“Thinner,” says the old man as he traced a line down the face of Billy, the ‘White Man From Town’ in Stephen King’s 1996 film.
Billy’s an overweight lawyer who ran down an old woman in the road when she came out of a store while he drove down the street distracted by getting fellatio from his wife.
“An accident is nobody’s fault,” he tells his daughter at the breakfast table the day he got off the charges by the good grace of friends in high places.
“He was as sober as a preacher.” in the words of the town constable. No one asked if there was any other reason his mind may not have been on the road.
But how can I feel for this man? Sure, he’s wasting away. It doesn’t look like it feels good, but he spends so much time griping that it was all really his wife’s fault.
There’s some subtext that she is having an affair with one of his friends – and that’s something to feel aggrieved about – but no man is going to hold a grudge about getting some while driving.
I expect that the book is a great beach read. The movie lacked something. It played too much like other bad Stephen King movies (Salem’s Lot, much of The Stand, The Langoliers, etc.)
IMDB got this one right. Rotten Tomatoes raters are much too cerebral to evaluate a film like this. It’s like asking a professional wine taster to give Boone’s Farm a chance.
22 Down, 78 to go