The Life of Chuck

The movie is maudlin and pessimistic and features a mildly sardonic voiceover narration by Nick Offerman that only serves to distance us from the action.

Although its unusual structure and smidge of Stephen King weirdness (it’s based on one of his novellas) saves it from being a complete washout.

Unlike horrors and dreams and fantasies, the imaginary world that dominates The Life of Chuck is utterly devoid of personality. The trickery of its creation is clever but impersonal for reasons that go beyond the story’s stiff detail-twiddling.

The Life of Chuck is by no means a bad movie. At times, it’s quite absorbing. The problem is that, for all its cosmic grandeur, the material is extremely literal-minded.

Flanagan’s pastiche of palatable comfort might be well-meaning and familiar. But in modern practice, The Life of Chuck is no more than a nostalgia tranquilizer, designed to comfort you after you roll your ankle on a two-step.

While it includes dark and tragic themes, it is a story of profound humanity, ultimately spirit-expanding.

Some cynics may find parts of the film unbearably sentimental, but following Covid and lockdown, where the world truly thought its time was up, it’s a tonic of a film that delves into the fragile mindset of humanity.

A bittersweet rumination on life, time, and our minuscule moment in the cosmos, The Life of Chuck isn't so much profound as it is a reminder to live/laugh/love.

A movie to be embraced, shared, and revisited. See it with someone you love.

The whole thematic conceit of The Life of Chuck is dependent on its lack of uniqueness, the notion that we are the stars of our own stories. By casting actors we know it gives this experience too much specificity when it needed more opacity.