The Pumpkin King: CHRISTINE (1983)

“I Can Fix Her.”

There is something very special about making a horror film so exemplary that you can turn a car into an iconic villain in a way that isn't hokey or played for laughs. That's exactly what John Carpenter did with CHRISTINE (1983), his adaptation of Stephen King's novel forever changing the way horror fans look at a red 1958 Plymouth Fury. Beyond the primary theme of fear and suspense lies a multi-layered story about obsession, insecurity, toxic relationships, envy, and abuse. When I watch CHRISTINE, I always see her owner, Arnie (Keith Gordon), as one of Christine's first victims. King, Carpenter, and screenwriter Bill Phillips crafted someone that we empathize with and care for only to watch them fall prey to the insidious nature of Christine's magnetism.

Upon a recent viewing, I’d argue that whatever drives the cursed power behind Christine's magic is extorting her too. She may be a car, but she is a car that was given feelings without any basis for how to cope with them. The core of this movie is not that Christine is a monster.

The heart of this film is about the universal desire to be loved and the things we do in desperation to get it.

The more I think about this movie, the more I believe Christine chose Arnie not for his weakness in character but because of his loneliness. Both of them desire to be beautiful, worshipped, and something beyond what they are, which is how they feed each other's toxic insecurity and loneliness. The power that manifests comes from the violence of their combined bitterness, resentment, and jealousy. As individuals, they feel left behind and ugly. But together, they built a foundation from that suppressed rage and despair and became the center of each other's world. The ensuing carnage comes from what happens when that toxic bubble ultimately implodes. First, they destroy others who would endanger their relationship. Then, they destroy each other. No one can sustain a relationship built from bitterness and insecurity, not even a relationship between a teen and his sentient car.

Maybe this is just me reading too much into CHRISTINE and seeing myself in this tale of insecurity and loneliness. Maybe it is just an evil car with no objective beyond destruction. If that were the case, though, why are Christine's worst behaviors triggered by jealousy? If she were hell bent on hurting Arnie, too, then why go through the effort of protecting him and exacting revenge on those who hurt him?

To Christine, Arnie is a savior. His loyal devotion is the well of confidence from which she draws because she cannot do it herself. Even with her supernatural powers, she cannot make herself beautiful. She needed someone to rebuild her before she had the resources to manipulate herself as she eventually does. Christine was given the feelings of desire and loneliness without the physical form to do anything about it. She is trapped in a world of longing because of her limited physical form. One tragedy of this movie is that Christine sees herself as Arnie's girl, but she can never truly live out that reality. The only way she can return and maintain his love is by eradicating everyone else in his life that takes the focus from her. This is the part that makes her a terrifying villain. Her motive is rooted in her obsession which she calls love, and deep seeded bitterness. In this sense, it is uncomfortable to think about how many people might be closer to Christine than we want to accept. I want to say that it's only human to feel that way. But she isn't human. That's the problem. That’s why she’s so angry.

It takes two to tango, and Arnie was happy to oblige and get drunk on Christine's jealousy and loyalty. In Christine, he saw his own transformation possible. He let that taste of power and ego consume him. He isn't free of blame either. Yet I do feel empathy for Arnie, Christine, and everyone affected by the toxic and abusive relationship that consumed them. Love will drive you crazy. Sometime so crazy that you turn into an extremely terrifying fireball of steel flying down the road murdering kids, but I wouldn't recommend it.

Let me tell you a little something about love, Dennis. It has a voracious appetite. It eats everything. Friendship. Family. It kills me how much it eats. But I'll tell you something else. You feed it right, and it can be a beautiful thing, and that's what we have. You know, when someone believes in you, man, you can do anything, any fucking thing in the entire universe. And when you believe right back in that someone, then watch out world, because nobody can stop you then, nobody! Ever!

I suggest therapy. (I could easily believe car therapy exists in the weird Stephen King universe that has CHRISTINE and MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE) If not for the cars and trucks, then definitely for us. No, Arnie. You can't fix her. More importantly, she can't fix you. Only you can do that.