Cell VS. Cell
Cell is that Stephen King book and movie that everyone forgets is a Stephen King book and movie. It might be because when you think of Stephen King you don’t usually think of zombies, and when I think of Cell I don’t necessarily think of zombies either. Whether or not Cell is really part of the zombie horror genre, I leave that up to you the reader to decide.
Cell – A Book
Clayton Riddell is an unassuming graphic artist who’s on his way home from Boston after landing the deal of a lifetime to publish his own graphic novel. Unfortunately for him, this is the day that “The Pulse” happens. The Pulse is an entirely phone based event where anyone who’s on their phone at around 3 in the afternoon on October 1st sometime in the mid-2000s gets their mind wiped causing them to suddenly and violently go crazy. Mass murder and mass panic ensues. As hysteria reins and people try to call for help more get hit by the Pulse and the Apocalypse begins.
Clay, who’s cell phoneless, avoids the Pulse, but from his vantage point on a random Boston street corner, things go downhill fast as “phone crazies” attack and kill people all around him. During the initial chaos Clay manages to save a gay guy named Tom McCourt, who joins him for the rest of the book for lack of anything better to do. Eventually they also pick up a traumatized 14 year old girl named Alice.
Fleeing Boston as it burns, our mains become refugees in the cell phone Apocalypse. Clay’s main objective is trying to get home to his wife and son Johnny G (they must have been really big fans of Kenny G is all I can think), Tom really wants to check on his cat, and Alice is mostly just coming along with them since she had to kill the only family she had apparently. They meet other “normies”, none Pulse affected people, along the road, and it is a very long road. There might be more walking in this book than in the whole ten seasons of The Walking Dead combined.
The phone crazies aren’t your typical “brainssssss” zombies. They might bite and stab, but they’re not after your juicy human meats. After the initial homicidal panic from the Pulse, they quickly start to change and evolve into something entirely different. You learn how all this happens from a 12 year old character in the book named Jordan, who apparently can figure all this out because he knows computer basics. As the phone crazies go from individual threats to a hive mind, Clay and his band become targets of the phone crazies new world order.
Thoughts – An effort was made
This book, more than anything else, feels downright frustrating. From the big flashing TECHNOLOGY BAD sign throughout it, to the one note characters, to the lack of clarity into just how the Pulse happened, and the halting pace of the entire book where things start to pick up only to slow down again to mourn for characters that you don’t really care about all that much about. Clay is not a very interesting main character to spend an entire book with. His one and only concern is to get home to his wife and son; no thoughts for other family, friends, coworkers or the greater effect the events that are unfolding around them are going to have on the future. As eager as Clay is to get home though, there are so many detours that slow the whole book down that at times it seems like the book is trying to replicate a phoner in reboot mode. As much as the book tries to push the found family trope it falls flat in that effort too. Despite spending time getting to know random characters, the fact remains that these were people Clay met only a hour to a day or two ago, so any real connection between the characters is somewhat lost.
The beginning of the apocalypse here, which takes at least 100 pages, could be the same as any typical zombie or plague movie or book (think World War Z on a local level only with the most average guy ever instead of Brad Pitt). It’s not until the phoners start changing to something other than mindless zombies that things really get interesting. The characters actually start to have some doubts and moral dilemmas about the mass killing of beings that used to be human, but may not be any longer. The problem is, things also get so convoluted and motivations of the phoner hive mind remain so dim that the big climax and the ending of the book feels supremely unsatisfying as a whole.
The book may hold more disappointment for me than enjoyment, but it’s not the worst book I’ve ever read, nor even the worst Stephen King book, but it’s still not ranked anywhere near the top of my Stephen King must read list.
Cell – A Movie
This may be a rare instance where a movie is actually better than the book it was based off of. Perhaps it’s because the movie trims all the unnecessary fat and characters from the book to fit it into its hour and a half running time, but the entire premise seems to work better as a movie. The screenplay is still written by Stephen King and Adam Alleca, and the plot is basically the same as the book, with a few key differences.
Clay in the movie is played by the ever pleasant and sad eyed John Cusack, who brings a real feeling of humanity to the character of Clay that was lacking in the book. Clay’s still a graphic artist on his way home to his estranged wife and son, only now the phone Apocalypse starts for him in a Boston airport, which is a much more exciting start than a random street corner.
Escaping the chaos at the airport for the subway, Clay runs into the movie version of Tom, played by Samuel L. Jackson, who bears pretty much no resemblance to Tom from the book. Movie Tom is now a subway driving, Vietnam vet, devoice who, like Clay, is caught up in everything going on. To the movie’s credit, there is a throwaway line that Tom is still gay, even if it’s blink and you’ll miss it. Tom has Clay’s down to earth attitude about the end of the world and it’s easy to understand why they might stick together this time around. They also find their own traumatized Alice Maxwell, played by Isabelle Fuhrman.
