‘The Life Of Chuck’ review: Tom Hiddleston headlines sentimental Stephen King adaptation

Dir: Mike Flanagan. US. 2025. 110mins

Having built a reputation as a master of modern horror, Mike Flanagan (Hush, Doctor Sleep, TV’s The Haunting Of Hill House) switches gear for The Life Of Chuck. Based on a 2020 Stephen King novella, the film continues Flanagan’s penchant for King adaptations, but this story told in reverse largely swaps out the chills for a heartwarming, if occasionally overworked, study of life, death and what it means to be (very ordinarily) human. Peppered with well-handled genre element, it stars Tom Hiddleston alongside Chiwetel Ejiofor, Karen Gillan and Flanagan favourites such as Kate Siegel and Rahul Kohli.

Comes close to capturing the infinite value of an individual life

Having adapted Gerald’s Game and Doctor Sleep, and now working on TV versions of The Dark Tower and Carrie, writer/director Flanagan has a knack for plugging into the rhythms of King’s work, balancing emotion alongside darker elements. While fans of both King and Flanagan may be surprised by Chuck’s lighter, more sentimental approach, they should help it to strong returns. The Life Of Chuck premiered in Toronto, where it won the People’s Choice award, and expands wide in the US on June 13 through Neon (after a limited opening on June 6) before arriving in UK cinemas on August 22 though Studiocanal.

The film starts at the end of the story, with a chapter titled ‘Act Three: Thanks Chuck’. An opening sequence sees a high-school student reading Walt Whitman’s poem ‘Song Of Myself’ (“I contain multitudes,” he asserts to his bored classmates), which will emerge as the film’s leitmotif. 

Much of this first segment is wilfully mysterious, as the inhabitants of a small US town – including teacher Marty (Chiwetel Ejiofor, giving one of the film’s strongest performances) and his ex-wife Felicia (Karen Gillan) – face what appears to be an incoming apocalypse. Climate catastrophes ravage the planet. The internet and phone networks collapse (leading to a tragicomic cameo from David Dastmalchian as a father lamenting the loss of online porn as much as the departure of his wife). And, weirdly, adverts begin to appear thanking Chuck Krantz (Hiddleston) for his ’39 great years’ – the trouble is, no-one knows who Chuck is.

‘Act Two: Buskers Forever’ gives more of a sense of the man as Nick Offerman’s wry narration introduces Chuck as a strait-laced accountant in his late 30s. Against all appearances, Chuck feels inspired by a drumming busker (Taylor Gordon, aka The Pocket Queen) to dance in the street with a passing stranger (Annalise Basso). Fuelled by The Pocket Queen’s infectious, energetic beat – which overshadows the rest of The Newton Brothers’ muted score – and lensed with Wes Anderson-like whimsy by cinematographer Eben Bolter, this extended, meticulously choreographed sequence initially feels disconnected to what has come before. But, gradually, subtle ripples of familiarity begin to appear – through dance, dialogue, design and characters – and grow in strength with the move to ‘Act One: I Contain Multitudes’.

This final segment is perhaps the most in keeping with Flanagan’s usual work, as it revolves around the younger Chuck (played, at various ages, by Cody Flanagan, Benjamin Pajak and Jacob Tremblay), who lives with his grandparents Sarah (Mia Sara) and Albie (Mark Hamill) following the death of his parents. Here, there are strong echoes of other Flanagan creations such as Midnight Mass, in its humanistic approach to death, or Hill House (adapted from the Shirley Jackson novel) and The Haunting Of Bly Manor in a family home that hides dark secrets and whispers of death – namely the padlocked cupola that remains frustratingly off-limits. Chuck does not believe Sarah’s explanation of rotting floorboards, and is increasingly drawn into the grieving Albie’s stories of ghosts and horrifying premonitions – a fascination that will eventually bring the narrative full circle.

To say any more would be to spoil the experience, but this final section is perhaps a little too concerned with joining all the dots in order to land the satisfying reveal. It is also somewhat at odds with the film’s overarching message: that we are, indeed, multitudes, impossible to define. “Would answers make a good thing better?” is one of the film’s repeated refrains. In this case the answer would seem to be no but, for the most part The Life Of Chuck remains a moving drama that comes close to capturing the infinite value of an individual life.