For a while, as a kid, I used to read quite a lot of Stephen King. Then at one point, I think partially because of some supernatural/religious experiences, I gave his stuff up, cold turkey. In a way, I just grew out of it. When you've run into the real thing, the fiction seems so much less interesting.

I like storms. I like snow. I like movies about storms -- snowstorms at least. I thought "The Shining" was kind of stupid, but I really liked the outdoor scenes, of that hotel (which is actually right next to a McDonald's) appearing to be in the middle of no-where. I also like movies about storms at sea, like "The Perfect Storm."

So "Storm of the Century" seemed a natural.

And, on ambiance, it delivered. Power outages. Driving snow. Snow-covered walkways. Snowmobiles. Snowmen. All wonderful. And Maine is of course quite beautiful as well. Even when snow is involved.

Also, my father, his friends, their sons, and I used to spend a week on an Island in Green Bay, Wisconsin, living in the lighthouse -- with no electricity, only wood stoves and gas heat -- during deer hunting season in late fall. Sometimes it was snowing then, also. So I have fond memories of snow, large bodies of water, and islands. So it worked nicely that the story took place on fictional "Little Tall Island."

The opening scenes are appropriately scary: Some creepy Canadian-fisheman-looking guy shows up, knocks off an old lady, and then sits in her house watching TV and waiting to be taken into custody. For murder. And does odd things like showing off psychokinetic powers, and telling people about their hidden sins.

You know those paintings which don't look like much up close, but when you get further away, they make sense? Pointalism, like Seurrat?

Storm of the Century is the exact opposite. Up close, it looks like it makes sense. But when you pull away and look again, very little hangs together. Up close, it looks like realism. Far away, you've got cubism, with faces with extra eyes, arms coming out of noses, mouths in foreheads -- all that.

Last comment before the part with spoilers: At some point, King (or the director, who knows?) tries to make some of his characters be "religious."

But it's funny how this is done: Characters throw off random bible verses taken completely out of context, as though there were no actual principles in that book, just a jigsaw puzzle of out-of-context sayings, and whoever could think of the most won. At one point, they're debating whether a kid can go do something. The debate is won when the hero quips: "And a child shall lead them." Oh sheesh.

And of course, as you might guess, they made the (Protestant) clergyman a sexual predatory; a pedophile.

Okay, now for the part with spoilers.

If you haven't seen this, and plan to, go away now, okay?

King can't decide whether he buys into Christian theology or not. Near the beginning, the bad guy (Andre Linoge) is telling everyone about their hidden sins. He also describes people being in hell, punished in various ways. Stephen King also gives him a name which symbolizes a group of demons possessing a man.

On the other hand, in the closing scenes, he has Linoge disclaim all that, claiming to be neither a God nor devil, nor supernatural entity, just a sort of higher kind of biological creature. Well then, how did he know all the hidden acts of each person on the island committed so long ago? And what was with all the talk about hell? Was he supposed to be perfectly right about one, but wrong about the other?

And he claims he can only take what he wants if it's given freely. Yet the one he took wasn't given freely at all: the one who lost it never agreed to give it up at all: he never consented to a single part of the process. And what rules bound Linoge? Certainly, there were no natural rules constraining him from taking what he wanted, permission or no. So it would seem only a supernatural law could explain his behavior. But, then, again, he explicitly disavowed all that.

And why did the people townspeople believe he would keep his word at all? He didn't exactly seem to be the trustworthy sort. If his statements about himself were to be believed, he was lying about hell. I half expected it to turn out that the wrong thing to do was trust him. (Trusting the villan was always a bad move for the countless workers employed by the bad guy in James Bond movies.)

So the whole thing seems to remind of one of those nightmares you have, which seem so utterly real and sensible when you're having them, but, upon awakening and reflection, seem to be a set of disjoint events not connected by any coherant thread.

Which, interestingly enough, is exactly what King cites as his source of inspiration: his own nightmares. So perhaps that's to be expected.

Final note: This was a very looooong movie, taking two sides of the DVD. I suspect it was probably broadcast as part of a TV miniseries, or something like that. You might find this off-putting. On the other hand, I kind of enjoyed the length, since, again, I like snow.

Even fake Hollywood snow, apparently.