Perhaps the biggest change from the book to the film is the sense of solitude the survivors experience while heading north. Wide shots of isolated cell phone towers in nature add to the feeling, and the low budget independent film look of the movie makes for some realism in a way that World War Z or the Dawn of the Dead remake lacks. When the leads do run into other normies, instead of the stereotypical Stephen King crazy religious ladies or redneck yokels from the book, you get some likeable average Joe type people who are willing to help Clay’s crew out. Even character deaths of one-off characters in the movie seem to hold more weight than they do in the book.
The phone crazies powers are trimmed down from the book as well, and at the same time become much scarier when they start admitting the Pulse (which sounds a lot like an AOL dial-up tone) from their mouths in order to infect remaining normies. At that point it becomes a survival of the fittest species type movie.
After King changed the ending for the movie from the book because of criticism of the book ending, the movie ending is still just as confusing. While the book’s ending is a bit more on the hopeful side, in general I still preferred the new movie ending to the book ending.
But seriously, don’t ask me what’s going on here cause I haven’t got a clue.
Final Girl Thoughts
If you’re the type of person who needs every plot point explained in great detail, this is definitely not the book or the movie for you. If you like your apocalypses more on the confusing side, then you might enjoy Cell. There’s some of the typical Stephen King unusualness that happens, the shadowy figure haunting the mains every step (this time called the Raggedy Man or the President of Harvard or the President of the Internet, whichever you prefer) and characters having psychological breakdowns on the regular. Cell, both the movie and the book, definitely have that Stephen King mark on them, though they perhaps lack the deeper themes that make for a real Stephen King classic. My recommendation, watch the movie for free on Tubi and skip the book entirely.
(3 / 5)
Imagine this. You’re home alone, waiting for your partner to return, when you hear a knock on your door. You answer it to see a family of five, bundled up against the cold. The father, a kindly older gentleman, explains that he used to live in this house as a boy. And he would love to show it to his family.
Do not let them in.
The story
Released in June 2024, We Used To Live Here is author Marcus Kliewer’s debut novel. It tells the story of Eve, who just purchased a beautiful house with her partner, Charlie. Their plan is to flip the house and sell it.
One night, while waiting for Charlie to come home, Eve is surprised by a knock at the door. It’s a man named Thomas Faust and his family.
Thomas explains that he grew up in the house and hasn’t been in the area in years. Would Eve let them in so that he can show the home to his children?
Against her better judgment, Eve lets them in. She regrets this almost at once when Thomas’s daughter vanishes somewhere into the house.
What worked
I always appreciate a book that allows you to play along with the mystery. And this book does that better than just about any other I’ve seen.
Pay close attention to the chapters, to the words that aren’t there. To everything about this novel.
This is mostly down to Kliewer. This is ultimately his work of art. But the production value is also fantastic. I don’t want to ruin the multiple mysteries, so I’ll just say this. There are clues in this book that require some specific artistic choices in the page layouts in this book. And I loved that.
If you’d like to experience another horror book review, check out this one.
We Used To Live Here is also the kind of story that makes you question everything right along with the main character, Eve. Eve is a great main character. But she might be an unreliable narrator. She might be experiencing every single horror described, exactly as it’s described. Or, she might be having a psychotic breakdown. Through most of the book, we can’t be sure. And that is so much fun.
Finally, the weather plays a large part in this story. There are several stories in which the weather or the land itself could be considered a character. Even an antagonist. This is certainly one. The winter storm is the thing that traps the family in the house with Eve. It also makes escaping the home difficult. Reading this book during the winter was especially impactful. Most of us know what it feels like to be shut in by a storm. I’ve personally lived through some of those storms that are just referred to by their year, as though they were impactful enough to claim the whole 365 days for themself. And that was with people I liked. Imagine what it would feel like with strangers. It’s a staggering thought and one that we explore in depth in this book.
In the end, We Used To Live Here is a fantastic book. It’s the sort of story that sneaks into your brain and puts down roots. And if this is just the first book we’re getting from Kliewer, I can’t wait to see what else he comes up with.
(5 / 5)
As a disclaimer, this is a review of The House of My Mother from a critical perspective. I will not be discussing my opinions of the legal case against Ruby Franke and Jody Hildebrandt. I will be discussing the merits of the book as a work of true crime alone.
In 2015, Ruby Franke started a YouTube channel called 8 Passengers. In August of 2023, Franke and her business associate Jodi Hildebrandt were arrested for, and later plead guilty to, charges of aggravated child abuse. And in January of this year, Shari Franke told her story in The House of My Mother.
The story
The House of My Mother is the true story of Shari Franke, the oldest child of one of the most famous family vlogger families.
As a child, Shari came to the conclusion that her mother didn’t like her. Soon, she began to fear her mother’s anger.
