“I Contain Multitudes.”
These three words are not just a Walt Whitman quote or the title of Act I within director Mike Flanagan’s Stephen King short story adaptation The Life of Chuck or the mantra that Chuck tells himself throughout his life (consciously and subconsciously), but an important message for audiences who find themselves stuck within binary labeling systems or boxes that meet society’s standards. We are more than our appearance, our vocation, our day-to-day lives, we are the summation of everyone we’ve met, with each interaction building to create a complex sense of self that can layer one version of ourselves onto another without having to sacrifice a single part of what we value. Though it seems quite obvious and, for some, a little too simplistic or naïve a message, Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck cuts to the heart of the preciousness of our brief existence by reminding us across three acts told in reverse that just because the story must end, doesn’t mean that the moments before it can’t possess meaning. Radically, it reminds us that a life spent waiting for the end is wasted time when there’s so much joy to experience. After a premiere at TIFF 2024 and a theatrical release in June, Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck comes available on physical formats, bringing with it more than 50 minutes of behind-the-scenes materials to investigate.
If you’re interested in a spoiler-free review, head over to EoM Contributor Justin Waldman’s initial TIFF 2024 review.
If you’re interested in a spoiler-free review from the initial wide theatrical release, head over to EoM Contributor Andrew Eisenman’s review.
Moving forward, there will be spoilers.
L-R: Writer/director Mike Flanagan and actors Annalise Basso and Tom Hiddleston on the set of Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
Across three acts, a world ends, a business man dances, and a child grows up experiencing love and loss. At the center of it all is Charles “Chuck” Krantz (Tom Hiddleston, Jacob Tremblay, Benjamin Pajak, Cody Flanagan) whose lived experience we’re invited to witness in reverse chronological order. In order to understand the end, one must also understand the beginning and all the spaces in between. Led by a formless narrator (Nick Offerman), we observe three significant periods within Chuck’s lifespan in order to understand the multitudes we all possess and the love at the center of it all.
The following review is based on a Blu-ray review copy provided by Alliance Entertainment.
L-R: Chiwetel Ejiofor as Marty Anderson and Karen Gillan as Felicia Gordon in Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
Since its release, The Life of Chuck has been described as maudlin and cringe, as well as life-affirming and loving. This is a film that opens with an apocalypse and ends in an empty sunlight room, so it’s fair that some might see all that occurs within, especially in light of how frequently it reminds us of the “multitudes” that one might find it so obvious, so saccharine, as to be turned off by it. That said, this feels more like a cynical response, perhaps a gut reaction to seeing such emotionality in a character-driven story played out before us, because — duh — we all do contain multitudes. Humans are complex beings who are comprised of all the people who came before them, who shaped them as they grew older, who touched them in ways they acknowledge and in ways they can’t. And yet, humans are also so self-absorbed that they frequently can’t see themselves beyond any one moment. This means that the light within, the multitude itself, dims and narrows into a singular thing, and that’s how you live your life. I choose to interpret The Life of Chuck as acknowledging that we’re allowed to have more to ourselves than even we realize. This is best articulated in Act II, subtitled “Buskers Forever,” wherein Hiddleston’s Chuck dances. He’s introduced via the Narrator, described top-to-bottom as we observe him get some coffee, sit on a bench, and go for a walk. His sensible suit broken by the flash of color his socks bring out as he walks, denoting a bit of rebellion still within this accomplished accountant. He doesn’t plan to dance, he doesn’t expect to dance, but he’s called to dance and does so through the contagious beat of drum busker Taylor Franck (The Pocket Queen). The sound of Taylor’s beats, specifically the cowbell, induce a memory, just a flash, just the barest piece, of his grandmother Sarah (Mia Sara), who we later learn taught him to dance. In that moment, he lifts his fingers as she did, bopping to the beat, before taking off. When he spies Janice (Annalise Basso) dancing along to Taylor’s beats, he dances over, spins and extends his arms just as his grandmother did to him as a young boy, and beckons Janice to join him. To dance with someone is an extension of trust and love, as we embrace someone and lead them around a space, each dancer allowing space to trade the spotlight, a conversation in movement. We don’t fully understand how Chuck can do everything he can in the walking space of that shopping center, yet the emotion of it is palatable. We don’t need the information that she taught him all of these moves (information that’s made plain in the final act of the film, Act I), but we can deduce it from the memory that sets him off. We can also see, through Hiddleston’s performance, how this is like a bit of freedom for Chuck, a form of expression that’s been bottled up within him. For all the emotion within the third and first acts, it’s the second one that overwhelms me for all it says without saying and all it comes to represent about who Chuck is.
