4th November 2019
Type ‘Wendy Torrance’ into any search engine and you will generate a plethora of results that are highly critical of the character as told through the affecting performance given by Shelley Duvall. Words used to describe her range from ‘whiny’, ‘dense’ and ‘insultingly one dimensional’ to (perhaps worst of all): ‘a screaming dishrag’.
One reviewer even went as far to remark: ‘it’s not often that we urge, nay beg the killer in a horror movie to gut one of the main characters but we make an exception for The Shining’ (Complex.com, Jason Shapiro). In fact, I found such an overwhelming collective voice speaking out against Wendy that I felt compelled to speak up in her favour. In doing so, I committed to an intimate study of why she happens to be the most frequently overlooked (pardon the pun) character in Stanley Kubrick’s 1980 masterpiece of horror: The Shining.
When thinking of The Shining, it’s impossible not to conjure up images of the troubled and complex character of Jack Torrance portrayed with a beautiful mix of brashness and intricacy by Jack Nicholson in a performance that once seen, can never be forgotten. Indisputably, the story of The Shining belongs to Jack, a fact that is cemented through Kubrick’s choice to tell so much of the narrative directly from his viewpoint. However, if this is the tale of a broken man losing his mind then it is also the telling of how a near broken woman struggles to hold the fragility of her family together. Naturally it follows then, that with Jack firmly at the heart of the film, criticism and analysis continue to focus and revolve around him. The question of who this man is, what he becomes and how far his descent towards the hellish point of no return is due to the spirits of the hotel or, to his battling addiction to alcohol, will forever be hotly debated.
3 Is the Magic Number: Contextualising Wendy as part of the Torrance family
Jack belongs to a triumvirate that makes up his condensed family circle and although he is unequivocally placed at the top of this pyramid, he can only be fully understood when considering all three characters in relation to one another. Along with Jack, interest in the male members of the Torrance dynasty has continued with much being written about Danny, the young offspring who possesses the shining of the film’s title. From academic papers to internet fan-sites, studies of and around Danny are abound; as the saying goes ‘like father, like son’. However, there is one remaining member of the triumvirate to whom an unfathomably scarce amount of attention is dedicated. To add to this, regrettably, most of the little written on Wendy is as best unflattering and at worst utterly derogatory. I’d like to offer an analysis of the character that affirms her position as the unsung heroine of the film. Furthermore, I will seek to challenge the common misassumption of Wendy as weak and unreactive by evidencing that she overcomes the problems of the past and is able to become a smart, proactive woman in the present moment.
All the research which I undertook around Wendy kept leading me back to the same perception of her, time and time again. It is explicitly clear and very basic at its heart: people find Wendy annoying. In order to contest this impression that has been formed of her, we need to revisit the evidence within the film and use this as a framework to gain some context of the events that take place. By doing so, we will see that audiences have misplaced their conceptions of her actions and behaviour which are not only perfectly healthy and understandable but also noble and courageous. Along with her ‘shrill voice’ and ‘high state of anxiety’ people cite the fact that Wendy ‘defines herself through others’ as one of the reasons they find her so irritating. Full disclosure time and in evidence of my objectivity; I confess that I too have found Wendy annoying in the past. Upon reflection however, I now consider this to be a deliberate intension of Kubrick’s direction and a result of his continual insistence that we sympathise with Jack. Once I started to slowly pick away at and assess the journey of the Torrance family through Wendy’s eyes, a different response began to emerge.
Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion when it comes to art and we all have various reasons for holding these but when a character is so widely and fundamentally misunderstood, I think a moment of pause is needed. Therefore, I say slow down, step back and take a breath to get some perspective. Let’s ask ourselves; what is Wendy’s situation? Allow me to lay it out: what we are presented with is a woman who is alone (but for her young son) in a hotel situated in the middle of nowhere with a man who is slowly destroying her sense of safety, sanity and ability to make sense of the world around her before murderously pursing her and her son with an axe. Just sit with that a moment. Surely this is more than sufficient to warrant some high-pitched squealing, displays of panic and feelings of protection towards Danny but despite all this opinion of Wendy still remains largely critical. Perhaps most dismaying of all is that even King himself, creator of the original Wendy (on whom Kubrick’s character is based although somewhat unfaithfully) seems to misunderstand Duvall’s portrayal, declaring her: ‘one of the most misogynistic characters put on film who is basically just there to scream and be stupid and that is not that woman I wrote about.’ That Wendy screams is undeniable; she screams a lot, particularly towards the end, but so would you if you were being chased by a man with an axe who is completely detached from reality. In consideration of this then, I seek to challenge the notion of her as inadequate and assert that Wendy is one of the bravest, smartest and most pro-active women in horror.
