Pet Sematary.

One of the darkest of Stephen King's novels, Pet Sematary has already been adapted to the screen before, the original Mary Lambert film (which I haven't seen) celebrating its 30th anniversary this year. But time has not been kind to that movie for many fans of King, and in the wake of King's recent golden age with It, it seemed a perfect candidate to resurrect. Maybe this time it'll work. Sometimes remade is better.

And I can definitively say "no," in this case it wasn't, because this new Pet Sematary is a cluster of wasted potential.

What's most immediately uncharacteristic about the film is how lacking in scare factor it is, your first red flag right off the bat, given horror is King's signature genre. Not that it lacks for trying, because the film does attempt to establish some level of atmosphere, and so does at least lend the newly bought farmhouse and the surrounding woods an eerie vibe. Some of the more promising segments of the film come from the central family discovering their new ground, and being unsure of what may be awaiting around the corner, or beyond a barrier. It's fear of the unknown, classic, but effective, and could have tied nicely into some of the more overt thematic strands of the script.

But that would be too much, because this movie isn't interested in just letting its atmosphere take shape and breathe. Making a very unwelcome return are the obligatory horror movie jump scares, at a point where I thought we were well past such cheap tricks, or if we weren't, we at least put some skill in them. It almost becomes a constant running gag, with several stretches of characters walking slowly in complete silence, followed by cranking up the volume a dozen notches. Say what you will about It, which itself had a number of said jump scares, but at least that movie had other ways of scaring you. Here, it's almost all they have in their arsenal, feeling less like a claustrophobic chamber piece, and to me felt like a straight version of "The Mirror" SNL digital short.

The acting of the film is decent, but there's only so much that great actors can elevate the material handed to them. The adults of the film have some especially effective performances, with a solid Jason Clarke as the father Louis grappling with his belief that death is the final adventure, Amy Seimetz as his wife Rachel trying to hold to the belief of something more awaiting us (sometimes as a coping mechanism for her grief), and John Lithgow's elderly neighbor Jud Crandell, the man who shows Jason Clarke's Louis the power of the sour ground, which brings dead souls buried under its soil back to life.

But these actors, talented though they may be, are undercut by some awful characterization and plot decisions. Perhaps this makes more sense in the book (but this is a film, so it should make sense regardless), but I don't get why Jud would even show Louis the power of the ground. From firsthand experience, he knows how dangerous it is to rely upon its intoxicating power, first using it to revive Church, the cat of Louis' daughter, and returns as a vicious husk of his former self (incidentally, it's the most realistic portrayal of a cat ever put to film). The intent seems to be that Jud knows the danger, but his hope is that by doing so, this time it won't backfire. But even as metaphor, and to jumpstart the main conflict, it makes no sense for him to do this, and yet he persists anyway. But I'll admit, that is a somewhat petty personal thing.

What isn't a petty personal thing is how little regard this movie gives to anything and everything in relation to basic narrative coherence, and taking any interest at exploring their weighty morality plays. For the most part, the film is quite faithful to the outline of the original book, but manages not only to lose its spirit, it makes some of its original components and haunts feel inconsequential. All throughout, Louis is haunted by the specter of college student Victor Pascow, serving as his exposition piece warning him against using the burial ground, but he doesn't feel at all naturally integrated. He feels bolted on, only existing to serve repetitive warnings. Rachel is also haunted by the grief felt at the hands of her sister Zelda's death, who was bed-ridden as a result of her spinal meningitis. Talk about repetitive, as this comes back incessantly through the film as fever dream visions, but it doesn't feel relevant or essential, so it's no surprise that the film doesn't even bother to give it a natural resolution.

But it didn't have to be that way, because bad as all of that is, once we get into the last act, things take a turn for the absolute worst. This new Pet Sematary makes several major deviations from its source material (some of which have been spoiled in marketing, so don't watch any trailers), and while that could have made for decent expansions to make this movie its own, ultimately it just brings the entire film down to its knees. The more drastic changes come in the last twenty minutes, where the film has outright abandoned any semblance of atmosphere and cautionary tale of challenging death, and completely flies off the hinges as it crumbles under the weight of its brainlessness, robbing the story of *any* sense of emotional investment and enrichment. And the final scene is hilariously awful, concluding on the most basic, predictable, idiotic final note you could possibly give a movie like this.

As a result, this doesn't even feel like a true King story. It certainly wants to fool you into thinking it is, taking so much inspiration from the book, and even carrying a number of outside references to King's other books and adaptations. Outside of obligatory Maine references, Derry from It gets name dropped on a road sign, while the film opens with a callback to the opening helicopter shots from Stanley Kubrick's The Shining. But all that really does is apply window dressing, because in spite of the pedigree, none of the spirit has been recaptured. No nuance, no personality, nothing that would in any way indicate this was a King product if it weren't explicitly stated. It's seriously one gratuitous panty-shot away from being indistinguishable from those Platinum Dunes cheapies.

Even if you're a fan of King's work, I can't in good conscience recommend this movie to anyone. Even for horror devotees, there are much better movies out there that are more worthy of your time. Obviously I can't tell you not to watch it if you really want to, but if it were me, I'd sooner say go see Jordan Peele's Us a second time before you watch this for a first. It's the perfect embodiment of its own tagline, that it's better to leave something dormant than bring it back in such a mangled state. Way to take a genuinely dark and disturbing source material, and render it a great big joke.