Stephen King is probably my favourite author (in that I like both the general area he covers and also his style) and it is always interesting to see filmed adaptations of his work. Not always enjoyable, but always interesting. The problem is that it is easy to capture the physical events of his stories, but the best part of the writing is what goes on in the heads of the character. This adaptation of a short story tries to address this by various means, as a consequence of which you are never quite sure whether what you are seeing is real (whether now or flashback) or imagination, hallucination or the like. Mick Garris, who seems to be King's cinematic collaborator of choice, does the same sort of job here which he has done on so much of King's material - he produces a competent but relatively thrill-less TV movie. The problem here is that this is a cinema release, and so it seems reasonable to expect the stakes to have been raised. Apart from some bad language and a couple of bare breasts, it hasn't, and this film is not the one to result in my reconsideration of Garris as a journeyman director. Other directors do King much better (also, to be fair, many are no better than Garris). Incidentally, this isn't one of King's better stories: it recycles elements of Christine, The Talisman, and The Road Virus Heads North, to name but three.