Wendy has always been The Caretaker
Despite Jack’s obsession with what he perceives as his all-important duty, it is Wendy who assumes the role of Caretaker to the Overlook, as seen in moments when she tries the phone lines and follows this up with a diligent call to the local services or when she is busy in the basement tending to the operational running of the hotel. Jack’s outburst of: ‘Have you ever thought for a single solitary moment about my responsibilities to my employers? Does it matter to you at all, that the owners have placed their complete confidence and trust in me and that I have signed a letter of agreement, a contract in which I have accepted that responsibility?’ which he spouts at Wendy ahead of the infamous staircase scene therefore, has no credit when tested for concrete evidence. We never, not once, witness him completing a repair or undertaking any general maintenance works, the clear and honest truth here (whether he is aware of it or not) is that Jack has already breached his contract.
Not only does Wendy act as Caretaker in an official capacity but she also performs the service from a familial perspective as evidenced by Danny when his playtime is interrupted by the mysterious appearance of a ball close to Room 237. This incident clearly evokes deep fear in the youngster who instinctively and repeatedly calls out for his mother; a person with whom he associates comfort and security. In her article ‘The Misunderstood Perfection of Shelley Duvall in Kubrick’s The Shining’ Amanda Gowin remarks that: ‘hidden behind scenes of hotel history and a private battle is the tiny, private story of the woman who smiles because someone fucking has to’. Indeed, this couldn’t be closer to the truth with Wendy always managing to remain upbeat despite also having to act as chief consoler to Jack and navigate her way through his portfolio of ever-changing moods. To add to this, while we may not be given any specific backstory in the film, we can fill in the blanks quite easily imagining that life has been anything but rosy for Wendy prior to their arrival at the Overlook and conclude that certainly to some extent, she has always been the Caretaker.
Sunny Side Up: Wendy the eternal optimist
Throughout the film, we witness Jack gnaw away at Wendy’s optimism. However, the struggling mother is well practiced in putting on a front, whether it be for strangers, relatives and friends or even for young Danny. That is not to say this is a shortcoming of her character as on the contrary, Wendy’s chirpy ‘look on the bright side’ attitude is no doubt a coping mechanism rather than a personality trait. Demonstrating great strength and fortitude, one of Wendy’s most endearing qualities is that she always strives to turn positives into negatives to create the most stable and loving environment she can for her son. In fact, Wendy lays down the foundation for this before they even arrive at The Overlook, telling Danny how much fun their time will be.
Jack and Wendy’s first scene together marks the distance in their relationship as they are shown talking miles apart, via telephone. Wendy’s cheery spirit is evident as she brightly asks: ‘sound like you got the job hun?’ before she showers him with repeated endearing remarks, perhaps an indication of the need to soften her husband’s ego in order to manage his moods. When Jack calls her ‘babe’ however, there is no detection of affection or sentiment, instead Jack presents as entirely disconnected and there is a sense that he only behaves in this way to keep up appearances. The early disconnect that we feel plants the seed for the stifled and volatile relationship that will play out on screen once Wendy and Jack are alone as she will approach him on multiple occasions with a combination of optimism and cautiousness until her upbeat pleasantries are mercilessly shut down.
