Directed by: Lewis Teague, Starring: Dee Wallace, Daniel Hugh-Kelly,
Danny Pintauro, Christopher Stone, Ed Lauter. Horror, US 1983, 93mins, Cert 18.
In his memoir ‘On Writing’, author Stephen King confesses he barely
remembers writing his JAWS-with-claws novel ‘Cujo’; such was his raging
alcoholism at the time. This saddens him as whilst he liked the book, he wishes
he “...could remember enjoying the good parts as I put them down on the page”. However,
by the time he sat down to write the screenplay (which would ultimately be rejected
for straying too far from his own source material) he was clearly troubled with
one part - namely the novel’s bleak ending – so he recommended a revision. The
filmmakers were on the same page as King on this matter and so the 1983 film
version duly delivered a more upbeat conclusion.
Taking over from original director Peter Medak, Lewis Teague was only
gifted two days of prep time. Still, he came by virtue of a recommendation by
King himself who had been impressed by Teague’s previous giant scaly monster
mash ALLIGATOR. Enlisting Jan de Bont (SPEED) as his director of photography
proved an inspired choice. Whilst the final product is still hampered by its
lumbering premise, the film is at least infused with visually innovative story-telling.
Cujo, a loveable gentle-giant family pet St. Bernard chases a rabbit into
a cave in an opening sequence more akin to a BENJI movie. However, as de Bont’s
steadicam enthusiastically tracks Cujo through an idyllic meadow, things are
about to take a decided turn for the worst for the slobbering pooch when he
thrusts his snout into what turns out to be a nest of rabies-infected bats and
is promptly bitten on his nose by one of the fanged creatures. This ignites the
slow-burning fuse which will eventually bring about Cujo’s descent into
infection and deadly menace, setting up the film’s third act set-piece.
But before arriving there, we have to wade through a soap-opera-ish
subplot concerning housewife Donna Trenton’s (Dee Wallace) extra-marital affair
with ‘local stud’ Steve (played by Wallace’s real-life husband Christopher
Stone – reuniting them on screen again after Joe Dante’s THE HOWLING).
Meanwhile, Donna’s young son Tad (Danny Pintauro) is convinced there’s a
growling monster with glowing eyes and big sharp teeth lurking in his closet.
Cuckold husband Vic tries to reassure his son by reciting a monster banishing
mantra but the audience is already way ahead with this telegraphed
foreshadowing. Vic on the other hand is too preoccupied with his disastrous
marketing campaign for a children’s cereal to see what’s going on right under
his nose with his wife and Steve. Meanwhile, Cujo’s nose is looking
increasingly infected...
Eventually, through a series of rusty plot contrivances, Donna and son Tad
end up stranded in their broken down Ford Pinto in the baking heat at the
deserted farmstead of car mechanic and Cujo’s neglectful owner Joe Camber (Ed
Lauter). Unbeknown to Donna, Cujo had already chowed down on his former master,
as he lays siege to the car trapping mother and son in a dehydrating stand-off.
The close-up shots of Cujo’s slobbering pus and gore smeared visage in
the latter stages of his rabies metamorphosis look impressively repulsive in
HD. Teague and de Bont employ a visual bag of tricks in staging Cujo’s attacks,
but it’s a tall order to nail a jump scare when you’re working with such large
good-natured tail-wagging cumbersome co-stars. Between 5-10 different St.
Bernard’s were ultimately employed during filming, and there’s a noticeable
inconsistency in the size-differences between the various trained pooches
onscreen.
I did however admire the false slasher-like ending set-up which pays off
with a suddenly revived Cujo bursting through the window like a canine Jason
Voorhees from FRIDAY THE 13TH PART 2.
As for the humans, Dee Wallace delivers an unflinching portrayal of a
woman initially wrestling with the guilt of her infidelity who is then
propelled by her ferocious maternal instinct to defend her child Tad by
violently confronting a monstrous force of nature. Is she somehow being
punished, albeit unjustifiably, for the affair? Possibly, but the softened on
screen resolution seems less judgemental than the novel’s. 6 year old Danny
Pintauro gives an extraordinary performance as the terrified seizure-prone
youngster – “Can he eat his way in here?” he panics, as his imaginary monster
in the closet fears are realised despite his mother’s attempt at
rationalisation: “It’s not a monster, it’s just a doggy”.
Cujo is one humongous metaphor for the force of nature – and how
mistreatment and callous disregard can lead to nature coming back to bite you (quite
literally in this case). The rabid doggy acts as a catalyst for change for all
the characters; liberation for Joe Camber’s wife and her son – finally free
from their abusive patriarch – and ultimately reconciliation for the Trenton’s,
the nuclear family dynamic seemingly restored, the monster bested and the
temptation of infidelity sated.
Plot holes abound larger than the cave Cujo snuffles down into. Why
doesn’t Donna phone ahead to make sure Joe Camber is there before driving all
the way out to his deserted farm with a knowingly unreliable car? Why doesn’t
anyone think to lock their front doors, and why would you trust a flimsy porch
screen when a rabid St. Bernard is charging towards you full (matted) pelt? But
despite these misgivings the film is far from a dog’s breakfast. Rewarding compensations
include inventive camera work infused with a pleasing layer of nostalgia-inducing
80’s hue, and Charles Bernstein’s lush evocative score provides a rich treacly syrup
of both melody and menace. There’s also real pathos in Cujo’s forlorn eyes. In
a prelude to the mayhem yet to be unleashed, Cujo, sentient to what he is
becoming, rejects his young master’s calls and retreats into the fog. A pivotal
and quietly heartbreaking moment.
**** (out of 5*)
Paul Worts
