Martin Carr reviews the fifth episode of Castle Rock…
A metaphorical Harvest and the reaping of seeds sown brings home to roost certain truths about Castle Rock this week. Catholic attrition for past transgressions, past misdemeanours from those seemingly beyond redemption and a purging to wipe the slate clean for new comers. Beyond the biblical fire and brimstone which accompanies a prison release we are faced with awkward realisations, moments of sobering confession and a town pushed to the point of implosion.
Feelings are ramped up, reactions blown out of proportion while our Shawshank prisoner goes about quietly causing carnage. In an Easter egg moment for the ages you get a vocal overview of key characters in Stephen King’s cannon, fictional stories of misfortune which embrace everyone here. There is a sense of metaphysical trickery as the architect of their troubles uses this unnamed prisoner as his conduit. Skarsgard is silent and solemn behind baleful glances and dead eyed innocence he wanders wordlessly through a town inflicting psychological disquiet.
Only Ruth Deaver sees the miscreant for the trouble he represents rather than disregarding, disbelieving or relying on the rational. Meanwhile Henry is self-absorbed, shell shocked and vaguely post traumatic after the killing spree he witnessed last week. Incumbent wardens are been disavowed, thrown under buses or being forced to do their jobs while long lost cadavers gently slow cook. As ever Spacek and Glenn alongside Holland cement this world in a context both recognisable but distinctly off kilter. Sardonic wit is supplied through rehabilitation videos while bizarre character moments and insight is offered up by Jack Torrance’s niece through a hash pipe.
That Castle Rock is going to hell in a handcart is neither here nor there as drama by definition requires friction to be effective. What continues to astound, enthral and engage relentlessly is the sheer variety of grounded horror avenues on offer. Advancing forest fires, family fights which end in a stabbing and established characters throwing themselves into the precipice, while phantom dogs return from the dead represent but a few. You can dress this up any way you please but ultimately Castle Rock entertains, scares and engages audiences, because these writers have made the mundane terrifying. Centering our fears round people who seem perfectly rational and exceptional only in their ability to keep it simple.
This more than anything is what keeps it intriguing beyond the mute prisoners, religiously overzealous suicidal wardens and drug addled axe murdering extended family issues. In the coming weeks as the bodies pile up and more skeletons immerge from within Shawshank, Castle Rock will have guaranteed itself a greenlit second season without breaking sweat. Mark my words.
Martin Carr