Early on in the film we see Jack dozing in bed as Wendy enters wheeling in a breakfast service. Keen to get the day off to a good start she has prepared him a meal which he doesn’t even need to leave his bed to consume. Smiling lovingly as she pours his coffee, she remarks on what a fine day it is before gently mooting the idea of going for a walk a short while afterwards. Jack however, does not take warmly to this suggestion and while his hostility remains fairly low level there’s enough inferred through his tone and body language to give both the audience and Wendy a message that is crystal clear. We are told it’s just after 11:30am and Wendy has presumably been awake for some hours tending to Danny, undertaking various tasks in the hotel and is now longing for some adult conversation and fresh air. In return, Jack knocks her down with his response and communicates that not only are her needs less important than his but that he has no concern for them at all. Despite his attitude, she doesn’t even allow this to shatter her pluckiness (at least externally). Instead, with utter selflessness she offers words of encouragement concerning his writing project and is unwaveringly supportive throughout the scene. After destroying any hope Wendy may have had of their plans for the day, not only does this (and her moral support) go un-noted but her very presence is met with utter contempt.
Despite trying to remain (like the eggs she lovingly prepares) sunny side up, Wendy is, to various degrees, repeatedly rejected and mistreated. Perhaps the most uncomfortable and upsetting of these occasions to watch is when she enters to find Jack typing in the Colorado Lounge (little does she know yet that what he is producing is the same sentence over and over again). Again, Wendy begins as we have seen in previous scenes by pacifying her husband approaching him almost as though he were an animal that she first has to coax and placate. She opens with the gesture of a kiss and asks how his day has been. Notably, he does not return any expression of physical affection, instead there is an agonizing tension emanating from him as Wendy delicately responds, no doubt calculating every word and gesture so as to cause minimum upset. There is an audible mixture of disappointment and fear in her voice as she pulls out all the stops and remains patient; giving and giving but getting nothing but verbal abuse in return. She starts out on a genuine note of optimism but by the time Jack is through with her she is left crushed with nothing else to do but exit as quickly and quietly as possible.
It is in the infamous manuscript discovery scene that we see the remnants of Wendy’s optimism; if by any chance she still happened to hold any hope for the resumption of Jack’s health then this is soon to be brutally snatched away. Kubrick cranks the tension up as far as possible as we see Wendy entering the Colorado lounge; a place she has expressly been forbidden from occupying. We also know that bad feeling already exists here and this adds to the sense of forthcoming danger. As she notices the neatly stacked manuscript, she discretely casts her eyes over the first page. Confused, she starts to leaf through the pile and there is a heart sinking tragedy to the sight of her pulling back each sheet as she clutches on to the ever-fading speckle of hope. In her eyes it’s possible to detect a longing and willingness to find some trace, some fragment on the page that points towards the novel which Jack has committed to but to her dismay all she finds are the repeated words ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’. We see hope make way for the evolution of despair as her eyes bulge with terror and her head shakes in disbelief. This moment is highly symbolic, she has opened the Pandora’s box with the pages signifying both the spell of the Overlook and the unwelcoming horrors to come. Furthermore, the discovery brings to mind Biblical imagery with Wendy taking the place of Eve in the Garden of Eden and the manuscript acting as the forbidden fruit. By choosing knowledge, Wendy has chosen truth but with truth comes ugliness and sin. Like Eve, Wendy will be cast out of the place she inhabits but unlike her Biblical counterpart, the decision to leave is Wendy’s own which she makes in order to ensure the survival of herself and her son by escaping the perpetual sins of Jack.
Kubrick’s decision to have the audience acquire the knowledge of the contents of Jacks ‘book’ alongside Wendy rather than ahead of her or without her present support a reading that the overall objective here is to evoke empathy. By making this discovery at the same time as Wendy, Kubrick is uncharacteristically aligning us with her; we experience this pivotal moment second by second just as she does. Through the combination of dramatic tension and a suspenseful score we feel the jeopardy and we sense the danger, not for Jack but for Wendy and the young boy of whom she is protector.
