Christine Is Unhinged: A First-Time Watch I Was Not Ready For—Raging Stephen King Logic™ at 90 MPH

I put on Christine thinking, “Cool, killer car movie.” What I got instead was Stephen King Logic™ at full throttle, and I was NOT prepared.

First of all—why are all Stephen King bullies built like divorced dock workers? One of these dudes had a switchblade and a mortgage. Sir, you are not failing algebra—you are late on child support. And don’t get me started on George selling the car like, “Yeah my brother died six weeks ago.” SIX WEEKS?! That car had rust, dust, mold, AND a curse. That’s a decade minimum. Christine looked like she’d been abandoned since the Nixon administration.

But fine. I let it slide. Because vibes.

Then Christine starts repairing herself. For real tho? Not metaphorically. Not symbolically. Like FULL ON “body horror Transformers” right in front of Arnie—and my man just goes, “Okay. Show me.” No fear. No questions. Just acceptance. He crazy now. That’s when I knew: Arnie GONE gone.

From there it’s straight chaos. Christine pulling up slow on the bullies like, “You good? Remember when you dropped a dookie on me!?!” One dude STEPS INTO THE STREET and asks, “You ain’t mad, are ya?” MAD?! Brother, this car is BEYOND emotions. She’s petty. She’s vengeful. She’s an emotionally abusive girlfriend with horsepower.

A flaming car chasing you down is insane—but also? You DID poop on her dashboard, so I don’t know what justice looks like anymore.

By the end, Christine uses Arnie up, kicks him out, plays a love song while he dies, resets her odometer to zero, and twitches like, “Round two.” Nah. Drop her in the Mariana Trench. Problem solved.

Stephen King didn’t write a haunted car movie. He wrote a breakup horror story between a sad boy and a succubus—and Christine absolutely won.