A Tale of Two Flaggs

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Back in the day, if someone had tried to convince me to read a pseudo-religious epic with a four-digit page-count and a Deus Ex Machina ending without mentioning that it was penned by Stephen King, I’m pretty sure that I would have done my best to avoid that person (and the book) like the superflu. Luckily for me, I was already an SK fanatic with a fascination for all things apocalyptic when I first laid hands on an uncut edition of The Stand, and it ended up becoming my absolute favorite novel by the King of horror.

Inspired by the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, King's viral opus was originally meant to bring the mythic scale of fantasy stories to (then) modern-day America, with Christianity replacing Middle Earth's magical elements and country folk standing in for hobbits and elves. Of course, with the book telling the story of post-apocalyptic survivors who find themselves divided between following an aging prophet or a demonic tyrant after the earth has been ravaged by a plague, you’d be forgiven for assuming that this was yet another one of King's genre nightmares. After all, this contemporary fantasy story still includes plenty of horror elements, with its terrifying antagonist having been borrowed from King's own Dark Tower series and the gruesome imagery distancing the book from its Tolkien-inspired origins.

And with the author becoming a household name throughout the 80s and 90s, it made sense that adaptations of his work began sprouting left and right – including a highly anticipated CBS event series adapting The Stand back in 1994, helmed by frequent King collaborator Mick Garris. Like many made-for-TV King adaptations, the mini-series was pretty divisive among his fanbase, but it was only in late 2020 that it would finally be challenged by a remake once again developed by CBS.

And while one of these shows has way more fans than the other, I think both versions of the epic tale are worth revisiting because of what they say about their respective time periods, and that's why I’d like to look back and compare both adaptations of The Stand.

The Stand (1994)

With big budget streaming and HBO sensations continuing to blur the line between film and television, younger readers might not be aware of what popular TV used to be like in the 90s. Before the days of Stranger Things and Game of Thrones, even ratings juggernauts like The X-Files had to contend with miniscule production budgets in order to accommodate the increased runtime when compared to movies.

That's why it's easy to forgive 1994's version of The Stand for many of its budgetary blunders, as the show didn't really stand out as a particularly cheap program when compared to other similar genre productions of the time – I mean, this was a year before Xena was on the air! Sure, the soap-opera-esque visuals and laughable effects sometimes hindered the more dramatic moments, but you’ve got to hand it to Garris for making the most of what little money he had to work with.

In fact, some of these dated elements have aged well enough that they add a bit of vintage flavor to the production, with charming little details like sets that look like they were originally built for a high-school theater productions and makeup effects that turn our main antagonist into a Power Rangers villain. That being said, if you can put the low production value aside, the actual storytelling here isn't bad. This is still essentially the same narrative as King's novel (with the teleplay written by the author himself), it's just hampered by a lack of inner monologues and subjective details.

Fortunately, the iconic casting mostly makes up for these literary losses, with Gary Sinise and Molly Ringwald remaining my favorite incarnations of Stu and Frannie (though that might have something to do with my teenage crush on Ringwald, so take my opinion with a grain of salt). I also adore Jamey Sheridan as Randall Flagg even if he's not quite as menacing as he was in the book.

In all honesty, I have a huge bias towards this mini-series since I watched it immediately after reading the book (I even own a DVD copy signed by Garris) but revisiting it decades later will probably be a very mixed experience for those who aren't already hardcore fans. The 1990s CBS budget simply can't keep up with the huge scope of the story and even the six-hour runtime isn't enough to properly explore this world and its complex characters.

The Stand (2020)

A remake of The Stand was a long time coming, with rumored films and even a multi-season TV show being discussed before fate decided that CBS should once again be the one to bring Captain Trips back for another round of Pandemic horror. This time, however, the production value would be out of this world, with blockbuster effects and more time to develop these iconic characters and follow the book more closely.

At least, that was the plan. In practice, the show's purist premise would end up being sabotaged by the decision to tell the story in a non-linear fashion, with choppy editing and bizarre transitions neutering the story's scale and emotional impact. Episodes jump around the book's timeline and the show expects viewers to tag along for the ride, erroneously assuming that we can just "skip to the good stuff" since most people are already familiar with the story.

There's also the matter of that bizarre epilogue episode which doesn't really add anything to the plot. While I appreciate that King decided to update his epic nearly four decades after its original publication, it still feels like a poorly paced afterthought.

Fortunately, the show is boosted by a star-studded cast that rivals the original production, with Whoopie Goldberg making an excellent Mother Abigail and Owen Teague being a big improvement over Corin Nemec as Harold Lauder (with his Tom-Cruise-inspired incel demeanor making him a lot creepier despite his differences to the source material). I also adored the always-lovable Fiona Dourif as the gender-swapped Ratman, though I wish the script had given Jovan Adepo more to do as a less charming version of Larry Underwood.

