☙ A Reflection upon “The Langoliers,” on the Occasion of the 30th Anniversary of Its Debut ❧
Filed from the Remarks of Several Confounded Members of the Order
Adapted from a tale by the popular fabulist Mr. Stephen King and first exhibited some three decades past as a two-part teleplay, The Langoliers aspires to metaphysical terror but falters in its step. Though its ambitions are lofty—temporal dislocation, cosmic dread, the devouring of bygone moments—it is remembered not for its mystery, but for the curious folly of its visual execution. When canvassed, the Members of our Order were neatly split in their derision: one-third marked it with a B, one-third a D, and one-third an F. The mean result? A pitiable 1.6 upon 4.
The Tale as Told:
Ten souls aboard a red-eye voyage through the firmament awaken to find themselves alone—the remaining passengers vanished without trace. Upon landing at an eerily deserted airfield, they discover they have slipped into a half-world adrift from time, wherein the past is literally consumed by ravenous, grinding entities: the titular Langoliers. Though the premise conjures shades of speculative horror, the result is one of stumbles and squander.
One viewer minced no syllables:
“Heavens preserve us. Several among the cast are, I daresay, accomplished in other environs—but what unfolded upon that screen was unmitigated calamity.”
Another remarked with surgical disdain:
“The effects, sir, were lamentable in the extreme. Somewhere beneath this wreckage lies a tale worthy of reanimation—but what we beheld was a clumsy contraption, possessed of all the grace of warmed-over field rations.”
A third, no less damning, wrote:
“At times, the narrative lumbers like an overladen post-cart. A fitting score might have lent it vigour, but in truth it is the ghastly spectacle of the effects that consign it to perdition. A woeful enterprise indeed.”
Even the dramatis personæ did not escape reproach:
“Should some future imagining seek redemption, let it begin by excising both the precocious blind girl and the shrieking financier. Such characters are ballast best jettisoned.”
In the end, The Langoliers presents itself as a temporal enigma, but delivers a matinée muddle rife with unbidden hilarity. Whether regarded as failed masterpiece or cherished absurdity, it remains vivid—if only for the wrong reasons.
Final Consideration:
A tale devoured by its own devices. The only thing more dreadful than the Langoliers themselves is the spectacle by which they are revealed.
