2.5 Stars
People who know me are aware that I’m not much of a re-reader. Sure I’ve read Harry Potter a few times, but it’s not a general practice. When I saw Gerald’s Game was a new Netflix original, I thought I should give it another go. I assumed my mediocre rating was due to the fact that I read this back when I was a wee little high schooler and perhaps my delicate psyche wasn’t equipped to deal with it. About halfway through my second go ‘round I realized . . . .
Things might get spoily from here on, so consider yourself warned. The story here is of Jessie and her husband Gerald. Gerald has made big plans to spice up the off-season weekend the two are spending at their lake house . . . .
When Jessie decides she’s just not into Gerald’s latest game, he refuses to take no for an answer and Jessie takes matters into her own hands – or feet, as the case may be – and Gerald? Well . . . .
“Gerald died before he ever had a chance to climb into the saddle, but he fucked me good and proper just the same.”
Leaving Jessie . . . .
You’d think being handcuffed to a bed with no one for miles around to hear your screams for help would be bad enough, but since this is Uncle Stevie readers also get to enjoy a visit from the neighborhood stray, as well as Jessie dealing with the demons of what happened during a summer long since past . . . .
Not to mention potential things that go bump in the night . . . .
Here’s the part where I explain how I had the same (but kinda different) “meh” reaction the second time around. Dear trolls, please remember . . . .
I’m actually going to steal a line from my buddy Dan’s Cujo review because it sums things up perfectly . . . .
“Basically, it's a fantastic short story wrapped in a soap opera I couldn't give two shits about.”
The main plot point of Gerald’s Game is the perfect form of terror for me. I don’t care how a person is trapped – a burning building, a sinking ship, inside a car with a 200 pound rabid St. Bernard trying to murder them, or handcuffed to a bed – the mere idea of not being able to escape gets my heart beating like a rabbit. Some things I didn’t notice when I read this as a kid that I did this time, were that: (1) Jessie wasn’t trapped all that long – I get the initial panic and whatnot, but she really wasn’t going to die if she didn’t get that glass of water right away; (2) was the whole “de-gloving” necessary; or (3) was any of this feasible???? I can’t say I’m curious enough to volunteer to be chained to my bed, but all of the ins and outs of the action seemed pretty far-fetched now that I’m a grown up. As a kid I remember the big reveal of the eclipse being sooooo horrible. Since I’ve been partaking in viewing/reading the “fake news” for a couple of decades now I agree with Jessie’s sentiment . . .
“Let’s face it, Jessie thought. I got off with barely a scratch compared to what could have happened . . . what does happen every day . . . I wasn’t the first daughter to ever find a wet spot on the back of her underpants. That’s not to say it was right, or even excusable; it’s just to say that it’s over, and it could have been a lot worse.”
Please don’t jump my ass about this because I do realize that every person is different and (thank God) I have nothing personally to compare with Jessie’s experience. But would her mind truly have fractured into as many pieces as it did from this one (disgusting) instance????
And finally, let’s talk about this guy . . . . .
I know this worked for some and it was “genius” and blahblahblah, but for me it was another case of no one having the balls to tells King to STFU every once in a while and leave something on the cutting room floor. Good lord, not everything you throw at the wall actually sticks, bro.
If Goodreads had half stars I’d bump this one to 2.5 because it was totally average. There’s even a positive here with the hat-tip to Delores Claiborne during the eclipse because I realized THAT is a story that probably deserves another read.
Things might get spoily from here on, so consider yourself warned. The story here is of Jessie and her husband Gerald. Gerald has made big plans to spice up the off-season weekend the two are spending at their lake house . . . .
When Jessie decides she’s just not into Gerald’s latest game, he refuses to take no for an answer and Jessie takes matters into her own hands – or feet, as the case may be – and Gerald? Well . . . .
“Gerald died before he ever had a chance to climb into the saddle, but he fucked me good and proper just the same.”
Leaving Jessie . . . .
You’d think being handcuffed to a bed with no one for miles around to hear your screams for help would be bad enough, but since this is Uncle Stevie readers also get to enjoy a visit from the neighborhood stray, as well as Jessie dealing with the demons of what happened during a summer long since past . . . .
Not to mention potential things that go bump in the night . . . .
Here’s the part where I explain how I had the same (but kinda different) “meh” reaction the second time around. Dear trolls, please remember . . . .
I’m actually going to steal a line from my buddy Dan’s Cujo review because it sums things up perfectly . . . .
“Basically, it's a fantastic short story wrapped in a soap opera I couldn't give two shits about.”
The main plot point of Gerald’s Game is the perfect form of terror for me. I don’t care how a person is trapped – a burning building, a sinking ship, inside a car with a 200 pound rabid St. Bernard trying to murder them, or handcuffed to a bed – the mere idea of not being able to escape gets my heart beating like a rabbit. Some things I didn’t notice when I read this as a kid that I did this time, were that: (1) Jessie wasn’t trapped all that long – I get the initial panic and whatnot, but she really wasn’t going to die if she didn’t get that glass of water right away; (2) was the whole “de-gloving” necessary; or (3) was any of this feasible???? I can’t say I’m curious enough to volunteer to be chained to my bed, but all of the ins and outs of the action seemed pretty far-fetched now that I’m a grown up. As a kid I remember the big reveal of the eclipse being sooooo horrible. Since I’ve been partaking in viewing/reading the “fake news” for a couple of decades now I agree with Jessie’s sentiment . . .
“Let’s face it, Jessie thought. I got off with barely a scratch compared to what could have happened . . . what does happen every day . . . I wasn’t the first daughter to ever find a wet spot on the back of her underpants. That’s not to say it was right, or even excusable; it’s just to say that it’s over, and it could have been a lot worse.”
Please don’t jump my ass about this because I do realize that every person is different and (thank God) I have nothing personally to compare with Jessie’s experience. But would her mind truly have fractured into as many pieces as it did from this one (disgusting) instance????
And finally, let’s talk about this guy . . . . .
I know this worked for some and it was “genius” and blahblahblah, but for me it was another case of no one having the balls to tells King to STFU every once in a while and leave something on the cutting room floor. Good lord, not everything you throw at the wall actually sticks, bro.
If Goodreads had half stars I’d bump this one to 2.5 because it was totally average. There’s even a positive here with the hat-tip to Delores Claiborne during the eclipse because I realized THAT is a story that probably deserves another read.
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