39 years ago, Stanley Kubrick played a game of chicken with Stephen King’s novel “The Shining”, redefining the term “loose adaptation” as he bent the source material to his will. In the process, Kubrick created not just one of the greatest horror films of all time but one of the very best films regardless of genre. Ever an industry maverick, Kubrick swung an axe at King’s IP (“Here’s Johnny” indeed), hacking the story into one more befitting the film medium and his own vision. This meant stripping away the more abject supernatural horrors (though there’s no shortage of rotting bathers and ghost furry lifestylers) and replacing them Jack Torrence’s descent into catacombs of his own inner madness.

Replacing the less-interesting conceit of yet another haunted house, it was Jack’s mind that was the real haunted grounds now. His perfect storm of unbridled alcoholism, professional implosion, familial malaise, and psychological deterioration made The Shining into a story that was more relatable, more human, and ultimately more terrifying. Countless have faced the unspeakable menace of spousal abuse, or been the victim of alcoholism’s icy grip. Many fewer have gawked a pair of identical twin ghosts wanting to play forever or an elevator exploding out waves of blood.

Doctor Sleep, an adaptation of King’s 2013 novel of the same name, recaptures that relatable human horror, and in the confident hands of Mike Flanagan, digs even deeper into the psyche of its troubled principal characters. Older and beaten down by life, Danny (Ewan McGregor) faces demons both literal and metaphorical. Understandably, all the “dad trying to kill me and mom” stuff from that fated winter at the Overlook Hotel has left adult Danny desperate for the perpetual brainwash of booze. And boozes he does.

Alcoholism, a demon Stephen King faced for years, plays a prominent role in Doctor Sleep but in a thematic reversal from The Shining, there is hope and redemption here that always alluded Jack Torrence. Even to his grave. When Danny rediscovers purpose away from the bottle as a caretaker in a New Hampshire hospice care facility, he becomes mental penpals with Abra (Kyliegh Curran). Forging a telepathic connection with the young girl with her own case of hyper-powered “shine”, Danny has a reason to live and a friend who he feels the need to protect. The relationship between the two characters is the cornerstone of Doctor Sleep’s pathos, with newcomer Curran doing an extraordinary job portraying a child of unusual moral complexity to accompany her exhaustive mental powers.

As a follow up to The Shining, Doctor Sleep never really stood a stand measuring up to Kubrick’s creation but instead of endeavoring to compete with an unflappable masterpiece, Flanagan has crafted a soulful tribute that carries on Danny’s story while offering plenty of thematic symmetry to the original saga. Flanagan’s use of formal mirroring is impressive, with the director recreating scenes from Kubrick’s film using different actors (Flanagan makes the smart decision to recast rather than de-age or computer animate “exact” replicas), allowing us to step back into the past and re-experience The Shining highlights, while giving us a little more context for what happened immediately after the events previously depicted.

Diehard fans and casual admirers alike will spot the parallel use of gesture, location, and dialogue that Flanagan has successfully tucked into the folds of Doctor Sleep, the horror auteur laboring to reward his audience with nods that don’t condescend his audience with feeble-minded hits of nostalgia or unnecessary fan service gimmick. Rather, the nods and callbacks are baked into the emotional essence of Danny’s recovery and Abra’s emergence as “gifted” and becomes an important part of our appreciation of the larger thematic scheme of things.

Infinitely mores than Kubrick’s film, Flanagan’s is true to King’s lengthy novel, almost to a fault. At 152 minutes, Doctor Sleep is a weighty affair, from both an emotional perspective (this film is legit traumatizing at times) and simply a time management one. That this sequel both requires and deserves patience speaks to Flanagan’s comfort telling long-winded emotional epics, a la The Haunting of Hill House, even if this film doesn’t quite measure up to that outstanding Netflix series. Nonetheless, Doctor Sleep traverses an emotionally decadent saga that encompasses no small number of heavy themes with true grace and a notable cast to boot.

Led by a very able McGregor, the performers large and small puts in fine work, none moreso than Rebecca Ferguson as Rose the Hat, the leader of a sinister band of “shine”-eaters called the True Knot. Her bohemian vampirism makes for a campy but compelling villain, one who poses a legitimate threat to Danny and Abra, with Ferguson flexing her creep muscle behind flickering beady eyes and evil yoga poses.

Horror movies of all sizes and stripes need a good scare now and then (us junkies depend on this after all) and though this is a movie that is not often overtly terrifying, Flanagan’s terror is more centered in a contemplative and thought-provoking exploration of trauma and death, favoring depressing dramatic gravity over quick scares at every opportunity. Doctor Sleep is comfortable philosophizing on the nature of loss and moving on and has perhaps one of the most authentic, meaningful, and assured depictions of that process in any horror film I can think of. This doesn’t mean that it’s missing key jump-up-and-shit-your-pants moments though, as when things get really nasty, like when a captured baseball boy is accosted by the True Knot, the horror can be truly spine-chilling and is made all the more effective by its infrequent use.

In a much-belated extension of the olive branch, Flanagan does what Kubrick could not, altering the original ending of this novel to amend major structural changes done on Kubrick’s behalf nearly 40-years ago. Alterations that function within the context of this story to tie in the previous film while actually improving on the source material. Every tweak and alteration is purposeful and poignant, further proof of Flanagan’s ability as a filmic craftsman, and helps make Doctor Sleep into the most mindful of spinetinglers.

CONCLUSION: With forceful dramatic inertia and a thoughtful depiction of trauma and addiction, ‘Doctor Sleep’ is not your average horror movie. But what less can you expect from Mike Flanagan? That it’s a long and slow journey may turn certain viewers off, but those looking for a horror movie with soul have come to the right place.