My personal favorite recasting was Alexander Skarsgård as Randall Flagg. While I still think he should have incorporated more of Sheridan's over-the-top persona into the character, both versions are equally memorable for different reasons, though the budget actually allows the more recent version of the villain to feel legitimately scary.

I have to address the elephant in the room, however, which is the fact that this high-profile TV show about a deadly virus was released in the middle of a real-world pandemic. Not only did this affect production, with filming being delayed due to Covid restrictions, but I also get the feeling that the non-linear editing might have been the result of CBS wanting to speed the story along and skip over the initial pandemic plot in order to distance the show from the real-world tragedies of 2020.

I can't really confirm this theory, but I have the feeling that somewhere out there is a superior version of The Stand that tells the same story in chronological order and (hopefully) skips over the epilogue entirely.

So Which Is The Better Show?

It's hard to objectively compare two pieces of artwork created in completely different eras. Many of the improvements of the 2020 version of The Stand are simply due to the evolving media landscape surrounding it and aren't necessarily merits of that particular production. At the same time, several of the flaws of the 1994 mini-series were already egregious back in the day, we simply accepted them because that's what was expected of genre TV or – as it was in my case – we grew up with it.

Looking back on it now, the 1994 production is a much more cohesive experience, benefiting from a linear plot and dialogue from Stephen King himself. Meanwhile, the 2020 reboot has singular moments of brilliance that outshine the original (like the reworked finale that miraculously makes the whole "Hand of God" scene less ridiculous) in between hours of messy and often boring storytelling. And on a minor note, both shows benefit from equally entertaining soundtracks, though it's a shame that the more recent version relegates most of its music to the end credits.

At the end of the day, neither adaptation can quite convey the Tolkien-esque scope of the novel, even if the 2020 incarnation at least features some sweeping Peter-Jackson-inspired shots of the "modern fellowship" travelling to Las Vegas. That's why I believe the definitive version of The Stand will always be the original novel, as the spiritual conflict of this particular epic lends itself better to literature than television – or even film for that matter, as the story's structure would make it difficult to divide into a satisfying big budget trilogy.

That being said, I’d be lying if I didn't admit that I still prefer the 1994 adaptation as my personal cheesy favorite.

Born Brazilian, raised Canadian, Luiz is a writer and Film student that spends most of his time watching movies and subsequently complaining about them.

‘The Boogeyman’ – Comparing Rob Savage's Horror Movie to Stephen King's Horror Story

‘King on Screen’ Trailer – Stephen King Documentary Sets Summer Release in Theaters and At Home

‘The Boogeyman’ Has Been Haunting TikTok with Creepy 12-Hour Interactive Stunt

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The following contains major spoilers for The Boogeyman (2023).

Early Stephen King short stories have a particular kind of grit. Often called Vintage King, the twenty dark tales in the author's first collection, Night Shift, vary wildly in subject matter and tone but nearly all convey a distinct nihilism and end with a shocking stinger or devastating twist. When adapting these nasty nightmares for the big screen, many directors amplify the unapologetic cruelty while others take the edge off of bleak endings by adding a more uplifting tone or reversing the cynical message with an outright happy ending.

Rob Savage's 2023 adaptation of "The Boogeyman" falls somewhere in between. Working from a script co-written by Scott Beck, Bryan Woods, and Mark Heyman, Savage maintains the story's morbid tone by expanding the mental health element of the narrative, but presents a more hopeful ending by centering the story on the Harper family's attempts to heal from a devastating loss. Though not nearly as harsh as King's original story, Savage's The Boogeyman plunges deep into darkness, but concludes by delivering us back into the light.

King's story begins and ends in the office of Dr. Harper. Lester Billings starts the therapy session by making it clear he's not interested in any kind of healing. He simply wants to bear his soul to a stranger then move on. Lester tells Dr. Harper that he killed his three kids, then qualifies this statement to say that he's merely responsible for their deaths. The true murderer is a monster he calls the Boogeyman. Lester's oldest child, a three-year-old boy named Denny, first notices the Boogeyman creeping up to his crib at night. After weeks of this torture, it kills the poor boy in a horrifying death mistaken for SIDS. When his younger daughter Shirl notices the same monster slinking around the nursery at night, Lester begins to fear something more sinister may be afoot. The Boogeyman rips through the Billings family, murdering Shirl and Lester's third child Andy, a rainbow baby who promised a new start for the devastated couple.

