The film attempts to replicate this on occasion, focusing on Cujo’s droopy expression during the middle of the narrative, particularly in the encounter with Joe’s son, Brett.
In the hands of a lesser writer, the moments of Cujo’s interiority where he questions his sudden mania could be corny, but King manages to make it a heart-wrenching insight into the decline of an otherwise good-natured dog. King allows the dog its own perspective running through the book, his limited mind unable to cope with or fight his changing mental state. There are some fantastic moments of tragedy peppered through it, particularly the ending and when it comes to Cujo himself. It carries a few of the regular hallmarks: smalltown Americana ravaged by a menace, a family unit at the heart of it all attempting to keep it together, and a fevered writing style with no chapters, just breaks in the text as King switches between scenes.
Stephen King openly admits he has little memory of writing Cujo, as he put the book together during the height of his alcohol addiction.
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