falls for Stu when they meet. This leads to a third act betrayal in the book, which is not at all surprising. In the limited series, it is actively foretold within the end of “The End”.

The penultimate scene is a voice over of Harold as he writes his plans to kill Stu. And maybe Fran is well. What would the narrative be without a little coyness.