Writer/director Mike Flanagan on the set of Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
Interestingly, while the dancing of Act II causes the tears to flow, what hits like a gut-punch is the sequence between Hamill’s Albie and Pajak’s Chuck in which the discussion of math-as-art occurs. Here, it’s predicated on Chuck being a young boy who doesn’t enjoy math and his grandfather wanting to share something he loves (math) with his grandson. Chuck can’t see the importance of math, preferring instead to want to focus on dancing, which leads Albie to break Chuck in ways that feel all too familiar: Albie tells Chuck that math predicts that Chuck won’t make it as a dancer, but he possesses the skills to be a great artist as an accountant (like he). This conversation, intended to be filled with love and affection, to instill within his grandson a desire to join a path that can lead to prosperity for himself (Chuck) and those who he helps as an accountant, actually sounds like (and the reaction from Pajak as Chuck confirms it) the destruction of a dream. Act II shows us that Chuck is an incredible dancer, but he identifies as an accountant. Why do we do this to ourselves? Why must we pigeonhole into one thing and have that be our identities? Why can’t Chuck do both? No one said he had to do either professionally, but a compromise can surely be struck. The answer: Albie is haunted by the foresight the visions he’s seen in the house’s cupola have provided, inducing the man to live a life of waiting for others to die having seen their end (even his own). What kind of life must Albie have lived where he knows how it’s all going to end? He mentions the waiting as the worst part, which itself implies that rather than living a life of experience, he’s done the safe thing in preparation for his end. By contrast, what we come to learn as we explore Chuck’s life in semi-reverse, is that Chuck chose, in some form, to not wait for his death, but to explore his life. It’s a small solace against his life’s end and the artistic way in which its conclusion is rendered, but it’s a beautiful rebellion, an act of defiance that maybe hints that Chuck didn’t get as totally destroyed by Albie was one might think.
L-R: Annalise Basso as Janice Halliday and Tom Hiddleston as Charles Krantz in Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
Having not read the short story in Stephen King’s anthology If It Bleeds, I can’t speak to its accuracy in terms of adaptation, but Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck is about as painful and beautiful as the adaptations of King’s The Green Mile (1999) and The Shawshank Redemption (1994). Yes, it’s a little repetitive with the reference to “multitudes,” but it also maintains a clear traditional structure, despite its reverse chronological delivery. You can see how the colors within and construction of the sky in the final moments of Act III are a combination of what young Chuck experienced after the school dance. You can see how the school around which so much of Act III takes place was a location with significance in Chuck’s life. We can understand that the reference to PornHub isn’t just a masturbatory joke, but a realization that it’s the part of Chuck’s life experience that’s been entirely wiped from his dying mind. Sex is an important part of the human experience to those who are comfortable engaging in it. Like dancing, it involves trust and love (there are many kinds, so don’t get pedantic, folks) and removing that from Chuck’s memory is another blow to the already fading soul. So while some aspects may seem juvenile or unimportant, perhaps even repetitive, there is nothing within Flanagan’s adaptation that isn’t related to or connected to some aspect of the narrative that we, as the audience, will be privy to and, therefore, carry on a different meaning when viewed through the thematic lens the film constructs.
