The suitability of Pierce Brosnan for the role of Mike Noonan, as the lead in "Bag of Bones" (2011) directed by Mike Garris, has been a hot topic among amateur commentators and professional critics alike. This miniseries, an adaptation of Stephen King's eponymous novel, has sparked much debate. One major gripe many have with the Irish actor, and there's some merit to their argument, is the seemingly shallow decision to cast him in a role that he dominates almost entirely.
His portrayal in this roughly three-hour adaptation of the Maine writer's tale, which apparently was another best-seller for King in 1998, has also been criticized for its lack of depth. It's undeniable, I must stress, that Brosnan could've delved deeper into such a dramatic character, especially given the ample screen time. We've been so used to seeing him in light-hearted roles like "Remington Steele" (1982-1987), as the "super spy" 007 in four installments (1997-2002), or in John Le Carré novel adaptations like "The Tailor of Panama" (1997), that it feels odd to see him as a grieving writer wrapped up in a ghost story. And I emphasize "ghost story" because, while King's work undeniably fits squarely in the horror genre (sometimes leaning into psychological thrillers or even sci-fi), this one flirts with drama. It could've been grittier if Garris had pushed the envelope, but he played it rather safe.
The thing is, Brosnan was the "chosen one." Perhaps it's no coincidence, considering his first wife passed away in 1991, and then in 2013, two years after his role in "Bag of Bones", his stepdaughter succumbed to the same illness as her mother. It's hard to gauge how much this real-life parallel might've influenced the producers' expectations. It wouldn't be surprising if the haunting pain of such profound loss created a palpable gap between Pierce Brosnan and Mike Noonan.
I won't make excuses for the overshadowing of secondary characters (including the villains) and their respective subplots, which I'm sure are fleshed out more comprehensively in King's original novel.
The plot does get a tad convoluted. It's caught between the punch of a standard 90-minute film and a longer series that could've better explored the intricate tapestry of stories King wove together.
To add to the mix, the screenplay by Matt Venne (and whoever else was on the job, as they seldom get a shoutout) crams so much information into the final act that it blindsides the viewer, creating a whirlwind of events and scenarios that's quite dizzying.
What struck me in several reviews is the flak one of King's go-to directors has caught, with many accusing him of overly sweetening a story that demanded a more distilled horror approach. In essence, they argue there's too much drama, reminiscent of the '90s trend in fantasy cinema that sprinkled feel-good vibes on characters who were once the embodiment of pure evil. Think "Dracula" (1992) by Francis Ford Coppola or "Frankenstein" (1994) by Kenneth Branagh. Both films, nodding to their original authors in their titles, championed this more romantic, adventurous, and even epic vibe. "Bag of Bones" isn't quite in the same boat, but if Garris decided to soften the edges, with King's blessing no less, there's probably a good reason. It's more in line with films like "What Lies Beneath" (2000) by Robert Zemeckis, starring Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer.
Technically, the film is on point; the cinematography does justice to the gothic settings blended with the old-world charm of lakeside cultures. This backdrop, rich in ghostly tales, contrasts sharply with the bustling city life from which our writer protagonist hails. The score by Nicholas Pike, in my opinion, is decent but not outstanding. And I can't help but roll my eyes at some of the rather basic special effects, which, as other reviewers have pointed out, border on laughable at times. I also found the blue-tinted, spider-woman-esque ghostly figures, reminiscent of early 2000s Asian horror flicks like "The Ring" or "The Grudge", a bit clichéd.
For those who prefer shorter films, fearing they'll nod off during anything over 120 minutes, the first half of "Bag of Bones" feels stretched, leading to a rushed second half with murky revelations. These swift conclusions can throw off those not in the know, much like the twists and turns in mystery series like "Poirot" (1989).
Often, movies and TV films follow a pattern: a slow start followed by a rushed climax. It's as if, after lulling the viewer into a near slumber, the creators try to jolt them awake, hinting that the best is yet to come.
Diving into the symbolism of the characters and settings, it's fascinating to see King's (and by extension, Garris's) projection of our collective fears, anxieties, and challenges. At the heart of it all is the image of the homo creatus (the artist, the writer), trapped between past traumas and future uncertainties, epitomized by the "writer's block" following his wife's death. The lake symbolizes the unconscious realm where we "bury" our unresolved issues, inherited from ancestors who rejected or even killed what was new or different. Enter Brosnan's character, thrust into the thick of it, tasked with breaking the curse. He's at the crossroads, following clues left by his late wife, both when she was alive and after her death.
Like any horror movie hero, Brosnan needs a medium. Plot demands place her in the "beyond," following a tragic accident where she's hit by a bus (I won't delve into the moot point of whether King's original had a different cause of death).
I reckon (and this is pure speculation) that Garris's choice to send the protagonist's loyal wife to the other side in such a dramatic fashion was to amplify the trauma's impact. Not as a paralyzing event, but as a catalyst for change. Her untimely death, and subsequent existence in limbo, serves as a bridge between Noonan and the spirit world, guiding him to uncover the truth. This need for her final redemption might stem from hints of infidelity suggested in the script, especially when Noonan, potentially sterile after a semen test, discovers she's pregnant just before her tragic end. This moral twist in the narrative forces her to play the role of a conduit between Noonan and the spirits, helping him navigate his journey, confront his own demons, and bring peace to a haunted community.
