Grade: C+

Anyone who’s ever dreamed of seeing “E.T.” with Anthony Hopkins as the cuddly visitor from beyond is directed to the new film that William Goldman and Scott Hicks have fashioned from a couple of stories by Stephen King. Superficially “Hearts in Atlantis” resembles “Stand By Me” (as well as many other King tales that look back nostalgically on a group of kids’ brush with danger–an event through which they gain a sad maturity); and it also prominently showcases the abuse of women–a theme that the author has been absorbed with since “Dolores Claiborne.” But in its overall structure, the picture seems most closely patterned after Steven Spielberg’s 1982 classic, although it also occasionally calls to mind other films (e.g., Robert Wise’s “The Day The Earth Stood Still”) too.

That isn’t to imply that Hopkins’ Ted Brautigan, the strangely prescient lodger who moves into the top floor of a house with eleven-year old Bobby Garfield (Anton Yelchin) and his widowed mom Liz (Hope Davis) during the summer of 1960, is necessarily a visitor from outer space; giving away the character’s secret would be unfair. But the script by Goldman (fashioned from two pieces from King’s 1999 collection of tales) emphasizes the almost preternatural calm and insight exhibited by the newcomer, to whom young pals Bobby, Carol (Mika Boorem) and Sully (Will Rothhaar) are instinctively drawn, even as Bobby’s self-centered mother views him with suspicion and alarm. Over time Ted becomes a mentor to Bobby, introducing him gently to Truths About Life while encouraging his affection for Carol, assuring him about the goodness of his absent dad (whom Liz regularly bad-mouths) and protecting him against the threats of the neighborhood bully Harry Doolin (Timmy Reifsnyder). But there are peculiarities about Ted that give Bobby pause: the man occasionally goes into what seem to be trances, and he worries over the possibility that shadowy figures he refers to as “low men” might show up to do him harm. And Liz’s increasingly close relationship with a boss who’s clearly on the make disturbs the boy, too. Bobby’s forced to grow up when Ted, Carol and Liz are all violated in different ways.

There’s obviously quite a bit going on here, and it’s all given the glow of portentous recollection by the decision to relate it from the perspective of a much older Bobby (David Morse), who returns home after many years’ absence for a funeral and is forced to confront his distant past (in much the same way the character voiced by Richard Dreyfus did in “Stand By Me”). But though there’s a lot of incident, the narrative’s not terribly clever of compelling: under the best of circumstances, after all, King doesn’t so much compose solid stories as spin pulpish yarns, and this isn’t one of his stronger ones. But it’s robbed of any urgency it might have possessed by Hicks’ staid, somber helming. Like his first American project, the drearily lethargic “Snow Falling on Cedars,” “Hearts” lumbers along at a glacial pace, and the pulse seems to slow even more as the picture plods on. The goal was obviously to invest the tale with a sense of mystery and make it seem pregnant with meaning (as well as shimmering with gauzy remembrance), but the result is too often just plain dull. To be sure, one can admire the luminous cinematography and the care lavished on individual shots: at times the lighting’s so perfectly gauged that, given the length of time one’s allowed to pore over a scene, it’s almost possible to count the motes of dust flying about in the glare. But sequences are repeatedly sapped of all dramatic energy by the sluggardly gait.

The pall extends to Hopkins’ performance as the ethereal Ted. He’s not asked for much vigor–physical stillness is the key to the character–and he glides through the proceedings with the same kind of rigid precision with which Alec Guinness invested Obi Wan Kenobi (through none of the late star’s offhanded irony). What he does bring to the party is that wonderful voice, used like a musical instrument–now a melodious oboe, now a croaking bassoon–to give even banal dialogue a hint of wonder. He also plays nicely off Yelchin, a youngster who can be ingratiating without becoming irritating. Otherwise, though, the cast is disappointing. Davis does well enough as the unhappy Liz, but as written her character is insufficiently shaded to earn much sympathy. Boorem is little more than generic as Carol, and Morse isn’t given much more to do than look morose.

What “Hearts in Atlantis” lacks is the touch of magic which it persistently tells us was in the air during Bobby’s summer of ’60 and which Hicks tries all too desperately, and unsuccessfully, to convey. Some lightening of the persistently dour mood would have helped enormously. A juxtaposition of a revelation about a young thug, who we’re told likes to dress up in his mother’s clothes, with the proclivities of the federal official later identified as the story’s ultimate villain could, for example, have proven quite amusing if treated with some delicacy. Bit here it’s as glum as everything else in Hicks’ overinflated treatment of King’s slight, slender piece. Despite Hopkins, “E.T.” is still the preferred version of this story.