The Life of Chuck review: Stephen King adaptation is entertaining, imaginative and affirmative
The latest adaptation by Mike Flanagan is a real crowd-pleaser – even if schmaltz occasionally overrides substance.

Like Frank Darabont before him, Mike Flanagan is becoming his generation’s foremost film-maker-as-fan of Stephen King.
Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep and Gerald’s Game are faithful – perhaps to a fault – takes on the writer’s novels, channelling King’s feel for emotion, dialogue, suspense and shock alongside fitful echoes of his lapses into folksy woolliness.
Even Flanagan’s Midnight Mass, which was not a King title, summoned the spirit of King’s Salem’s Lot more keenly than the 2022 movie.
Flanagan extends this connection into a stirring riff on one of King’s non-horror novellas in The Life of Chuck, a crowd-pleaser in the heart-tickling vein – if not quite class – of Darabont’s The Shawshank Redemption.
Telling the story of a man’s life in reverse across three acts, the result is prone to sentiment and big swings that aim wide. But it also shares King’s sometimes generous empathy for character, flair for dialogue and rarely noted fascination with dancing.
Even if the result can trip over its hoofing feet, it’s not for want of sincere engagement with King’s tale.
In the opening act (or closing, depending on your viewpoint), Chiwetel Ejiofor plays Marty, a teacher trying to interest his class in Walt Whitman through the world’s dying days. As Marty reconnects with his ex (Karen Gillan) one last time, a mystery emerges: why does he keep seeing signs thanking a stranger named Chuck Krantz for "39 great years"?
We find out more in act two, where Chuck emerges as an accountant (Tom Hiddleston) in his late 30s. Chuck is facing tough times. But in the meantime he makes a spontaneous, joyful dance connection with a heart-broken woman to a street busker’s vigorous drumbeat.
Finally, in act three, we see how Chuck grew up in a possibly haunted house with his grandparents and learnt what his dancing feet were for.
These synopses only skate over the surface of the film, which also cogitates lightly on climate change, cosmic forces, time, choices, human connections, inner universes and the moonwalk. Its philosophies tend towards the homespun, but the musical rhythms of Flanagan’s direction help leaven the load and his way with actors adds plenty of unforced lift.
Although Hiddleston only features strongly in the central act, his performance pops with easy charm and warmth. Child actors Benjamin Pajak, Cody Flanagan and Jacob Tremblay acquit themselves well as younger Chucks, too, while Mark Hamill remains a talent to treasure as his grandpa.
Even then, a cameoing Matthew Lillard almost steals the show as one of King’s ardent chatterboxes.
It helps that Flanagan whole-heartedly embraces how and why King’s people talk so much. Even if their folksy wisdoms aren’t always that deep, King’s ear for vocal cadences ensures his words are a delight to listen to. Their desire to connect registers tangibly, and King’s facility for scares isn’t wholly neglected, either.
The opening sequence projects a kind of cosmic dread, while strange things occur behind a cupola door – a cousin to other ominous doorways in The Shining, perhaps – in the climax.
Schmaltz occasionally overrides substance in this end stretch, where the film’s questions about life and how to live it seem to crave a more elegant conclusion than the one that arrives. Taken as an accretion of minor-key moments and details, though, the film notches up many pleasures along the way.
Whether you accept that as a workable life metaphor or not, The Life of Chuck is entertaining, imaginative and affirmative enough to tempt a rewind to the beginning (or end), just to see whether it does all slot together.
For Flanagan, whose TV take on Carrie is also incoming, it’s another good reason to keep revisiting King’s deep well of stories.
The Life of Chuck is in UK cinemas from Wednesday 20th August 2025.
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