I sometimes feel a little self-conscious about admitting my fandom of Stephen King and Joe Hill, the maligned and allegedly aggrandized master of the macabre and his boy Joe, a regular chip off the old tombstone, who's getting as much name recognition as his father through a similar amount of media saturation. Yes, there are many indie authors out there breaking boundaries and tearing down walls (and Stephen didn't help his case with THAT tweet!) and many might think that Stephen's horror belongs in the past, but I do owe something to Uncle Stephen for turning me onto horror. I also owe Joe Hill, a storyteller who in many respects has surpassed his father, for showing me how magic and awe can still be woven into a story, almost a throwback to Ray Bradbury and . . . well, his dad. I usually turn to a Gabino Iglesias or Nick Cutter for stories that hit like a sucker punch to the gut whereas a Stephen King/Joe Hill tale might be like a trip through a neighbor's haunted house on Halloween, a neighbor that's maybe a dentist when it's not Halloween. I enjoy their fiction but their stories don't necessarily shock me. Then I read "In the Tall Grass" (from Hill's Full Throttle collection) and I saw the Netflix movie based on the story.
The story begins like a typical Stephen King or Joe Hill story: normal-seeming Cal and Becky Demuth are driving along, their deep yet placid brother/sister relationship explained in the introduction. Becky is pregnant and Cal, the dutiful brother, is driving his sister to San Diego to stay with relatives while she has the baby. Then they hear a young boy's cry for help emanating from a sea of tall grass. Stopping to offer assistance, Cal gives a "Captain Cal to the rescue" before he runs headlong into it, followed by Becky who loses her signal and soon her way. The siblings, separated, are lead not only away from each other, but toward a dark fate thanks to whatever lurks in the grass and the power it has over those who enter its domain. The Netflix movie manages to add onto this premise by including the baby's father as well as a time travel narrative that's difficult to follow at times, but both stories become very dark very quick. What starts off as a fun spooky tale becomes darker and more disturbing as the violence is taken to unexpected places. "In the Tall Grass" is about isolation, madness, and even a little folk horror, but both movie and book both show a major strength of both father and son, creating fleshed-out and empathetic characters that the readers' hearts will break for once the horror closes in on them. What makes this story different is the sheer level of savagery the characters endure, not in a gratuitous way but one that shows just how unrelenting, ancient, and barbaric the thing in the grass is. It's a story that shows that father and son can break out the buckets of blood when they need to, but you should experience both for yourself. Just be sure to have a Ray Bradbury or Neil Gaiman palate cleanser story on standby.
