Stephen King adaptations are a curious beast - they're rarely done justice to, especially when much of the source-material is 600+ pages long. Witness 'IT' with Tim Curry as the titular villain - it feels like a trailer (a 3 hour long trailer, mind) for a much longer, more satisfying film if you've read the book. The main action is just about there, but it feels so much shallower. Then there's the daddy of all big-screen King films - The Shining. Famously dismissed by King as too far removed from the source material and far too Jack Nicholsoned for the main character. Obviously The Shining is a masterpiece of film making - Kubrick told the story he took from the book, he didn't just list the main points of the book and stick them on celluloid.

At the other end of the film-making spectrum, we have this - 'Riding the Bullet'. Adapted from a short story exclusive to the internet from 2000, this could be the worst adaptation of a King tale yet. Knowing very little about the film or short story, I was extremely surprised to find it had been released in 2004 - it would have been a laughable excuse for a film in 1983! The acting is sub-par (in particular, Alan's 2 college friends deserve attention for their woeful portrayals of college stoners from 1969), the visual effects barely serviceable and a supremely irritating turn from lead actor Johnathan Jackson, who comes across as a young and gormless Johnny Depp. His character, Alan, is a morbid young soul who likes to sulk, keep people at a distance and draw vivid, death-obsessed portraits. He's also prone to those self-indulgent fantasies you may remember from being an adolescent - the ones where you imagine how your death will affect everyone, or a spiralling worst-case scenario that stems from a misunderstanding.
After a rough day in which he almost makes a fatal error, Alan is excited to receive tickets to see John Lennon and the Plastic Ono Band from his girlfriend. Unfortunately, they are snatched from his grasp by fate after he is told of his mother's stroke, which has put her in the hospital. After briefly considering waiting 'til after the concert, Alan decides to head straight to the hospital. However, with no ride, little money and 120 miles to travel, the only option is to hitchhike through the night.
What follows is a "soul-searching" journey which forces Alan to grow up - whether this is down to the forces of darkness or a more earthly, illicit substance, is left to your imagination. But whatever the cause, watching David Arquette ham it up as an undead boy racer who offers Alan an impossible choice is unintentionally amusing at first, until it becomes wearisome.
By the end, you'll feel you really travelled the distance with Alan - and not in a good way. This may well have been a thoughtful character piece in text, but on screen it loses any finesse it may have had and commits the cardinal sin of boring the audience.