His portrayal in this roughly three-hour adaptation of the Maine writer's tale, which apparently was another best-seller for King in 1998, has also been criticized for its lack of depth. It's undeniable, I must stress, that Brosnan could've delved deeper into such a dramatic character, especially given the ample screen time. We've been so used to seeing him in light-hearted roles like "Remington Steele" (1982-1987), as the "super spy" 007 in four installments (1997-2002), or in John Le Carré novel adaptations like "The Tailor of Panama" (1997), that it feels odd to see him as a grieving writer wrapped up in a ghost story. And I emphasize "ghost story" because, while King's work undeniably fits squarely in the horror genre (sometimes leaning into psychological thrillers or even sci-fi), this one flirts with drama. It could've been grittier if Garris had pushed the envelope, but he played it rather safe.
The thing is, Brosnan was the "chosen one." Perhaps it's no coincidence, considering his first wife passed away in 1991, and then in 2013, two years after his role in "Bag of Bones", his stepdaughter succumbed to the same illness as her mother. It's hard to gauge how much this real-life parallel might've influenced the producers' expectations. It wouldn't be surprising if the haunting pain of such profound loss created a palpable gap between Pierce Brosnan and Mike Noonan.
I won't make excuses for the overshadowing of secondary characters (including the villains) and their respective subplots, which I'm sure are fleshed out more comprehensively in King's original novel.
The plot does get a tad convoluted. It's caught between the punch of a standard 90-minute film and a longer series that could've better explored the intricate tapestry of stories King wove together.
To add to the mix, the screenplay by Matt Venne (and whoever else was on the job, as they seldom get a shoutout) crams so much information into the final act that it blindsides the viewer, creating a whirlwind of events and scenarios that's quite dizzying.
What struck me in several reviews is the flak one of King's go-to directors has caught, with many accusing him of overly sweetening a story that demanded a more distilled horror approach. In essence, they argue there's too much drama, reminiscent of the '90s trend in fantasy cinema that sprinkled feel-good vibes on characters who were once the embodiment of pure evil. Think "Dracula" (1992) by Francis Ford Coppola or "Frankenstein" (1994) by Kenneth Branagh. Both films, nodding to their original authors in their titles, championed this more romantic, adventurous, and even epic vibe. "Bag of Bones" isn't quite in the same boat, but if Garris decided to soften the edges, with King's blessing no less, there's probably a good reason. It's more in line with films like "What Lies Beneath" (2000) by Robert Zemeckis, starring Harrison Ford and Michelle Pfeiffer.
Technically, the film is on point; the cinematography does justice to the gothic settings blended with the old-world charm of lakeside cultures. This backdrop, rich in ghostly tales, contrasts sharply with the bustling city life from which our writer protagonist hails. The score by Nicholas Pike, in my opinion, is decent but not outstanding. And I can't help but roll my eyes at some of the rather basic special effects, which, as other reviewers have pointed out, border on laughable at times. I also found the blue-tinted, spider-woman-esque ghostly figures, reminiscent of early 2000s Asian horror flicks like "The Ring" or "The Grudge", a bit clichéd.
For those who prefer shorter films, fearing they'll nod off during anything over 120 minutes, the first half of "Bag of Bones" feels stretched, leading to a rushed second half with murky revelations. These swift conclusions can throw off those not in the know, much like the twists and turns in mystery series like "Poirot" (1989).
Often, movies and TV films follow a pattern: a slow start followed by a rushed climax. It's as if, after lulling the viewer into a near slumber, the creators try to jolt them awake, hinting that the best is yet to come.
Diving into the symbolism of the characters and settings, it's fascinating to see King's (and by extension, Garris's) projection of our collective fears, anxieties, and challenges. At the heart of it all is the image of the homo creatus (the artist, the writer), trapped between past traumas and future uncertainties, epitomized by the "writer's block" following his wife's death. The lake symbolizes the unconscious realm where we "bury" our unresolved issues, inherited from ancestors who rejected or even killed what was new or different. Enter Brosnan's character, thrust into the thick of it, tasked with breaking the curse. He's at the crossroads, following clues left by his late wife, both when she was alive and after her death.
Like any horror movie hero, Brosnan needs a medium. Plot demands place her in the "beyond," following a tragic accident where she's hit by a bus (I won't delve into the moot point of whether King's original had a different cause of death).
I reckon (and this is pure speculation) that Garris's choice to send the protagonist's loyal wife to the other side in such a dramatic fashion was to amplify the trauma's impact. Not as a paralyzing event, but as a catalyst for change. Her untimely death, and subsequent existence in limbo, serves as a bridge between Noonan and the spirit world, guiding him to uncover the truth. This need for her final redemption might stem from hints of infidelity suggested in the script, especially when Noonan, potentially sterile after a semen test, discovers she's pregnant just before her tragic end. This moral twist in the narrative forces her to play the role of a conduit between Noonan and the spirits, helping him navigate his journey, confront his own demons, and bring peace to a haunted community.