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Adopted from Stephen King's stories, the series shows some of these stories which occur in a serious prison amidst a genuine woods named Maine. For the starting, the series recounts the account of Henry Deaver, a death-row lawyer, whose fate takes him back to the place where he grew up in Castle Rock where he reestablishes dim past because of the mysterious call that he has received.
For better or worse all of the usual King tropes are here and the slickly produced Castle Rock pays homage to everything I love and don't like about King. It's creepy but languid storytelling that's more about the journey than destination.
The show makes skillful use of its episodic medium, carefully pacing its storylines and building out its world while still making sure each hour is filtered through generous helpings of creepiness.
King's fiction has always used those elements as metaphors for the ordinary evil that men and women inflict on each other, out of fear or greed or prejudice. And that's what's really scary about Castle Rock.
"Castle Rock" is a giant basket of Easter eggs for King people, but for the rest of us it's a decent show layered with supernatural secrets waiting to be decoded.
In spite of all of the tiny subplots unfolding at once, the pilot episode held my interest, and many scenes reeled me right in. An impressive start to a new series.
The show starts getting good around episode three, once it cuts back on the direct King swipes and becomes more like a wholly original novel, exploring some of the author's usual thematic concerns and character types.
Starts slow and gets better -- while an excellent cast (and lead, in Holland) front a story that's a little more psychological than supernatural in the early going.
When it tries to be a wonderland for King fans, it races past the line of referential, rounds through fan service, and steps into cliché, sometimes even inching toward self-parody.