For the longest time, the conventional wisdom was that, with a handful of exceptions, the only good Stephen King adaptations, especially in a time when such films were plentiful, were the ones that weren’t horror movies. True, there were exceptions, but the best King adaptations seemed to be the times the adaptation was for something other than horror. I’m thinking specifically about Stand by Me and The Shawshank Redemption. The latter, the focus for this entry in the Stacker Countdown, was the first of three generally acclaimed adaptations of King’s work written and directed by Frank Darabont, the other two being The Mist and The Green Mile.
I haven’t seen The Mist yet, but from what I know of its reputation, I’d say anytime Darabont writes and directs a King adaptation, so it’s probably worth a look.
As it is, The Shawshank Redemption, despite being something of a financial flop on release, is rightfully considered a modern classic today, the film that probably cemented Morgan Freeman’s reputation as a reassuring figure when he isn’t just the wisest man in the film. Personally, I always use it and Pulp Fiction as examples on why the Oscars can’t be trusted to get it right because both Pulp Fiction and Shawshank Redemption lost Best Picture that year to the good-but-not-great Forrest Gump. But what makes Shawshank so great? It didn’t catch on with audiences until after it hit basic cable and home video. Why?
I think part of it is simple: it may have been a King adaptation, but it wasn’t a horror film. Instead, it was a much more human story. I can’t lay claim to seeing a lot of prison films, but my general impression of many of them is they may be more stories of either escape or survival, and that’s if they’re not just outright exploitative. Shawshank seems to take a different route as the film focuses on the humanity of the convicts inside of Shawshank prison. Yes, these are men convicted of various crimes, most of whom claim to be innocent, but the key word here is they are men, and when the wrongfully convicted Andy Dufresne (a never-better Tim Robbins) shows up, Andy seems to make it his mission in life to see to it his fellow inmates are treated like human beings and not just the rotten animals that the guards led by Captain Hadley (Clancy Brown) seem to think or just as potential converts and money-making opportunities that the self-serving Warden Norton (Bob Gunton) seems to see.
Instead, the film shows the prison as a place for camaraderie where the convicts have their games but need to be reminded what the outside world is like. Red (Morgan Freeman) may be able to get anything for a price, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to the psychological confinement that the prison creates. Yes, there is brutality inside of Shawshank, to say nothing of parole boards that rarely seem to grant parole, but said brutality seems to come more from Hadley and his guards than from other prisoners, even if the ones Red refers to as the Sisters are hardly gentle when it comes to taking what they want. The thing is, Andy may be innocent, a bit stand-offish at first, given to odd hobbies involving shaping and polishing rocks, and probably far more educated than the other inmates, but he’s also a man of quiet reserve and a far higher amount of willpower than the others.
That’s largely visible when considering the fate of old timer Brooks (a fantastic James Whitmore), a man who entered Shawshank when cars were rare and spent so much time on the inside, raising a crow from a hatchling while running the prison library, but unlike Jake (presumably), that he can’t handle life on the outside. I have to say that the scene of Brooks’s hanging himself is a beautiful bit of misdirection. Packing a suitcase like he’s looking to leave town and then later taking out a small knife, his hanging is one of the saddest scenes in the film, largely because Brooks seemed to be one of the most harmless men in the prison, a man who spent half a century inside and didn’t quite see how to deal with a life without the prison walls around his body and mind. That Darabont reframes the same moments with Red later in the film, showing how Red unlike Brooks had the ability to get away thanks to Andy, just makes Andy’s final act to help his friend Red actually live as a free man all the more moving.
Seriously, this is the sort of film that can produce tears in an audience and for good reason. Andy’s escape from Shawshank may be miraculous, showcasing his role as a Christ figure as he is symbolically reborn and baptized clean by the rain, but given The Green Mile, this is a far more subtle take on a prisoner-as-Jesus thing from both King and Darabont.
Instead, I prefer to see this film as a testament to Andy Dufrense’s patience and willpower. Prison does things to people, but Andy can tolerate time in the hole with just the memory of music, music he plays for the other inmates but that only seems to be unappreciated by the warden and the guards. Andy may not act like he wants to fit in at first, but he knew the simple pleasures of life and worked to get them for the other convicts, whether it’s a cold beer or a harmonica, and he doesn’t do these things for himself. He does them for the others. He’s an innocent man, one who only became a criminal after he’d been in prison for a while, but he doesn’t look down on men like Red, Brooks, Heywood, or Tommy. Instead, he helps them make their time behind those solid stone walls tolerable.
But really, Andy isn’t the one discovering that humanity. It’s already there. Yeah, these men take bets on which new prisoner will break down and cry during the first night, but after that, the “winner” is quick to tell the poor man to quiet down before Hadley gets there, and from there, well, Heywood isn’t looking too good about what happened. Yeah, he won the bet, but the fat prisoner died, and Andy is the only one to ask if the dead man’s name was known. It’s not that Heywood and the others are completely uncaring. They just need a nudge to be better. Andy gives them that.
From there, Andy just makes prison life better. It’s not great, but it’s better. He’s a man who decides to make friends and try to show them how to live with a life sentence. I’d even go so far to say this is basically One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest with more security.
So really, Shawshank Redemption isn’t a story about prisoners. It’s a story about people. It’s about being human in an inhumane setting. It’s about helping your fellow man, particularly a fellow man that plenty of other people don’t think deserve a helping hand. It’s about how the little things can make a person feel free. It’s about staying mentally strong no matter what happens to you. It’s about patience, and how an unassuming banker can spend years secretly digging his way out of prison and making sure the truly guilty parties inside of Shawshank pay for the crimes their respectability kept from public view for far too long. It’s about what it means to be free, to have hope, and to keep your wits about you when life has you crawling through other people’s shit.
It’s just that sometimes, that crawling is rather literal.
NEXT: Hey, after the last few entries covered films I’ve seen before, I have something up next that I’ve never seen before. Come back soon for 1959’s Anatomy of a Murder.
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