Midway through its runtime, Mike Flanagan’s “The Life of Chuck” introduces a mantra of sorts, via a line of dialogue pulled from Stephen King’s eponymous story: “Would answers make a good thing better?” The implication therein is an emphatic “No,” which suits “The Haunting of Bly Manor” creator’s esoteric (and esoterically structured) drama on embracing life, death and cosmic mysteries. However, it also ends up proving this point in all the wrong ways, swerving in and out of a boorish literalism that robs the film of its most euphoric power.
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Like King’s story — one of four novellas collected in the book “If It Bleeds” — “The Life of Chuck” is divided into three acts depicted in reverse, each narrated by Nick Offerman. It kicks off with “Act Three,” which tells of the world falling apart from the perspective of a small American town. The internet has been on the fritz for months, and is on the verge of blacking out along with TV and cell service. Meanwhile, climate change has ravaged nearly every country (California has all but drifted into the Pacific), and suicide rates have skyrocketed, which leaves local doctor Felicia (Karen Gillan) trying to keep her head above water. And yet, Flanagan pulls off the herculean task of peppering this premise of rampant death with bursts of macabre and surreal humor, as Felicia’s ex, the schoolteacher Marty (Chiwetel Ejiofor), tries to convince nihilistic parents to keep educating their kids.
The most frequent topics of conversation in this town include the latest catastrophic news bites and people asking one another about the curious billboards they’ve seen, thanking a professionally dressed, bespectacled man named Charles “Chuck” Krantz (Tom Hiddleston) for “39 great years.” Is he a doctor? A radio host? A local TV personality? No one seems to know, but this is just one of many questions plaguing the movie’s characters — and, by this point, the audience, who will no doubt be wondering how this apocalypse came to be. However, “The Life of Chuck” is in no rush to provide linear answers, at least not at first. Instead, it presents thoughtful conversations between Felicia and Marty, who ruminate on not just the state of the world, but the very existence of humanity, now that society may be taking its last breath.
How the character of Chuck fits into this reflective, “Twilight Zone”-esque saga is a question left in limbo when the film moves onto “Act Two” — and eventually “Act One” — segments which actually do follow Hiddleston’s character. However, the film’s middle section is almost entirely composed of an impromptu dance sequence, in which a seemingly frustrated Chuck joins a heartbroken young girl, Lauren (Annalise Basso), in a spontaneous swing session on the street, to the tone of a drumming busker. Its actual connection to the movie’s earlier segment is, on the surface, nil, but it creates wonderful thematic resonance with its morbid predecessor, as a depiction of life lived to the fullest in spite of regrets.
The scene is distinctly un-Flanagan-like in nature, brimming with energy and positivity atypical of the horror maestro, but it’s incredibly assembled, with the kind of rhythmic framing and cutting reminiscent of someone who’s spent their whole career making musicals. Unfortunately, the film’s own music is seldom as propulsive or original, recalling the familiar notes of “Interstellar” and “The Social Network” without the sustained impact of either one.
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In its concluding segment, the movie follows Chuck’s childhood through a saccharine, wistful story in which his grandfather (Mark Hamill) becomes a vital focal point. The story deals with ghostly premonitions and a locked door to a secret, creepy attic — that’s more like it, Mike — but also with the origins of Chuck’s relationship to dance. To unveil much more of its plot would be a disservice to the film, but this final section also features echoes (through dialogue and production design) that ripple through the rest of the movie, creating little connections between past and present that imbue the movie’s mysteries with a sense of wonder.
Unfortunately, as it builds in this poetic fashion, “The Life of Chuck” also drops its other shoe, and inelegantly explains its previously mysterious connections between Chuck and the likes of Felicia and Marty. Where hints and fleeting implications might have sufficed, the movie proceeds to keep cutting away from its coming-of-age story to details that further emphasize its highly mechanical and literal-minded “reveals,” which slowly begin to consume the movie’s larger themes.
Until this happens, “The Life of Chuck” is filled with delights, from wild tonal shifts between horror and naked sentimentality that work with surprising precision, to a litany of fun supporting characters played by Flanagan regulars, and a general rejection of cynicism even in the face of despondency. But any romantic notions the film might have are swiftly undone when it starts to explain the disappointing method behind its sleight of hand — until this explanation becomes the magic trick itself.
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