“We all do what we can, and it has to be good enough, and if it isn’t good enough, it has to do…”
- Stephen King, The Dead Zone
Stephen King’s The Dead Zone would have made a perfectly snappy short story or novella: A man gets into a car accident, slips into a coma, wakes up five years later, and can foresee a person’s future by touching them. He runs into an ascendant politician, realizes the man is a mortal danger to the nation, and sets out to stop him. The climax sets you up to expect one thing, then delivers another.
Boom. The End.
Like I said, this would have made a fine short story, or even an episode of The Twilight Zone. The concept takes a very common trope – the apparent blessing that is actually a curse – and overlays that onto a very clean, very effectual story arc. Indeed, in his adaptation, Cronenberg boiled the plot down to its bones, yet his film – a sleek hour-and-forty-three minutes – doesn’t miss a single story beat.
But this is Stephen King we’re talking about.
While a solid short-story writer in his own right, King is best known for his ability to write massively entertaining doorstoppers of prodigious length. Coming in at 426-hardcover pages, The Dead Zone does not have anywhere near the mass of The Stand, It, or Under the Dome, but it is expansive enough to provide an epic character study of an ordinary man named Johnny Smith, who flies through a windshield, falls into a half-decade slumber, and awakes with the terrible gift of prophecy.
By the end, my only wish is that it was longer.
In many ways, this does not feel like a typical Stephen King novel (and I feel I am slowly reading enough of his vast back-catalogue to venture these observations). For one, it is a psychological thriller, with nary a horror element in sight. For another, it has a certain seriousness of purpose. Many of King’s literary tics – the careful curating of pop cultural trivia; the garrulous characters who answer yes/no questions with lengthy monologues; the fetishization of rock-and-roll – are missing. Instead, he plants his story (published in 1979) firmly in the midst of Nixon’s America, riffing on the governmental mistrust and paranoid politics that defined the era. The shadow of Vietnam and the specter of Watergate have cast their pall over others of King’s books. Here, it takes up a podium on center stage, as King delivers a rather pointed critique along with the usual twists and turns.
It also features a brief cameo by Jimmy Carter!
I have found King to be at his peak when his focus is tightest. My favorites – Pet Sematary, Christine, The Shining – have a limited number of characters, powerful themes, and the emotional wallop you get only when an author knows exactly what he is attempting to convey. The Dead Zone falls into this category, to a point.
Johnny Smith is the star of this show, and though King allows his third-person viewpoint to rove at will, most of the novel is devoted to his experiences. While Johnny is prone to bouts of self-pity (which is probably an accurate depiction, but is a personality attribute that doesn’t exactly leap off the page), he is genuinely compelling, especially as the years go by, and the aftershocks of his car accident take their toll. Despite the lackluster name, Smith is really well drawn. He often acts in an irritating way, or says irritating things, but he always acts and speaks in a way that is in keeping with his fundamental nature.
(As an aside: The novel proper begins in 1970 and ends in 1978. King does a marvelous job of efficiently evoking the passage of this time, especially the years when Johnny is in a coma).
The supporting cast, however, is a bit of a mixed-bag in terms of quality and memorability. Roger Chatsworth, for instance, a wealthy man who hires Johnny as a tutor, is complex and multifaceted. There were times when I expected him to act in rote, stereotypical ways, and he didn’t, which is always a nice surprise. The relationship between Johnny and Dr. Sam Weizak is also effective, conjuring a real sense of mutual affection.
Others, though, are underwritten or bluntly cliched. Johnny’s onetime girlfriend Sarah is nothing more than “the one who got away,” and their brief romance is too slender a reed to support the weighty emotions King heaps upon it. Johnny’s mother is a religious zealot who we are asked – more like demanded – to despise. It would have been far more interesting if King had allowed that she was right about certain things. An entire subplot – featuring a Castle Rock sheriff and a serial killer – feels rushed and half-baked.
Then there is conundrum of Gregory Ammas Stillson, the big-bad of The Dead Zone. If we were to place him on the moral spectrum, he would be all in black. There is not a hint of gray, not even the suggestion of shading. When we first meet him, he stomps a dog to death.
That is Greg Stillson in a nutshell.
Thus, in a certain sense, Johnny’s antagonist is one step away from cartoon villainy. And frankly, cartoon villains are boring.
On the other hand, King’s portrait of an insurgent political candidate, a maverick gone rogue, a man-of-the-people populist who wears a hardhat, gives out hotdogs, and is able to whip up his constituencies’ base emotions, is rather captivating.
Other than a rather weak bench, my main criticism of The Dead Zone is that it was too short. Sure, up top, I said this was short-story material. But King convinced me there was a lot more to explore with this idea. Unfortunately, partway through, he seems to have abandoned the notion, and settled for something less ambitious. The Castle Rock serial killer subplot, for instance, either deserved more space, or should have been excised completely. The other characters in Johnny’s orbit could have used an extra dimension or two. Towards the end, it really felt like King was finding ways to cut corners, as a lot of the story’s heavy lifting is done with cheap epistolary techniques, such as quoting letters, newspaper articles, and legal testimony. This left me with a lot of questions, questions that should have been confronted directly, especially with regards to Johnny’s late-game decision-making.
These shortcomings probably keep The Dead Zone out of my personal pantheon of undisputed King masterpieces. Nevertheless, when the harshest condemnation that comes to mind is my desire for more pages, that is rather telling indeed.