Stephen King Vampire Adaptation Review

Salem’s Lot has been a beloved Stephen King book for nearly 50 years, and has already been adapted twice. The Maine town whose quaint exterior masks an intense vampire problem finds its way back on the map thanks to Gary Dauberman’s new feature, originally slated for a theatrical release before being shuffled to Max. It offers a golden-hued nightmare that admirably commits to its 1970s setting, but doesn’t quite nail the elements that have made King’s story so enduring.

Perhaps it’s just that Salem’s Lot, a doorstop of a book as many King novels tend to be, isn’t suited for containment into a movie that runs under two hours (both previous adaptations were TV miniseries, and hovered closer to three hours). While there’s a clear protagonist—novelist Ben Mears, played here by Lewis Pullman (Outer Range, Lessons in Chemistry, Thunderbolts*)—the book also gives space to several other Salem’s Lot residents, introducing them and exploring their twisted inner lives. The reader has ample time to realize the place isn’t as wholesome as it appears even before a supernatural menace lurches into town.

King also devotes a lot of words to the most prominent landmark in Salem’s Lot: the Marsten House. The crumbling mansion with a tragic past looms over the town, broadcasting a constant reminder that darkness can fester in even the most idyllic communities. Its sinister allure is what draws Ben, who lived in Salem’s Lot as a child, back to town; it’s suggested along the way that the house is actually intertwined with evil itself, making it the perfect HQ for a traveling vampire.

If your first encounter with Salem’s Lot is Dauberman’s film, however, you might not pick up on… any of that. The Marsten House is part of the story, sure, but its importance feels reduced. Details about its history are relegated to a montage in the opening credits, a quick conversation or two, and some library microfiche scrolling. While it’s understood and even expected that any adaptation will take liberties with its source material, audiences should also be given enough detail that they can just sit down and enjoy a movie or TV series without having read what came before.

The characterization of Ben Mears is probably the biggest stumble in this take on Salem’s Lot. In the book, Ben is haunted by an encounter he had in the Marsten House decades ago after entering on a kiddie dare; he’s also grieving the far more recent loss of his wife. Both details are absent here. Instead, all we get is that Ben is a semi-successful author whose most recent book received middling reviews; he’s returned to Salem’s Lot, where his parents died 20 years prior, hoping that reconnecting with his youth will spark fresh inspiration. Pullman’s performance doesn’t add much depth; it feels like he’s skating across the surface, even as Ben’s drawn into a romance with the only cool girl in town (Makenzie Leigh as Susan Norton) and befriends local teacher Matt Burke (Bill Camp).

His circle further grows when, a week into his stay, the machinations of Richard Straker (Pilou Asbæk, unfortunately underused) and his vampire master, Kurt Barlow (Alexander Ward), escalate from “antique store opening soon” to “bloodsucking chaos,” and we meet Dr. Cody (a wonderfully wry Alfre Woodard), Father Callahan (John Benjamin Hickey), and tweenage horror fan Mark Petrie (Jordan Preston Carter).

They band together to fight back, but without the groundwork laid to suggest what’s happening in Salem’s Lot is a cosmic inevitability—the sheriff, played by the great William Sadler, declares at one point that the town is dying and that’s why Barlow settled there, an observation that seems plucked from thin air—it feels a bit like Ben just happened to pick the worst possible moment to visit.

There are other flaws in the script—there’s some heavy-handed foreshadowing, like a harmonica seemingly introduced solely so that it can provide a spooky sound effect a few scenes later—but Dauberman’s obvious affection for his setting, keeping Salem’s Lot in 1975 just like King’s book, is absolutely a positive here. The production design and cinematography stay true to the retro vibes, and the addition of a drive-in theater proves a period perfect detail that brings a nifty dimension to the story.

The special effects, however, don’t keep up the vintage feel, especially when it comes to one particularly memorable CG shot (you’ll know it when you see it). There’s definitely more gore than we’ve ever seen in a Salem’s Lot adaptation—an advantage of not being made for broadcast TV—but it doesn’t go over the top. Unfortunately, it’s never very frightening, with jump scares doing the heavy lifting and “Character X, why did you do that dumb thing?” supplying an awful lot of the tension.

And maybe that’s the general problem with this Salem’s Lot. It’s entertaining and it follows the general contours of King’s well-loved story, but it doesn’t bring much of anything new to the table other than the drive-in scenes. Without that sense of creeping dread—that the Marsten House is a focal point of unholy energy that’s been infecting the town for generations—it feels like an adaptation that’s both faithful but also curiously missing some of the most interesting parts.

It’s not a bad movie. It’s worth adding to your Halloween-season viewing queue. But watching it, you’ll understand why Warner Bros. opted for a streaming release—and likely agree with the decision.

Salem’s Lot arrives October 3 on Max.

Want more io9 news? Check out when to expect the latest Marvel, Star Wars, and Star Trek releases, what’s next for the DC Universe on film and TV, and everything you need to know about the future of Doctor Who.