I have often found myself enamored by the works of Stephen King. Though I am not as much of an avid reader as I once was, his style and distinct tropes have cemented themselves into the mainstays of media. Naturally, many different film adaptations of his works have been produced, a couple of which I have already reviewed, but none have stuck out quite as much as “The Green Mile.” While King has certainly more recognized for his emphasis on horror stories, there is much to be appreciated when it comes to his more grounded works. “The Green Mile” definitely stretches that ‘grounded’ definition, but it’s a story that uses its fantastical elements to frame an otherwise realistic scenario. Reeling of the success of the infamous “Shawshank Redemption”, Frank Darabont returns to the twisted mind of the darkly writer’s works with this inspired adaptation. These adaptations of King’s works can be incredibly polarizing, ranging from excellent to downright atrocious, but “The Green Mile” is something so special that it begs to be interpreted in a unique way. I had always been fascinated by the film, having it seep through the cracks of my mind that claws at the subtle fascination for King’s works that I can’t help be drawn in by. Above all, I look for films that I can deconstruct and derive a greater meaning behind. This film has so many layers of allegory and subtext in relation to racial prejudice and religious symbolism that it was only inevitable that I would gush over it. What is possibly my favorite King adaptation, this is Frank Darabont’s “The Green Mile.”
In a similar vain to the previously mentioned “Shawshank Redemption”, this story focuses on a man who is wrongfully accused of a crime he didn’t commit. John Coffey (Michael Clarke Duncan) is a tall, hulking black man who is sent to prison for the rape and murder of a young girl during a time of great prejudice. Despite his imposing size, he is more of a gentle giant with the mental age of a child. He comes under the watchful eye of prison guard, Paul Edgecomb (Tom Hanks), a man who is dedicated to his job and generally nice to the convicted felons. Though Paul is initially impartial to the imprisonment of the child-like John, he begins to question whether the convict could truly have done what he was accused of. Paul is consistently impeded by fellow guard, Percy Wetmore (Doug Hutchison), who takes great joy in abusing the inmates. Things begin to take a stranger turn when seemingly bizarre events begin to occur. Suffering from a medical issue, Paul finds himself miraculously healed by a simple touch from John. Other miracles begin to take place, such as a mouse being brought back to life, and a fellow inmate being controlled, all from the touch of John’s hands. Paul becomes dead-set on proving John’s innocence, all the while, finding ways to stop Percy from delving further into his abusive power.
By far, the most glaring subject that this film tackles is the ever-relevant issue of racial prejudice. This movie is set in the 1930’s, a time when people of color were treated as second-class citizens and criminals. The character of John Coffey provides the perfect allegory for that judgmental perception. He is presented as a large man with a heavy voice, cradling the body of the dead girl he is accused of murdering. Without hesitation, he is imprisoned. The film cleverly presents John the way that these townspeople see him; as an undeniable murderer, but once we learn of his mental capabilities, suddenly that perception is challenged. The movie is testing those societal cliches by presenting a large black man as a criminal and displaying an opposing personality, even our protagonist, Paul, is subject to this initial idea. Paul represents the very mindset that we should all adapt; to not perceive with any preconceived notions. Percy, on the other hand, represents that abusive behavior, representing the stark reality of those with privilege and power. It is Paul that uses his power for good, Percy is the force that tries to stop that. The racial allegories are something that will garner the attention of anyone watching, and it using that bleak stance as a way to teach its audience the importance of acceptance. I can’t say that this film does this message the greatest in comparison to similar films, but it does manage to isolate those who feel those same prejudices, as if to pull them aside and talk to them on a reasonable level.
The message that is not as clear and transparent comes from the various religious comparisons. John Coffey is seen as something of a martyr, a man that is truly innocent and convicted of a heinous crime he didn’t commit. The other guards that surround Paul are just as taken aback by John’s behavior as he is, beginning to both question and care for the fate of the convict. These religious comparisons are spearheaded by John’s miraculous powers. As grounded as the story appears to be, Coffey exhibits strange and fantastical abilities, as I had mentioned. He has the powers to heal, control others, and even bring living creatures back to life, all this is lost on the very man who is performing these acts. As far as John is concerned, he is simply trying to help people. Those of you who know the ending will be aware of just how far they take these comparisons, adding more and more tragedy to this clearly innocent man. I typically detest the insistence of religious symbolism, as it can come across as overly pretentious, but this film does it in a way that is so beautifully subtle and endearing that it’s hard not to admire the creative intent. This entire allegory only serves to aid in the former one. People are quick to judge those for the color of their skin, but they will often ignore the goodness of the person they lambaste.
Despite my insistence that this film is not a horror, much to the consistency of King’s other works, there is an element of innate fear that comes from the subject matter that is presented. One could find a sense of terror from watching Coffey’s powers in action, especially with how the unnerving score accompanies these looming scenes, but most of the ‘horror’ really comes from the actions of those in power. A rather infamous scene comes from the execution of another inmate. Foreshadowed at an earlier point in the film, we see as Percy purposely makes the death of a man, by electric chair, more torturous and horrifying. The scene goes on for several minutes as we watch a man burn to a crisp as it cuts back and forth between said convict and John Coffey, who can feel the same pain through his powers. The scene is hauntingly grim, but it also perfectly displays everything wrong with both Percy and those with prejudice. His reaction to the situation goes from sadistic joy to sheer horror, showing his cowardice that hides behind a inauthentic title. The horror of this film is derived from the actions of authority figures, not from the large, black man that some would view as the cliched villain. Whether this was truly the intent of either the director or King himself is unclear, it certainly feels like there is an attempt to challenge those archetypes. At no point should you ever feel like Coffey is deserved of his treatment.
I feel as though this film is in a strange state of limbo. Everyone I have ever talked to about this film seems to love it, but it’s rarely ever brought up the same way that “Shawshank” is. Both films are brilliant at questioning perception and challenges those with preconceived notions, but in my honest opinion, I feel that this film does it the best. The way it blends a fantastical element into a story is so rooted in realism is mesmerizing. The way the film humanizes even the most sinister people is intriguing. There is a moral grey area when it comes to making the most likable characters genuine murderers, those being the other inmates, but I don’t feel like it ever praises those people. This movie dares to test the judgmental behavior of those with that higher privilege, and given the responses to the movie I have encountered, it seems to have inherently worked. To put it simply; I adore this film. I can’t say it ever reached my top movies of all time, but it is endlessly fascinating. Even being fully aware of how the film ended, going in, the raw emotion one feels in the penultimate scene is palpable. Very few films have managed to illicit tears, but I welled up right to the end. The movie makes you care about the relationship between the two lead characters, and the message is so viciously loud that it burrows into your subconscious with a finesse that I haven’t seen many other film do so spectacularly. For all the Stephen King adaptations I have adored, none will ever match the feelings I have towards this one, even the more infamous “Shawshank.” It’s likely you’ve seen this one, but if not, check it out.
Side note: I’m currently close to finishing a Studio Ghibli marathon so this was weirdly displaced. Ambitious of the studio to go live action. And film it in America. And include a torture scene. I mean, it’s no “My Neighbor Totoro.” That film is far more racist.
Written review by C. Johnson.