Getting the better of Jack: Wendy’s Toolbox
One of the greatest misconceptions voiced about Wendy is that she is ineffective and pathetic; a portrait of her as a woman of no agency is often painted when in actual fact there is plenty of evidence to argue that she is a resilient, quick thinking and incredibly brave woman. In order to ensure survival, it’s vital to remain strong and alert. Wendy remains physically active throughout much of The Shining as we see her tending to the hotel, fixing Jack’s breakfast and looking after Danny, she is always occupied and shows a willingness to maintain this healthy balance in spending time outside and interacting with others. Unlike Jack who sleeps in until almost noon and likely stays up until long past midnight there is a feeling of structure and purpose to Wendy’s days. It is mother and son who run about freely outside enjoying the fresh air while Jack remains cooped indoors until he is forced outside for the last few minutes. When Jack hovers God-like over the model of the overlook maze this stands in contrast to the smiles and laughter of Wendy and Danny as they chase one another playfully. Wendy’s active nature therefore equips her to deal with the events that unfold but by sealing himself away in the confines of the hotel, Jack is left stifled by the walls around him.
In the manuscript scene, Wendy’s fear is evident but she doesn’t let this dominate as she holds herself upright and despite what she might be thinking, attempts to steer the moment towards her key focus (Danny) by telling Jack that she ‘wants to talk’. When he responds to her suggestion with outrage and sarcasm, she recommends they take Danny ‘to a doctor’, something that ironically Jack could also do with himself at this stage. Concerned for her son, Wendy knows that the only solution is to seek outside help; her main priority continues to be Danny’s well-being. However, all Jack can do is brood on how Wendy is not showing any concern for his ‘responsibilities’. This scene not only serves to illustrate Wendy as a caring mother searching for a practical solution, but also symbolises how far apart husband and wife are from one another now; both emotionally and mentally with Jack preoccupied by his contractual obligations as opposed to the health of his son, leaving Wendy to battle multiple forces simultaneously.
When incidents of trouble and danger arise, Wendy displays intelligence on numerous occasions by arming herself showing that a) she is smart enough to know that she needs to protect herself and b) that she is willing to use these weapons if necessary. In the Gold Room, when she tells Jack that Danny has reported sightings of ‘a crazy woman’ in Room 237, she has a bat clenched tightly in her hands. Later on, when she is alone in their quarters, she has astutely locked the door which Jack has to knock on in order to enter. This enables her to vet whoever wishes to enter and, most importantly gage the temperature of Jack’s moods before allowing him access; a shrewd move indeed. Wendy’s behaviour proves that she is learning from experience, is able to recognise her husband is a real threat and acknowledge that it is down to her alone to safeguard Danny from harm.
Wendy is also mindful to equip herself with the bat during the staircase scene where she again demonstrates great bravery. Cautioning him: ‘Stay away from me’ she is desperately confused and running out of options. After buying herself some time, she assesses the situation and assumes power by heroically making the first move. Swinging the bat, she hits Jack with enough force to send him tumbling and in doing so is the first of the two to administer a physical blow. Transcending her status as victim, Wendy doesn’t flee to hide in wait for her predator to discover her. Instead, she makes what is perhaps her smartest move yet by dragging her husband’s limp body to the freezer, storing him in a place of safety and thus giving her all the advantages in this ongoing power struggle. Even when locked away in a freezer though, Jack can’t resist subjecting Wendy to a bit of psychological torment. Firstly, he tries telling her that they can: ‘forget any of this ever happened’ and then when she doesn’t cave in, he employs the ultimate manipulation tactic by complaining that: ‘I think you hurt me real bad’, advising he needs a doctor. Fortunately, Wendy knows better than to give in to his pleadings and her forward thinking enables her to resolve that she will bring a doctor to him, a much safer, more sensible measure. As mentioned earlier, stamina is integral for survival but it’s also key to know when to rest and retreat and this decision provides Wendy with the necessary opportunity to sleep. It would appear that there is truth in Grady’s statement to Jack which he delivers through the dividing partition of the freezer door: ‘your wife seems to be stronger than you, somewhat more resourceful, she seems to have got the better of you’.
