Adapt this!

I want to thank FranQ for reading my blog and taking the time to comment, it’s nice to know that I’m not just burbling to myself here, all alone in the dimly-lit land of blog. And I’d like to thank him, too, for giving me a chance to explain why I fundamentally disagree with him while recycling arguments I’ve used before. It’s efficient, and it reduces my argument footprint, which is good for the environment – or something.


I think I disagree with FranQ on the merits of both Michael Chabon’s The Mysteries of Pittsburgh (which I found a bit juvenile and overwrought, but that’s hardly surprising given Chabon was practically juvenile when he wrote the book) and about Dodgeball (I laughed, several times) but that’s not the point of this post. I have bigger fish to fry.


 My point is that if Michael Chabon is happy to let a film maker change 85% of his story (how do you even come up with that percentage anyway?) then he is showing immense good sense.


 
Before I go on to make a handful of points, let me point out that this is not a rant at FranQ in particular, but at “fans” in general and fans who have opinions about film adaptations in particular:
 
 

 ONE: I would be perfectly happy if no one ever made a film adaptation of a novel ever again. Movies and novels are not the same thing and the sense that they are somehow interchangeable because they are both ways of delivering a “story” is nonsense. Films are good at surface and drama and action, novels are good at insight and emotion and context. Films that seek to faithfully adapt good novels are almost always bad films because they are trying to do things that films aren’t good at doing. Novelisations of films are almost always lousy novels because they have to shovel in vast amounts of filler to account for the lack of internal monologue supplied by the movie medium.
 

TWO: The fan’s desire to see their favourite novels “faithfully” adapted is either (a) a sign of the failure of their imagination or (b) a sign of their general stupidity. It’s a cliché but, even in this era of WETA and ILM, the mind’s eye is still a more effective special effects generator than anything the cinema will produce – and that’s not just in terms of creating big spaceships and giant explosions – but in terms of creating mood and depth and emotional connection. Nothing is going to deliver the sensation you got from reading the book you love and watching an adaptation can only confuse your impressions of the story with its representation on the screen.
 

THREE: Each of us gets something different from the stories we read, and this is especially true of the stories we love. No one understands the book you love in the same way you do. People find themselves drawn to particular characters or incidents or stylistic twitches by the author. And if each of us read our stories in different ways then there really can’t be a “faithful” movie adaptation of a story because even if the movie adaptation was the work of just one man/woman their reading would still differ in more or less subtle ways from yours and yours might differ quite dramatically from that of the author. Worse, though, is the fact that movies are produced by committee (writers, producers, director, actors, cinematographer, designers, etc.) and all of these bring their own interpretations which are not yours.
 

FOUR: Even if it were possible to find a narrative that could only be understood in one single way and that narrative could be “faithfully” transferred to the screen, who’d want to watch it? It would be a terrible novel and the most tediously dull movie you’ve ever watched because there’d be no room for your own interpretation and involvement in the story.
 

FIVE: Who cares what fans think? It’s not our story, it never was and it never will be. It’s like the Star Wars fans who whined about George Lucas going back and changing his films, as though the man should have asked for their consent. Chabon and Lucas and all the rest had the creative ability to imagine worlds that people loved, but it’s their creation, and if they want to change it, that’s up to them. No one’s going to come into your home and rip the pages from your copy of the novel or change the feelings you had when you first finished the book. Don’t like how the film sounds? Don’t go and see it! It’s unlikely to be compulsory.
 

SIX: Fans hate change. Fans like things that can be pinned down, dissected, known, absorbed and trusted. Don’t believe me? Go and check the sales figures for Star Trek technical manuals, or those Science of the X-Files or Science of Discworld books. Fans like things explained, known and unchanging. Think literary fans are different? Never, ever, get in an argument with a Jane Austen fan about the “reality” of her portrayal of that world. Fans demand continuity. So much so that every now and then publishers like DC and Marvel have to blow their “worlds” to pieces to stop being so thoroughly encased in continuity that they no longer have room to tell new stories. In other words, fans are the enemy of the new and the innovative.
 

FINALLY: (OK, it’s a bit more than a handful of points) FranQ’s comments suggest that he thinks Michael Chabon has somehow been corrupted by money (“And the sad part is… Michael Chabon himself APPROVED of the script! WHY would he do this? I can only think of one possible answer: $$”). As if somehow the artist shouldn’t be concerned about such things. Cobblers. There’s nothing noble about artists starving in garrets and nothing wrong with them getting paid handsomely for what they produce. If Hollywood wants to reward writers of Chabon’s calibre by handing them shed loads of cash, then I’m all in favour. Better Chabon than Clancy. But once they buy the rights, who really cares what they do with the script. It’s not the novel anymore. It’s a script that happens to share the same name. Relax. Forget it. 

If you want to make a film that represents your vision of the story, wait a few years, raise the money, buy the rights and remake the damn thing yourself.
 

By the way, here’s a hint for any Hollywood movie mogul out there. Buy the rights to one of my pathetic short stories for a seven figure sum (sterling, please) and not only will I not complain about what you do to it in the process of the adaptation, I’ll have your company logo tattooed on my back and parade shirtless (not a pretty sight) through London’s streets loudly proclaiming your wisdom, virtue and artistic brilliance.

2 Comments so far

  1. franQ on July 11th, 2007

    Thanks for acknowledging my comments acknowledging your blog!

    Your point are ALL well taken. I TOTALLY understand what you’re saying BUT…

    I still don’t see why Thurber found it necessary to remove MAJOR characters (Arthur) and CHANGE others (Cleveland) to make this story “work” on screen. (85% comes from the fact that only 15 pages out of the 120 resemble the novel in anyway!)

    Nobody is going to capture the brilliance of Chabon’s prose/Art Bechstein’s inner monologue in a film but they could at least tell the story the way it was originally intended.

    It’s like somebody adapting HARRY POTTER for the screen and completely cutting Ron out of the story and making Nevil Longbottom Harry’s best friend… Who would do that?!

  2. Michael J. Farrand on July 13th, 2007

    Great post. Thought you might like to see my thoughts on adapting for the screen.

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