Donald Trump probably hears it every time he gets a divorce: "Give me what I want and I will go away." Stephen King, prolific author of books beautiful (The Green Mile serial) and banal (Cujo), recently wove a miniseries, the TV equivalent of an "event movie," around this loaded demand. For three nights during last February's sweeps week, viewers tuned in to Storm of the Century wondering what the psychic, sanguinary Linoge (Colm Feore) could possibly want from the townsfolk of a New England inlet on the eve of their worst blizzard in history.

Linoge announces his arrival in the coastal village by beating a local elderly woman to death with a griffin-topped cane. Constable Mike Anderson (Tim Daly) takes the stranger into custody, where Linoge psychologically torments his guardians: the prisoner is all-knowing, and he gleefully airs the dirty laundry of anyone who looks him in the eye. At first, nobody believes in Linoge's obvious power, but after a few more strategic homicides--accomplished through meditation in his cell--everybody's willing to give in to his cryptic request.

King hatched the idea for a "tele-novel," an original work for the medium, after ABC's remake of The Shining failed to scare up enviable Nielsen numbers. Storm of the Century recalls material as diverse as Agatha Christie mysteries and High Noon, the latter in act three especially, which depicts the horror film parallel to an old West showdown. The climax also presents a juicy moral dilemma (as much of King's '90s writing has)--be warned, King's solution to Anderson's catch-22 leaves a sour aftertaste that I appreciated but connoisseurs of feel-good cinema will not.

Because Storm of the Century was a network presentation, its downbeat ending cannot be blamed for the disappointing ratings the show received. (Without multiple showings, no one gets a chance to spread cautionary word of mouth.) I think a 1999 audience is simply incapable of devoting six hours of prime time to one entertainment. There are just too many distractions, like cable and the Internet, not to mention the telefilm's pacing was probably too slow to hook the average channel surfer. I think Storm of the Century is overlong and not very frightening, but Feore shines, and its final hour is a white-knuckler. I also think the absence of names lends the locale an intriguing authenticity--I recall being distracted in The Stand by several familiar faces who were hopelessly miscast.

Trimark's DVD presentation of Storm of the Century stands head-and-shoulders above last winter's broadcast. The fullscreen image is clear with fine shadow detail, its lack of colour saturation by design: the filmmakers employed a special bleaching process to give the film a muted, blueish cast. Fleshtones are otherwise excellent, and compression artifacts are virtually nonexistent. The infrequent shimmering effects did not lower my estimation of this transfer. Dialogue is loud and full--the 2.0 Dolby mix integrates it nicely with some left-to-right panning effects and occasional use of the surround channel, which lends Linoge's act-two theatrics extra kick. The 256-minute miniseries is spread out over two sides with all evidence of commercial breaks removed. I should point out that the "Side 1" and "Side 2" markings were reversed on my review copy (a retail version)--when I first inserted the disc, the second half of Storm of the Century began.

The included audio commentary by King and director Craig R. Baxley is sensational. The DVD's release coincides with the recuperation of King, who was hit by a van last Saturday, a collision that left him with a shattered leg, a collapsed lung, and other serious injuries. Let's hope his recovery from these sad circumstances is smooth, thus affording him the opportunity to record more yak-tracks like this one. (King on "The X-Files": "...a five year cock-tease. You have to wonder if aliens abducted Mulder's penis!"; on Michelle Pfeiffer: "I don't think she'd do a miniseries if you told her that afterwards she'd be able to walk on water!"; on ABC's "Standards and Practices Committee": "They're wimps.")

King is frank and sincere; sometimes he loses his train of thought, but he's never less than an utterly delightful orator. He also lets slip that most of Storm of the Century was shot in my hometown of Oshawa, Ontario, a city that looks nothing like Maine on the surface, believe me--Hollywood magic is apparently limitless. Baxley is not as interesting: he spends much of his time identifying the location of the various sets. Their commentaries were recorded separately and intercut with about ten minutes in the show to spare once both of them are finished. The disc also contains a trailer and atmospheric animated menus.

Be well, Mr. King.-Bill Chambers