Release Date: August 12th, 1983
Directed by: Lewis Teague
Written by: Don Carlos Dunaway, Lauren Currier
Based on: Cujo by Stephen King
Music by: Charles Bernstein
Cast: Dee Wallace, Daniel Hugh-Kelly, Danny Pintauro, Ed Lauter, Christopher Stone
Taft Entertainment, Sunn Classic Pictures, Warner Bros., 93 Minutes
“Fuck you, dog.” – Donna Trenton
Let me start by saying that I am not a big Stephen King fan. There are some things he’s done that I’ve liked but in all honesty, I’ve usually liked the film versions of his work better. Yes, even the shitty films. In the case of Cujo however, I think I dislike both equally.
This film sucks, plain and simple. But it isn’t like a normal vacuum suck, it is more like the pierced edge of a space station suck where everyone on board is going to get sucked through the dime-sized hole and shit out into space like human spaghetti.
Basically, there’s this unfaithful wife with her son and her piece of shit car. After spending too much time character-building bad characters no one will ever care about, the piece of shit car breaks down in front of a rabies-afflicted St. Bernard. The last half of the film is mom and kid crying in their vehicle as Cujo the rabid St. Bernard barks incessantly and slobbers all over the windows.
The kid (played by Jonathan from Who’s the Boss) is a giant bitch for such a little guy. He’s also so damn annoying with his crying and whining. I cheered for the dog when it gave him rabies, because at least it shut the kid up. In fact, I started cheering for the dog the whole rest of the movie because the mom was so stupid, she deserved to be eaten.
And yes, I know she is played by Dee Wallace and that Dee Wallace is a horror icon but I don’t care. Everything about Cujo sucks. She should’ve known better than to have signed on to this mess.
This film couldn’t have stunk worse, even if the victims were trapped in an outhouse instead of a car.
I don’t really have much else to say because I want to move on with my life now and pretend that this film doesn’t exist even though, for some reason, some idiots like to bring it up as some sort of classic. It’s not a classic. It’s a pile of crap, plain and simple.
Speaking of which, I guess I should run Cujo through the Cinespiria Shitometer. Well, what we have here is a “Type 7 Stool: Watery, no solid pieces. Entirely liquid.”