Kubrick's magnificently chilly version of Stephen King's novel is unsurpassed in suggesting the isolation and incipient madness of winter. A not really recovering alcoholic takes his family to a Gilded Age hotel to serve as keeper for the off season. The Overlook Hotel is one of cinema's best monsters, not a falling down rattrap it's big, so big, and gold and rich brown, and beautiful. But the lights always seem to glow a bit too brightly in the hallways, the rooms don't quite seem to match, and the hallways seem to end up wherever they please. It's a hungry place, and Wendy Carlos' score underlines its primeval appetites. A winter's tale, for those long nights when the ice seems to have teeth.
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