Long before Stephen King became a blathering, political pundit, he wove yarns to inspire and scare: some original, others derivative.
"Pet Sematary" is one of the latter: a variation of W.W. Jacobs' Faustian fable, "The Monkey's Paw", where animals (and on occasion, people) rise from the grave, all with vexing consequence.
The novel is so gripping that one might claim that no movie version could ever do it justice. There was hope that George A. Romero might have pulled it off, but as with other proposed, Romero/King projects, the prospect slipped through the cracks, leaving Mary "Urban Legends" Lambert to grasp the directorial reigns.
Lambert's '89 adaptation doesn't capture the full extent of the book's ominous atmosphere, but on the whole, it shares its essential content and for television connoisseurs, offers Denise Crosby (in what was her most high-profile part since "Star Trek") and Fred "Herman Munster" Gwynne as the supportive but wary Jud Crandall: a role for which the actor should have won an Oscar.
Considering these successful attributes, there's no logical cause to have remade "Pet Sematary" (any more than there was for Lambert to sequelize her film in '92), but why redo any film? When it comes to repeated tries, maybe "...dead is better".
For me, accepting a "Pet Sematary" remake is like accepting any knockoff of "Monkey's Paw" (that includes Bob Clark's emotive "Deathdream", Robert Kurtzman's raffish "Wishmaster" and Rod Serling's mordant "Man in the Bottle") or any "Frankenstein", "Jekyll and Hyde", "Dracula" or "Carrie" (ha, ha) that have come over the years. It's a matter of how well the product is rendered. Some retellings work; some don't.
In this instance, the line between new and old is slim: A child dies in a most violent way and after being buried in a accursed burial ground, crawls forth to...shoot, you know the rest. In this regard, the new film, directed by Kevin Kolsch and Dennis Widmyer, and adapted by Jeff Buhler and Matt Greenberg, is sure as hell no revisionist "Curse of Frankenstein". On the other hand, it does offer one wise, character twist, which sets it apart from Lambert's version, while still sticking to King's story structure.
For the most part, the remake's characterizations are comparable to those of the first, ringing of poignancy and culpability. The performers include Jason ("Planet of the Apes"/"Terminator") Clarke as Louis Creed; Amy ("Alien: Covenant") Seimetz as his wife, Rachel; scene-stealing Jete Laurence as his daughter, Ellie; the versatile John Lithgow as Jud Crandall; Obssa Ahmed as the spectral Victor Pascal; Alyssa Levine as sorrowful Sister Zelda; and Hugo and Lucas Lavoie as wee Gage. (For the record, four kitties comprise Church, the famed, resurrected cat, each projecting cuddly and/or perturbing results.)
Though Clarke is excellent as the anguished father, it's Lithgow who holds the heartbreaking horror together: a man who understands evil and yet succumbs to it. As with Gwynne's portrayal, it's easy to see through Lithgow's eyes. Of course, when it comes to King characters, Crandall is one of the most tenderhearted: a weathered everyman, who might as well be one's uncle or grandpop. That he's identifiable makes the prodigious premise credible.
Though conceptually redundant, "Pet Sematary '19'"s staging is as vigorous as it's repugnant. No matter the moment (no matter how horrid the death), one dare not turn away. And yet does the remake's deft execution validate it?
Perhaps not, but I do believe that King's tale, like the short story that inspired it, is destined for the ages. This version won't be the last, for as with any significant horror literature, the insatiable urge for cinematic revisitation will subsist. Besides, for better or worse, sequels and revivals of "The Dead Zone", 'The Shining" and "It" are but a recapitulated heartbeat away.