Things got significantly worse when Ruby started their family vlog. All of the families most intimate moments were splashed across the internet for anyone to watch. This became a living nightmare for Shari.
Of course, that was only the start of the family nightmare. Because Ruby was about to meet someone who would reinforce all of the darkest parts of herself.
Eventually Shari manages to escape her home. But her younger siblings were still in her mother’s clutches. She had to save them, and her father, from the monster her mother had become.
What worked
Through the book, Shari only ever mentions the name of one of her siblings, Chad. This is because Chad is the only of her siblings that is an adult at the time of the publication.
There are children involved in this story. Children who’s lives and privacy have already been damaged. Shari didn’t want to do that to them again, and neither do I.
It probably won’t surprise you that this book is full of upsetting details. But not in the way you might imagine.
Nowhere in this book will you find gory details about the abuse the Franke kids suffered. And I consider that a good thing. Those sort of details are all fun and games when we’re talking fiction. When it’s real kids who are really living with the damage, it’s not a good time.
What you’ll find instead is a slew of more emotionally devastating moments. One that stuck with me is when Ruby’s mother gives her a pair of silk pajamas as a gift after Ruby gave birth to one of her babies. Shari asks Ruby if she’d bring her silk pajamas when she had a baby. Ruby responds that yes, when Shari becomes a mother they can be friends.
What a lovely way to make a little girl feel like she’s not worth anything unless she reproduces. And, if she does decide to have children, who is going to bring her silk pajamas?
In the end, this isn’t a story about ghosts or demons. It’s not about a serial killer waiting on a playground or in the attic of an unsuspecting family. Instead, this is a story about things that really keep us up at night. It’s the story of a woman so obsessed with perfection that she drove away her eldest daughter. The story of a young woman who’s forced to watch from afar as her beloved brothers and sisters are terrorized and abandoned. These are the sorts of things that really keep us up at night. These are the real nightmares.
More than that, though, The House of My Mother is a story of survival. It’s about a family that was ripped apart and somehow managed to stitch itself back together again. It’s about a brave young woman who managed to keep herself safe and sane in the face of a nightmare. If you haven’t read it yet, I can’t recommend it enough.
For more like this, check out my review of Shiny Happy People.
(5 / 5)
Boreal: an Anthology of Taiga Horror is a collection of twenty-two haunting tales that dwell in the deepest darkest woods and frozen wastelands, edited by Katherine Silva and including Haunted MTL’s very own Daphne Fauber. Each story has even been gifted with its very own poster, hinting at the horrors to be found within it, bestowing a beautiful visual collection as well.
The tales are varied and touch upon the environment in new and different ways, each hearkening to a sort of epiphany or raised awareness. These stories exude both dread and wonder at the smallness of our human existence in contrast to the sacred world we have isolated from, sheltering ourselves in our comfortable houses with centralized heat and everything we could possibly need or want at the ready. The taiga becomes a sanctuary outside of our own dulled awarenesses. It is a holy place imbued with powers beyond mortal human reach, a wilderness that threatens to swallow us – both whole and bit by bit, simultaneously.
The protagonists enter into this realm through ritual, superstition, longing, stubbornness, and their own hubris – yearning to survive its dangers, and to make their own marks upon it. The starkness of their surroundings harbors delicate moments that would be all too easily missed if not deliberately sought or pointed out. The softness of fur, the dappled sunlight shining through trees, the hazy clouds of breath forming in crisp air, the brittleness of bleached bone… those quiet experiences that beg to be forgotten, to lay safely sleeping just below the frozen surface, awaiting spring.
There are those who followed in the footsteps of their predecessors, seeking to escape the constraints of their parent’s and elders’ indoctrination, traditions, madness, and abuse, yearning to find their own way despite also being inextricably bound to their own pasts. There are those who just wanted to go for a walk in the woods, and remained forever changed by what they experienced. There are those who wished to impose their will upon the wilderness, their order falling to disarray, unable to make lasting impact. There are those who sought to leave behind the world of mankind, looking for oneness in the natural order of things through isolation, leaving a bit of themselves behind after being consumed by the terrors they encountered. There are those who truly found communion with the woods, became one with its wildness, and invited its spirit into their hearts to find peace, even at cost of their own lives. And then, there are the spirits themselves…
(3 / 5)
All in all, I give Boreal: an Anthology of Taiga Horror 3.0 Cthulhus. I love existential angst so I found it to be an enjoyable read, and I appreciated the myriad manners in which the biome was explored. But there were points in which I found myself struggling to follow along, as if the words were swept up into their own wilds in ways that alienated myself as reader, as if my mere voyeurism into this otherworldly place was not enough to comprehend the subtle deviations in storytelling mannerisms fully. I suppose in some sense this seems appropriate, but at the same time, it left me feeling a bit unfulfilled, as if I had missed a spiritual connection that should have resonated more deeply.