Let’s be real for a second. If you mention The Shining to anyone on the street, they immediately picture Jack Nicholson’s arched eyebrows and a blood-soaked elevator. It’s iconic. It’s legendary. But for Stephen King, that 1980 masterpiece was basically a personal insult. He hated it. He hated the way Nicholson looked crazy from the very first frame, and he especially hated how the hotel felt like a secondary character instead of the literal monster it was in his head.
So, in 1997, he decided to fix it.
The result was The Shining made for TV movie, a three-part miniseries that aired on ABC. It was King’s attempt to reclaim his story, directed by his frequent collaborator Mick Garris. If you haven't seen it, you’ve likely heard the internet jokes about the "CGI hedge lions." But there’s a lot more to this version than just some dated 90s graphics. It is a wildly different beast that prioritizes the tragedy of addiction over the aesthetics of a haunted house.
Why the TV version actually exists
King’s beef with Stanley Kubrick is the stuff of Hollywood legend. He famously described Kubrick’s film as a "beautiful car with no engine." To King, the heart of the story wasn't just scary ghosts; it was the slow, agonizing collapse of a good man struggling with alcoholism.
When the chance came to do a remake for television, King jumped at it. But there was a catch. To get the rights back from Kubrick’s estate, King reportedly had to sign a "non-disparagement" agreement. Basically, he had to stop publicly trashing the 1980 film to get his own version made. Talk about drama.
The Overlook at the Stanley Hotel
One of the coolest things about the The Shining made for TV movie is where they filmed it. Kubrick used sets in London and the Timberline Lodge in Oregon for exterior shots. King, however, insisted on filming at The Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado.
This is the actual hotel that inspired the book in the first place. King stayed there in 1974, in the famously haunted Room 217, when the hotel was nearly empty for the winter. Shooting on location gives the 1997 version an authenticity that the original lacks. You’re seeing the actual narrow hallways and the grand staircase that birthed the nightmare.
Steven Weber vs. Jack Nicholson: The battle of the Jacks
Honestly, Steven Weber had the hardest job in show business. How do you follow up one of the most famous performances in history? Most people dismiss Weber because he isn't Nicholson, but if you look at the source material, Weber is actually way more accurate to what King wrote.
- Jack Nicholson’s Jack: He’s a powder keg. You meet him, and you think, "Yeah, this guy is going to kill his family by Tuesday." There’s no arc because he’s already unhinged.
- Steven Weber’s Jack: He’s an "everyman." He’s a guy you’d grab a beer with—which is exactly the problem. He’s trying so hard to be a good father and a sober man, and the hotel plays on those specific insecurities.
In the miniseries, Jack’s weapon isn't an axe. It’s a roque mallet. Why? Because in the book, a mallet is what he uses. It’s more personal, more brutal in a "blunt force" kind of way. Watching Weber slowly succumb to the hotel’s influence is arguably more heartbreaking than watching Nicholson just go "full Nicholson."
The Wendy Problem
We also have to talk about Wendy Torrance. Shelley Duvall’s performance in the 1980 film is haunting, but King hated it. He thought she was portrayed as a "screaming dishcloth."
Rebecca De Mornay plays Wendy in the TV version, and she’s a much more capable, resilient character. She isn't just reacting to the horror; she’s actively trying to solve the problem. She’s strong. She’s observant. It changes the dynamic of the family entirely. Instead of a victim being hunted by a monster, it’s a family being torn apart from the inside.
The scares: Topiary animals and Room 217
This is where the The Shining made for TV movie usually loses people.
🔗 Read more: Gutfeld on Fallon YouTube: What Really Happened During That Crossover
Kubrick replaced the book's living hedge animals with a giant hedge maze because he knew the technology of 1980 couldn't make moving bushes look scary. Mick Garris, perhaps a bit too ambitious for 1997 TV budgets, decided to go for it.
The CGI topiary lions haven't aged well. At all. They look a bit like something out of a Playstation 1 cutscene. However, if you can look past the pixels, the concept is still unsettling. The idea that the very ground of the hotel is trying to trap you is a core part of the novel's dread.
The lady in the bathtub
On the flip side, the makeup effects in the 1997 version are genuinely skin-crawling. The woman in Room 217 (not 237, as Kubrick changed it) is a masterclass in 90s prosthetic horror. She is a rotting, bloated corpse that feels much more "visceral" than the version in the movie.
There's also the fire hose. In the book and the miniseries, the hotel’s hallways are alive. A simple fire hose on the wall starts to look like a snake. It’s these small, surreal touches that make the Overlook feel like a sentient being.
Key differences you probably missed
Since the miniseries is about 4.5 hours long compared to the 2.5-hour movie, it has room for a lot of stuff that got cut.
- The Boiler: This is huge. In the book, the hotel’s boiler is a ticking time bomb. Jack has to "dump" the pressure every day. It’s a metaphor for his own internal pressure. This leads to a completely different ending where the hotel actually explodes.
- Dick Hallorann: In the 1980 movie, Hallorann travels all that way just to get an axe to the chest. It’s a bit of a letdown. In the TV version, he survives and plays a crucial role in the escape, just like in the book.
- Tony: The "little boy who lives in Danny’s mouth" is much more than a finger-wagging voice here. We actually see Tony (played by Wil Horneff) as a hovering, ethereal teenager. It’s a bit weird, but it pays off with a reveal about who Tony actually is.
Is it actually worth watching in 2026?
Look, if you want a "perfect" movie, stick with Kubrick. But if you want a faithful adaptation of a tragic story about a man losing his soul, you have to give the miniseries a chance. It’s a fascinating time capsule of 90s prestige television.
It was a massive ratings hit when it first aired. People forget that. It won two Emmys! It only became "the bad version" later when the internet decided that liking Kubrick was a personality trait.
How to approach the 1997 version
If you’re going to dive in, don't compare it to the movie. Compare it to the book.
- Watch for the details: Keep an eye out for the scrapbook Jack finds in the basement. It’s a key plot point from the novel that explains the hotel’s history.
- Appreciate the pacing: It’s slow. It’s a slow burn. It lets you spend time with the family before things go south.
- Spot the cameos: Stephen King himself shows up as the ghostly bandleader Gage Creed (a nice nod to Pet Sematary).
Basically, the The Shining made for TV movie is the "Director's Cut" of the story that we never would have gotten otherwise. It’s messy, it’s emotional, and yes, the CGI lions are goofy, but it has a soul that the 1980 film deliberately avoided.
✨ Don't miss: Why Funny Wisdom Teeth Videos Are Still the Internet's Favorite Chaos
If you want to experience the 1997 miniseries today, your best bet is to find the Blu-ray restoration from Shout! Factory. It cleans up the image significantly, making the Colorado scenery look absolutely gorgeous. You should also check out the audio commentary—hearing Stephen King and Mick Garris talk about the production is a treat for any horror nerd. Just go in with an open mind and a big bowl of popcorn.
Next Steps for Horror Fans:
- Read the 1977 Novel: If you haven't read the book, do it now. It explains the "shining" power in much greater detail than any screen version.
- Visit the Stanley Hotel: They offer "Shining" tours in Estes Park that specifically highlight the filming locations of the 1997 miniseries.
- Watch 'Doctor Sleep': Mike Flanagan’s 2019 film somehow manages to bridge the gap between Kubrick’s movie and King’s book endings. It’s a miracle of filmmaking that makes both versions of The Shining feel like part of one big, messy family.
[/article]