1408

Something wickedly fun this way comes. Mikael Håfström’s splendidly camp and genuinely spooky movie is adapted from a short story that’s so recognisably Stephen King, it might have been written by somebody else. 1408 pivots around a cynical hack writer (Cusack) who has turned his back on his early quality work to churn out titles such as Ten Nights in Ten Haunted Houses and Ten Nights in Ten Haunted Graveyards. In this line of duty, he attempts to stay in the Dolphin Hotel (named for Murakami’s similarly sinister auberge in A Wild Sheep Chase) only to face dire warnings from Sam Jackson’s Cassandra-like concierge. After a superbly comic stand-off and some legal meandering, Cusack finally gets the key to a diabolical room that might more properly fit in the Overlook Hotel.
He cakewalks through the first few minutes, amusing himself with snooty remarks into his trusty Dictaphone. Suddenly, The Carpenters’ ‘We’ve Only Just Begun’ blares out of the clock radio. Then things get even scarier.
If you imagined that old-fashioned creaks and jumps were a spent force, then think again. Half of the tricks in 1408 date back to 1764 when Horace Walpole wrote The Castle Of Otranto. Spectres appear. Pictures move. Chill winds blow indoors. But the director delivers hokum with such aplomb, and with such impeccable timing, that you’ll happily send Mr. Disbelief packing. In a year when Hostel Part 2, Captivity and Paradise Lost have splattered everything that moves, this is a charming fairground ride psyche-out.
Sam Jackson, channelling Rosalie Crutchley for a wonderfully heightened turn, has his tongue so far in his cheek he might well be auditioning for a Deep Throat sequel. The room itself combines the menace of HAL, the torments of Repulsion and all the merriment of an ancient Indian burial ground. But this is very much the Cusack Show. As this most affable presence runs the emotional gamut, you’ll find yourself pondering the eeriest of all mysteries – why has he completely disappeared from our screens again?