In addition to the various survival qualities already touched upon, Wendy is also able to remain present in every moment, giving her a great advantage, whereas Jack on the other hand is often sleeping or seen in a trance like state completely detached from what is taking place around him as when Danny happens upon him in the bedroom and he is perched on the edge of the bed starring into the abyss of the mirror, a motif Kubrick uses throughout the course of his encounters with the hotel’s ghosts. On the other hand Wendy’s attentiveness is demonstrated through her early questioning of Ulman about the hotels’ history and functions and more importantly when she becomes alert to Halloran referring to Danny as: ‘Doc’ despite never having heard this pet name before. Taken individually, these may seem like trivialities but in the broader landscape of the film these attributes add to Wendy’s toolbox of resources that when assembled collectively, become a force to be reckoned with.
As events draw to a climax with Jack trying to axe his way into their living quarters, Wendy once again displays a firm capacity to think on her feet. Her first thought is for Danny whom she grabs and bundles into the bathroom whilst frantically clutching at the knife for defence. With Jack just meters away, Wendy makes every second count as she identifies an escape for Danny through the window. When she cannot make it herself, she dutifully tells him to run; his survival is her main priority. Now she must face her husband alone and as she waits on the other side of the door (knife in hand) she screams, pleading for her life. Before he can reach her however, she seizes an opportunity to slash his hand thus injuring him whilst protecting herself. In a true display of bravery, once Jack leaves following the unwelcome interruption of Halloran, she gathers herself together, shaking off the shock in order to continue and ensure that Danny is safe and well. Close to tears, when she cannot open the door she summons an inner strength to hit it with the knife before heroically venturing out into the corridors of the Overlook once more. Here, her eyes will meet with some horrific sights including a man in a bear suit seemingly fellating a guest in a tuxedo, the bludgeoned body of Halloran, a party guest whose head is dripping in blood and the infamous crimson waves that come crashing from the elevator. What Wendy demonstrates here is that she is willing to put herself through persistent danger and battle through her fear in order to ensure the survival of both herself and Danny. Although she descends into the fit of high -pitched screaming that so many movie goers find annoying, unlike Jack, Wendy is ultimately triumphant as she makes the final getaway with her son in the Snow Cat.
Love Honour and Betray: Blaming Wendy
Our first glimpse into the world of the Torrance home offers a snap- shot that reveals more than it might intend about their family infrastructure. Wendy and Danny are alone, sat together at the table undertaking routine activities of reading and eating. The absence of Jack is notable and is symbolic of the absence of the father figure and husband in their day to day lives. In fact, the amount of time we see the family together onscreen is incredibly telling of their crumbling dynamic. Mother and son have a gentle and honest interaction and Wendy even responds supportively to the inclusion of Danny’s imaginary friend Tony, enquiring what he thinks about their impending excursion. After they have arrived at the hotel, the only time they are an ensemble again is when Danny appears in the Colorado Lounge with a torn sweatshirt, a pivotal scene that exemplifies their malfunctioning unit.
The difference in temperament of Wendy and Jack is communicated to us quickly and effectively through their induction to the operations of the hotel. While Wendy seems rapt and excited, making easy conversation with others, Jack remains stern, tense and his answers are often clipped. To fully understand where Wendy’s character is at in this moment in time, we must remind ourselves of her current position. It’s highly likely that at this juncture, with Jack having been abstinent from alcohol for a period of time, that Wendy views the forthcoming months as an opportunity for him to progress in his recovery. With the family isolated and with no access to alcohol, she will surely be pinning all her hopes on how this will allow for an intimacy to be rekindled both from her perspective as a wife and on Danny’s behalf as his mother. Danny’s experiences of his father early on in the film are (although not violent or aggressive) equally disconnected, with Jack even attempting to defer any blame onto Wendy. When he enters their quarters and happens upon his father in a half waking state, Danny asks the burning question that is on everyone’s mind: ‘Dad, you would never hurt Mommy and me would you?’ Jack’s response confirms that he intends no harm to his son who means more to him: ‘than anything in the whole world’. However, when he enquires if Wendy has been polluting his sons’ thoughts with negative remarks, Jack fails to put our (and Danny’s) mind completely at rest in not extending such affections to Wendy, therefore evoking some deep and essential questions about the state of their relationship-and his state of mind. In doing so, this behaviour upholds the notion that his default position is one of total refusal to own his mistakes. Instead, he elects to blame Wendy for his behaviour as supported by his comment to Grady in the bathroom when he snaps through gritted teeth: ‘it’s his mother, she interferes’. Similarly, when Jack makes his confession to the ghost figure of Lloyd about how he once hurt Danny three years ago he seems to misdirect all his guilt towards Wendy, whom he says: ‘won’t let me forget it’. Later on, when Danny appears in ripped clothes, we will see Jack lay out the argument to her that: ‘he did it himself’ as: ‘once you rule out his version of what happens, there is no other explanation, is there?’ What these exchanges show us then is that when Jack is alone with either his wife or son he manipulates their trust and perception of one another to fit whichever narrative suits his own purpose. Despite contending with Jack’s psychological mind games time and time again, Wendy does not resist nor allow him to poison her against Danny and in this particular scene she remains steadfast to the assertion that they need to get him the help of a Doctor. In contrast to Wendy’s care- giving thoughtfulness, Jack sees any prospect of outsiders coming into the hotel or any move towards the family going outside as an impediment to his responsibilities which in turn confirms he harbours no regard for his son.
