Ruminations

I started watching The Shining last night, because it was there, and I had to nope out after an hour (horror that depends on claustrophobia is not my jam), but before I reached the nope-out point I had time to notice was an absolute asshole the Jack Torrance character is. 

I guess that's toxic masculinity, and I'm glad the movie notices what a monster he is even before they go to the hotel, but what hit me the most this time is how miserable the father in this little family is, and how his hatred for his family and his misery at his life affects his family. Both the wife, Wendy, and the kid, Danny, have learned to lie to the father -- and to some degree to themselves -- in order to escape his emotional and physical attacks. The scene where Jack holds Danny on his lap and makes him say he loves his father and he loves the hotel and he's having a good time is just so horrible. 

Danny has to invent an imaginary friend just so he can speak the truth (Tony lives in his mouth, but he swallows him down whenever anyone tries to see him). Wendy desperately tries to keep Jack happy, hopelessly trying to predict the storms of his temper. Both of them, when they can escape Jack, are more or less competent, healthy people; but when he's around they cease to be able to function.

There's a saying that families are only as sane as their sickest member. What this movie does is take a family that is desperately trying to survive their sickest member and lock them in a bottle episode. That's what's terrifying. The ghosts and blood and all are just images of that terror.