🎬 A Tribute to the Film Christine
Part 6 – A Tribute
Jari opened the door and gestured for Veijo to come in.
“Come on. Let’s go inside and talk about Christine.”
Veijo stepped into the hallway, took off his jacket, and looked around. There was something familiar in the air — the quiet of an old house, the smell of coffee, and that calm feeling you only get when you know you’re about to talk about something important.
“Do you want coffee?” Jari asked.
“Yes. I do,” Veijo replied immediately.
Jari started the coffee maker. The familiar sound filled the kitchen, and for a moment neither of them spoke. They both knew exactly what this conversation was about.
“Christine,” Jari finally said quietly.
Veijo nodded.
“It’s not just a car,” Veijo said. “It never was.”
Jari sat down at the table and looked out the window, as if seeing another time in his mind.
“When Christine begins, it feels different right away. The year is 1957. A red Plymouth Fury is born in the factory. And even then… something is wrong.”
Veijo leaned back in his chair.
“Do you remember the moment when the worker gets trapped in the door? And another one has a heart attack? The car hasn’t even hit the streets yet — and it’s already killing.”
Jari nodded.
“That tells you everything. Christine isn’t born evil by accident. It’s there from the very beginning.”
They drank their coffee in silence for a while.
“Then we move into the seventies,” Jari continued. “Arnie Cunningham. Quiet, insecure, always living in someone else’s shadow.”
“And Dennis,” Veijo added. “The complete opposite. Confident, popular — but still a loyal friend.”
“And Leigh,” Jari said. “The one who sees right away that Christine isn’t just an old car.”
Jari kept talking — about how Arnie finds Christine as a wreck, how he falls in love with it, how the car begins to change… and how Arnie changes with it.
“That’s one of the greatest things in film history,” Jari said. “The car doesn’t just kill people. It changes its owner.”
Veijo nodded slowly.
“Arnie becomes someone else. His posture changes. His voice changes. His eyes change.”
“Christine consumes him,” Jari said. “But it does it slowly. Like a lover that won’t let go.”
They talked about the scenes that stayed with them:
– the car repairing itself
– the flaming chase down a dark road
– the rock ’n’ roll that plays whenever Christine approaches
– the fear that doesn’t come from jump scares, but from inevitability
“Christine doesn’t run,” Veijo said. “It comes. Always.”
Jari smiled faintly.
“And John Carpenter’s music. Simple. Cold. Perfect.”
They talked about the actors — how Keith Gordon made Arnie believable, how John Stockwell brought humanity to Dennis, and how Alexandra Paul gave Leigh her strength.
“This is a tribute to all of them,” Jari said. “Without them, Christine wouldn’t be Christine.”
Veijo looked down at his coffee cup.
“And that’s why this story continues,” he said. “Not as a copy. But as a memory.”
Jari nodded.
“Yes. Christine lives as long as someone remembers it.”
For a moment, there was complete silence.
Then, somewhere in the distance, it felt as if a radio clicked on.
Rock ’n’ roll played softly.