The balance of power in the Torrance marriage is somewhat distorted as although on the surface it would seem that Jack is in control, Wendy is very much the person holding everything together. Balancing her time between chores and the competing needs of Jack and Danny, Wendy’s own wants and desires always come firmly at the bottom of the list. In actual fact, Wendy is able to adopt a number of roles in order to fit each given occasion; she is in many ways all things to all people. When Danny emerges into the Colorado lounge sucking his thumb in a torn sweater, she becomes the protective mother by feeding him what is probably an all too familiar line which she uses to explain away Jack’s instability: ‘go upstairs, your Dad just had a head-ache’. At the same time, she is also the supportive wife as she attempts to comfort and soothe Jack. Sensing through his mood and demeanour that he is like a volcano on the cusp of eruption, she correctly asses Jack as a threat and leaves; being certain to keep Danny close to her as she does so. That Wendy is able to alternate between the various roles she embodies is a signifier of her intelligence and aptitude for making sound judgements.
Conclusion
In Vivian Kubrick’s 1980 documentary: The Making of The Shining, we see the Director (famed as much for his obsession for precision as his brilliance) instruct all those on set: ‘don’t sympathise with Shelley’. The desired affect here was reportedly to make the actress Shelley Duvall feel as isolated and alone as her character. Whether this methodology worked or even if it was ethical is not the subject of analysis here but what I am advocating is a reassessment of Wendy Torrance as a central female character in horror who is heroic in the face of the most unspeakable circumstances and therefore is deserving of sympathy and respect. Most people might remember Wendy for the seemingly endless chorus of screaming or the perhaps somewhat half- hearted manner in which she waves the bat repeatedly at Jack on the staircase. In actuality, as this comprehensive study into her character has demonstrated, Wendy is a brave, alert, quick thinking woman who has the ability to draw upon multiple resources in order to walk the tightrope that forms her narrative journey. Wendy is a final girl who unlike Laurie Strode (who is saved from the hands of Michael Myers by the shots of Dr Loomis’ gun) or Sally Hardesy (who avoids the peril of Leatherface’s chainsaw thanks to the arrival of a truck driver), doesn’t rely upon a man to save the day and come to her rescue. Is it possible perhaps, that as a: ‘confirmed ghost story and horror addict’ (which Jack reveals to Ulman during his interview), Wendy has studied the trials of women under threat and given the volatile nature of her relationship, paid particular attention to the steps they take in order to overcome the onscreen monsters before putting theory into practice? We will never know. There is no doubt as I highlighted earlier that the plot revolves around Jack. However, although his character is solidified as a compelling study of addiction and masculinity with a distinct lack of supporting evidence, misconceptions about Wendy as irksome and feeble are miscalculated and problematic. Through her stamina and underlying redeeming qualities, Wendy proves herself as a true survivor and the unsung heroine of not only The Shining but of the horror genre as a whole.
By Rebecca McCallum