If you take out a few shades of grey in between, the film adaptations of Stephen King's works seem to fall squarely into one of two camps: outright horror (with a dash of introspective drama for good measure), or the introspective drama (with a dash of horror for good measure). The latter style of his films are the ones that prove to be more successful critically and financially (i.e. Stand By Me, The Green Mile), although more recently, his more horror-based efforts have become chosen for TV movie and miniseries adaptations, usually with many of the juicier bits left on the cutting-room floor to appease censors.

Enter Mick Garris. A longtime veteran of TV direction, his previous efforts include episodes of Tales From The Crypt and Freddy's Nightmares (review here), as well as the theatrical train-wreck that was Sleepwalkers (Blecch). However, he's become much more prolific in recent years, taking on more adaptations of King's including a more novel-accurate take on The Shining, The Regulators, the King-Clive Barker combo Quicksilver Highway, and now Riding The Bullet.

October 30th, 1969. Alan Parker (Jonathan Jackson), a morbid art student, is being dumped by his girlfriend Jessica, on his birthday no less. No longer seeing any point to life, he attempts to end it in a warm tub. However, his girlfriend's dumping turned out to merely be a set-up for a surprise party, which interrupts his wrist-slashing in the nick of time, leaving him with a non-fatal gouge. Recovering in the hospital, Jessica gives him his birthday present: a pair of tickets to see John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band. He's all set to make the trek to Canada with his two stoner roommates when he gets the phone call that changes everything. He learns from his busybody neighbor that his mother, Jean (Barbara Hershey), is in the hospital recovering from a stroke. Worried that she won't make it, he passes the Lennon tickets off to his roommates (who beat cheeks straight up to Toronto), and hitchhikes his way south to see his mother for what may very well be the last time. Unfortunately, our man Alan has stepped into the Twilight Zone, or he's somewhere in the Outer Limits, or he's a painting in the Night Gallery, or he's behind The Veil...OK, I'll stop. His trek brings him in contact with fake hippies, wild dogs, drunken rednecks, lonesome old farmers with irritated groins, urban legends, all the while being haunted by visions of his mother and his own doubts and fears, many of which tie back to The Bullet, an old wooden roller coaster that Alan could never ride in his youth...

Riding The Bullet represents one of the shades of grey I mentioned earlier: sure, it's horror, but it's horror with a heart, where Alan, our protagonist (I wouldn't necessarily call this emotionally stunted lead a "hero"), faces fears and death on a voyage of self-discovery. There's the obvious metaphor that the titular Bullet plays out in the story, and King's post-accident fear of cars is well-represented here (there's a car chase that rivals Starsky and Hutch, for chrissakes). It's still nasty, don't you worry, but all that nastiness is means to an end. In Alan's hitch-hiking journey south, he's dealing with sacrifice, love, hate, selfishness, selflessness...all mixed up with some suitably creepy moments, many of which seemed torn right from films of horror's past. There's a Night of the Living Dead reference in which David Arquette's zombified George Staub slurs out "They're coming to get you, Barbara." There's a dog attack ripped right out of Suspiria (or The Beyond, depending on your mood), as well as quite a few other subtle little winks here and there. It's not an outright "tribute" film (thank Christ), but there's plenty of little nudges here and there for the alert. Also worth mentioning is the solid cast assembled for the movie: Barbara Hershey plays Jean Parker with both maternal sweetness and a drunkard's anger. Cliff Robertson (who played Uncle Ben in both the Spider-Man films) turns in a crucial cameo as a trussed-up farmer. Even David Arquette, whom I normally wish would simply disappear from the face of the planet, turns in a surprisingly menacing performance as the rockabilly lich George Staub (with a good-sized dollop of over-the-top goofiness which made me smirk). Sure, no Oscars are being handed out, but everyone does surprisingly well considering the extremely low-budget nature of the film and its TV movie production values. Unfortunately, the movie never really gels together into a cohesive whole. It's great fun to watch at times, and its navel-contemplating subtext is appreciated, but it never moves past B-grade fare.

Riding The Bullet is presented in its original 1.85:1 theatrical aspect ratio (even though it was quickly dumped out on the USA Network), and it looks great. The muted palette is solid and clean, with no artifacts, grain, or print damage anywhere in sight. Audio is a rather flat 5.1 mix (the surrounds were very sparingly used) that kept its clarity throughout. Extras include a very busy commentary spread amongst Garris, the cast, and a few select crew members, storyboard-to-film comparisons, a minifeaturette (spellcheck is gonna love that one), and a trailer.

According to King, Riding The Bullet is "the best of the independent films made from [his] work since Stand By Me." It's far from revolutionary, or even remarkable. However, it still stands as one of the more solid efforts out there in King's pantheon of adaptations, ranging from The Shawshank Redemption all the way down to Maximum Overdrive. It sits somewhere nice and firmly in the upper third. It's worth a watch or two, but it won't make a believer out of you.