L-R: Actor Cody Flanagan as Charles Krantz and writer/director Mike Flanagan on the set of Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
The included bonus features on the home release allow for a general exploration of the film before narrowing into a targeted look at each of the three acts via three of the actors in those acts. The 17-minute “The Making of The Life of Chuck” is the general exploration with several talking head interviews with cast and crew as they discuss everything from how Flanagan and producer Trevor Macy (Doctor Sleep; Hush; Gerald’s Game) attached themselves to the project, how the cast responds to the themes of the film, and the themes of the film. Flanagan wears his heart on his sleeve throughout this featurette, his emotions shining through as he quietly-yet-passionately chats about the significance of this project compared to other films he’s helmed thus far. The deeper dives come in three select interviews with actors Hiddleston (Loki), Chiwetel Ejiofor (Serenity), and Mark Hamill (Avatar: The Last Airbender) as they each — in reduced runtime featurettes — invite audiences into each of their Acts. For Hiddleston, amid discussion of how he got attached to the project in the 14-minute featurette, we’re treated to a deeper look at the prep into the phenomenal dance sequence via footage of him working solo or with assistant choreographer Stephanie Powell (Wicked) on the material developed by choreographer Mandy Moore (Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour; IF), what it was like shooting on location in Alabama, and why he wanted to take on this role specifically. In the 10-minute conversation with Ejiofor, he talks about his admiration for scene partner Karen Gillan (Oculus; Dual), how he jumped at the chance to work with Flanagan, and his view of the connective tissue for each Act. The shortest of the featurettes is the nearly-nine-minute featurette with Hamill, a newish member of the Flanagan troupe of actors, who touches on the connection he made with the cast, the difficulty of learning the four pages of dialogue for his big speech regarding math-as-art, and other little tidbits about his on-set experience. There’s mild overlap between the three featurettes and the general one with the smaller featurettes providing greater context for the thoughts initially shared. Of course, for the deepest dive into The Life of Chuck, head to the feature-length commentary track with Flanagan. Lastly, there are two trailers (one teaser; one full) and two TV spots marketing the film.
Mark Hamill as Albie Krantz in Mike Flannigan’s THE LIFE OF CHUCK. Photo courtesy of NEON.
Despite the above paragraphs suggesting otherwise, it’s actually quite difficult to convey just how much The Life of Chuck moved me in both the original watch and the rewatch. It’s even more difficult to express how perfect this film is. I tried in July and I’m not sure that more words upon words will do the feeling this film inspires any kind of justice. We are both comprised of the energy of long-burned out stars as we are the choices we make, as we are the people who have come into our lives. We’re allowed to be more than what others think of ourselves and, more importantly, we’re allowed to be more than *we* think *we* are. We don’t have to wait for life to mean something, we can make meaning every day in the active choices within the moments of our lives. We can love, laugh, cry, be hurt, be lonely, be together, we can be still, and, yes, we can dance. All of these things, none of these things, and everything in between. At a time when ignorance seems to be leading global change, it feels good to remember that maybe, just maybe, we’ll all be ok because, as long as we draw breath, we can make the choice to connect, to love, and to dance.
The Life of Chuck Special Features:
- Feature commentary with writer/director Mike Flanagan
- The Making of The Life of Chuck (17:32)
- On-set interview with actor Tom Hiddleston (14:20)
- On-set interview with actor Chiwetel Ejiofor (10:10)
- On-set interview with actor Mark Hamill (8:45)
- Teaser (1:14)
- Trailer (1:52)
- Heart (0:31)
- Multitudes (0:31)
Available on digital July 29th, 2025.
Available on 4K UHD, Blu-ray, and DVD September 30th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official NEON The Life of Chuck webpage.
Final Score: 5 out of 5.
Share this:
Categories: Films To Watch, Home Release, Recommendation
Leave a Reply