The Life of Chuck

The movie is maudlin and pessimistic and features a mildly sardonic voiceover narration by Nick Offerman that only serves to distance us from the action.

Although its unusual structure and smidge of Stephen King weirdness (it’s based on one of his novellas) saves it from being a complete washout.

Unlike horrors and dreams and fantasies, the imaginary world that dominates The Life of Chuck is utterly devoid of personality. The trickery of its creation is clever but impersonal for reasons that go beyond the story’s stiff detail-twiddling.

The Life of Chuck is by no means a bad movie. At times, it’s quite absorbing. The problem is that, for all its cosmic grandeur, the material is extremely literal-minded.

Flanagan’s pastiche of palatable comfort might be well-meaning and familiar. But in modern practice, The Life of Chuck is no more than a nostalgia tranquilizer, designed to comfort you after you roll your ankle on a two-step.

While it includes dark and tragic themes, it is a story of profound humanity, ultimately spirit-expanding.

Where “Life of Chuck” really succeeds is in passing the torch to others who help create the character (including Jacob Tremblay and Pajak). They’re just as invested and responsible for making this a film that can prompt viewers to reflect, too.

I love a film that makes you reassess life and the layers of our realities.

While it can feel like wading through muddy water as the plot unfolds like a ripened orange whose peel is being slowly swirled off with a sharp knife, there’s a perception of enchantment within the unadulterated sadness.

The Life of Chuck worked on me. I found it spellbinding.