Tuesday, 10 March 2015


I have an unhealthy interest in 'The Shining'. I also have this blog, so I'm going to combine the two things. Synergy, they call it, or is it therapy?

The Shining is a masterpiece of composition, as precisely put together as a Swiss clock. But it also has depth, even in its most meticulously engineered sequences. Take the scenes in Dick Halloran's Florida condo, where he is relaxing prior to unexpectedly receiving Danny Torrance's psychic SOS. The symmetry of the room, the careful, utilitarian colour scheme, the matching lamps, the piles of books, the records either side of the chest of drawers - Halloran is a man who clearly lives alone, perhaps held back from society by his peculiar gift. The erotic pictures are the clincher: he's not expecting anyone to ever share this room with him, so he can hang whatever he likes on the walls.

I like Dick Halloran, and I feel sorry for him. After all, he travels 2,000 miles by plane, car and snow cat on a mission of mercy, only to get hacked to death by a maniac two minutes after he arrives at his destination. Still, at least he left his place neat and tidy. Don't know what his executors are going to think about his art collection, though.

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