Storms are mad scary. They exert this kind of otherworldly power. If this is what nature is capable of, it makes you rethink what supernaturally really means. Billions of dollars in damage and dozens of lives lost, all of it completely meaningless. We search for meaning in it, but there's nothing there just random chaos, though we can obviously make impacts on it.
The Mist is a Stephen King adaptation. A crazy storm rolls through Maine and an artist and his son go to the supermarket to pick up supplies. As they check out, a bloodied man runs through the door, screaming about monsters in the mist, quickly followed by the store being swallowed up in the mist. The refugees in the store quickly split into factions based on class, race, and religion and find the monsters within may be just as terrifying as the monsters without.
Having never read the novella, the film The Mist feels so much more Lovecraftian than anything Stephen King I've seen before. The monsters are this constant, lurking dread and the characters a motivated more by fear and paranoia than anything else, not to mention the complete lack of hope or salvation anywhere in the film. The acting is solid, but nothing to write home about, and the direction picks up a lot of slack found in the process. Definitely worth a watch on a stormy day.
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