Savage presents this therapy session in the first act of his film then uses it as a springboard to explore Dr. Will Harper's (Chris Messina) own family strife. Played by David Dastmalchian, Lester knocks on the door of Will's home office and tells an unsettling story about a creature haunting his home. Rather than kill three of his children, the Boogeyman only attacks after Lester's first child actually dies of SIDS. Feeding on their misery, the monster creeps in and exploits their emotional pain while preying on the two younger Billings children. The scene on Dr. Harper's couch may be similar to King's original text, but this is where Lester's role in the story ends. The doctor excuses himself and makes a call to the local authorities, leaving Lester alone in his home. While he's away, the depressed father struggles with an unseen force then dies by suicide in the closet. An approximation of his body slowly wanders the house while Will's daughter Sadie (Sophie Thatcher) washes her late mother's stained dress. Though we will later meet Lester's wife Rita (Marin Ireland), the rest of the movie revolves around Will and his family, leaving the tortured man to die alone.

Part of what makes King's original story so unflinchingly grim is its despicable main character. Lester tells a devastating account of the deaths of his three toddlers, but he does so in the most off-putting way possible. Not only does he use racist and homophobic language, he discusses the horrors of finding out his son might be gay as if on par with the child's horrifying death at the hands of the Boogeyman. Lester may be a terrible father, but he's an equally abhorrent husband. Having married just out of high school, he shames Rita for sleeping with him so quickly and offhandedly alludes to a habit of physical abuse. When Rita accidentally becomes pregnant with their third child, shortly after Shirl's death, Lester flatly refuses to co-parent claiming his wife "messed up" and should be punished by caring for the child alone. The Boogeyman may be the only one hiding in closets of the Billings house, but it is far from the home's only monster. Savage's Lester is much more relatable. Though not exactly pleasant, Dastmalchian's version of the character is far from a bigot and proves to be more of a danger to himself than to anyone else in his family

King uses hauntingly vague terms to portray the story's titular monster. Lester describes a putrid smell and squelching sounds emanating from the closets of his home and occasionally notices trails of mucky soil indicating that the creature may come from the sewers or swamps. The brief glimpse he does catch reveals a hunched ghoul with spade-like claws and the head of a scarecrow. I have always imagined a dripping swamp-monster similar to the creatures that emerge from the sea in the classic Creepshow short, "Something to Tide You Over," but another reader could easily envision a skeletal beast caked with dirt from a nearby cemetery. The genius of King's sparse description allows us to populate the closets of the Billings home with whatever nightmares lurked in our own childhood bedrooms at night.

More telling is the Boogeyman's signature hiding place. Lester first notices its presence when a closet door he knows he closed seems to open on its own … but just a crack. King repeats this haunting phrase several times throughout the story, implying the creature's presence while demonstrating Lester's growing paranoia. He insists Dr. Harper firmly closes the door to the coat closet in his office and longs to go to prison where one can clearly see into all corners of the cells.

Bringing the Boogeyman to screen may be the most daunting task of the film and Savage takes a few cues from one of King's most famous creations. Though the titular monster in the author's epic novel It frequently takes the form of Pennywise the Dancing Clown, Its true form (or the closest version our human eyes can see) is closer to a spider. It also haunts the sewers and takes pleasure in terrorizing children before going in for the kill. Despite these similarities, Savage's Boogeyman feels both fresh and terrifying. Resembling an inky, black spider, the creature contorts its body to fit into the darkest corners, lurking in cluttered closets and scuttling under the bed while its terrified victims huddle in fear under their covers.

Similar to It, Savage's Boogeyman has a similar, but less powerful ability to shapeshift. The film's opening scene implies the devastating death of Lester's young daughter as the Boogeyman prepares to strike. The frightened baby cries while an unsettling approximation of her father's voice circles her crib. This talent for mimicry proves to be one of its most devastating weapons in the Boogeyman's arsenal and we watch as it tortures Will's daughters with the voice and image of their late mother. When Lester wanders up the stairs in the Harper home, the disoriented man we see is likely the Boogeyman simulating his appearance to find a hiding space without drawing the family's attention. Fleshing out the story's lore, Savage has created a hideous monster with jaws that open to reveal a pair of spindly arms. These nightmarish appendages reach out to caress the face of its intended victim then draw out their will to live in the form of a murky black cloud.

We don't know if King's Boogeyman has a weakness. We can assume that it has a corporeal form as it is able to raise baby Andy out of his crib and open doors in the house. The original Lester never tries to fight back, but the cinematic version of his wife finds a way. More dynamic than her literary counterpart, Savage's Rita has constructed a series of boobytraps in her home designed to catch and kill the creature that destroyed her family. Discovering that the Boogeyman bleeds and can be wounded by light, she finds safety by filling her house with candles, floodlights, and trip wires. Rita shares this knowledge with Sadie who eventually defeats the Boogeyman with a massive flame from her mother's treasured lighter. This action-oriented Rita is a far cry from King's version, though it must be noted that we see her entirely through the lens of her unpleasant husband. We don't know much about the original Rita except that her life with Lester must be miserable. After Andy's death, she finally leaves him behind and hopefully starts a new chapter with a more supportive partner.

In the final act of King's story, Lester allows baby Andy to sleep in his parents’ bedroom to protect the young child from suffering the same fate as his two older siblings. When Rita takes an extended trip out of town, the creature becomes bolder and leaves intentional evidence of its presence to further terrify Lester. The frightened father uses his own son as protection and moves the child back into the nursery, hoping to divert the monster's attention away from himself. Savage's Rita uses a similar betrayal to capture the Boogeyman. She lures Sadie to her crumbling home with the promise of help then zip ties her hands to a pipe and uses the frightened teenager as bait to draw out the monster. This devious plan backfires and Rita becomes the final member of the Billings family to fall into the clutches of the soul-sucking monster.

Both versions of The Boogeyman can be read as a metaphor for unresolved trauma. Savage's monster creeps into the houses of families who have already experienced significant loss then exploits their pain by taking members of the family one by one. When talking to Will, Lester describes the creature as "the thing that comes for your kids when you’re not paying attention" preying on every parent's worst nightmare. Once the Boogeyman settles into the Harper home, it begins to feed on the family's emotional turmoil. Not only are they grieving the death of the family matriarch, but Will is unable to connect with his daughters or use his skills as a therapist to guide them through their sorrow. They are finally able to confront their grief in a climactic showdown in the darkened basement when Will finds the strength to accept the pain he's been trying to avoid. The final scene shows him attending a brightly lit session of family therapy implying that he has begun to find his way out of emotional darkness.

King's story could also be read as a metaphor, though the subtext is buried more deeply. Given Lester's brutish personality and descriptions of his family life, one might read his confession and conclude that there is no Boogeyman. Frustrated with his wife and a job he hates, this angry young father has taken out his rage on his children and possibly killed them with his own hands. When Rita goes out of town she leaves Lester to parent a toddler alone, a triggering scenario for a man used to ordering others around. The emboldened Boogeyman could be interpreted as Lester's own growing frustration with his wife's absence. Perhaps he moves the child back into the nursery to protect his favorite son from a rage he knows he can't control. The story ends with Lester committing to additional therapy sessions, finally agreeing to treat whatever dark shadows lurk in his mind. Unfortunately he finds that the darkness has found him once again.

The Therapist's Closet

Like many stories in Night Shift, "The Boogeyman" ends with a horrifying stinger. After finding the receptionist's desk empty, Lester wanders back into Dr. Harper's office and learns that the compassionate man he's entrusted with his grief has been the monster all along. The Boogeyman chuckles to himself while pulling off his Dr. Harper mask and holding it in his clawed hands suggesting that there is no redemption available for Lester. If the Boogeyman is real, it has found the doomed father once again and will continue tormenting him until he suffers the same fate as his children. When viewed as a metaphor, we can see that Lester's darkest fear is the vulnerability it will take to confront his overwhelming guilt.

Savage teases this ending with two scenes not found in King's text. Midway through the film, Sadie and Sawyer (Vivien Lyra Blair) attend a family therapy session where Dr. Weller (LisaGay Hamilton) tries an exercise to treat Sawyer's growing fear of the dark. A flashing red light gradually darkens the room to demonstrate that there is nothing sinister lurking in the shadows. While this exposure therapy may work for some patients, it proves especially terrifying for the young child. Not only does the Boogeyman appear in an upper corner of the room, but the therapist's reassuring grin slowly becomes more sinister, implying that she may also be the Boogeyman in disguise.

Savage also nods to this stinger with a shocking conclusion of his own. After presumably escaping the rubble of the Harper's basement, the ageless monster follows the family to Dr. Weller's office and settles into the therapist's closet. After a particularly healing session, the somewhat distorted voice of the therapist calls Sadie back into the office. The closet door is open … but just a crack. Before the Boogeyman can pounce once again, the real Dr. Weller appears in another doorway and Sadie firmly closes the closet door then walks into the sunshine. This decisive conclusion encapsulates Savage's approach to the source material. The darkness will always haunt us, hiding in the corners of our complicated lives. However, if we can find our way back together and work to heal the fractured pieces of our souls, we can defeat the dark monster of trauma once and for all.