Unorthodox Adaptations

As film critics and larger audiences flock to see their favorite literature adapted onto the big screen, the most common topic of discussion is probably level of fidelity to the source text. Current popular fiction appears to be most hotly debated, but what about adaptations of classic literature? It seems to me that quite often adaptations of classic literature are given more leeway and room for creativity without as much outrage from the general public at any discrepancies. Why is this the case? Is it positive or negative, or perhaps it is neither? Two such pieces of classic literature that have been adapted in unorthodox ways are Jane Austen's Emma and William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing.

Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma
in 1996

Alicia Silverstone as Cher in 1995

In 1995, Director Amy Heckerling took Austen's novel, Emma, and adapted it into a radical version many people no longer recognized. Clueless, starring Alicia Silverstone as the "Emma" character named Cher, takes place in Los Angeles and trades 18th-century gowns in for 1990's miniskirts. And, though this adaption of Emma is definitely radical, it holds true to many of the novel's key themes, while transporting Austen into the 20th-century. Both Cher and Emma hold to the value of relationships, and the film does a great job of focusing on women and the way they communicate to build those relationships, as Austen's novel does. So, even though Clueless has the ability to stand on its own, it is also a quite credible adaption that appeals to a wider variety of people.


The same thing can be said, I believe, for Joss Whedon's 2012 adaptation of Much Ado About Nothing. Though I can't exactly say this version is radical, as the dialogue remains faithful to the original text, it definitely creates an unorthodox modern lens for us to view Shakespeare through. As I mentioned, the actors in the film speak using the play's original dialogue, however, the film takes place in modern times with modern dress. The situations acted out are also updated, so a current audience might better understand and relate to them. Honestly, I was surprised at how well the original dialogue lent itself to modern situations. These situations allowed Shakespeare's original intentions to be conveyed more realistically for 2012, but it was still Shakespeare. Whedon's strange blend of old and new was able to bridge the gap between classic literature, which often equals "boring" films only dedicated nerds and English majors love, and modern/popular films, which reach a wider audience.

Both Emma and Much Ado About Nothing have been adapted in less traditional ways and found success. They seem to have been given more freedom play with the source text and create something different. If a director were to do that today, with a popular novel, they would probably be met with skepticism and unhappy fans. Why do you think classic literature can get away with more than popular literature? It is a positive thing? I believe it is positive, especially when looking at these two examples. They both create wonderful equivalence of meaning with their respective source texts, and they help to reach a larger, more diverse population. This opens the door to increased dialogue about the original work, and I can only see that as positive. As for why they have that freedom, I'm not sure. Maybe it is just a matter of time, and their "biggest fans" have come and gone, as will the fans of our popular fiction today.

Emma's Focus: Is it More Than Love?

Something I've noticed when thinking about adaptations and "fidelity" is that many films seem to pick a few key points from a novel to focus on instead of trying to show them all. This makes sense because they can spend more time developing a few important themes and do them justice, rather than glazing over each theme  an have the audience miss the point because they've tried to fit in everything. One theme that always seems to make its way from a novel to the center of a film is love. Somehow, love becomes the "go-to" focal point for many adaptations, even if it is not the point of a given novel, or barely exists in said novel. I get it, love is exciting; it sells tickets; it's what people want to see in order to live vicariously through the characters, but if it isn't the point of the novel, should it be the point of the film?

Emma by Jane Austen is one such novel that is frequently adapted into a sweeping romance, such as the one directed by Douglas McGrath, starring Gwyneth Paltrow as Emma. While there are pining hearts, professions of love, and weddings in the novel (it wouldn't be Jane Austen without them), these are not the point or purpose; they are merely surface things that occur and help convey the "bigger picture." A great example of this romantic exaggeration is the scene at Box Hill. In both the film and the novel, there is tension between Emma and Mr. Knightly, but in the film, a much bigger deal is made of this scene and the resulting changes Emma makes. The novel would have us see Emma's change as slightly less dramatic, and I believe, more due to Emma's self-reflection. Granted, this self-reflection is brought on by Mr. Knightly's reproof, but she ultimately decides her behavior was wrong and thus should be rectified. The film, however, makes Emma's change out to be as a result of her love for Mr. Knightly. She hasn't fully realized the depth of her feelings (yet), but we are led to understand that her reaction and subsequent change of heart is all for him.

The novel provides important reflection time for both Emma and Knightly to realize and develop their feelings for one another. It also gives Emma time to think about who she has been and how she wants to change that. In the film, we see almost instantaneous attachment between the two in their looks and body language, and from this point on, the film's focus is on their relationship. Emma's change of attitude is also fairly quick, and as I mentioned before, it is motivated by her desire to look good to Knightly.

So what? Why should we care that one medium focuses on the love story more forcefully than the other? I would say that it isn't much of an issue, unless the film forgets the more important themes Austen is trying to convey, i.e. having equivalence of meaning. In Emma, Austen focuses on the importance of things that happen during dull, everyday life. Of particular importance are the things that women see, say, and do, which is why the novel is full of relationships. The relationships are not the point, it is the women discussing them and how they go about doing so in their daily lives. This is what a film should strive to capture. Does the Box Hill scene of the movie ruin what Austen is trying to achieve? No, I don't think so, but I think it may be missing the part of the point by skipping over Emma's self-reflection and slow, deliberate transformation, which involves quite a few other women, not just Mr. Knightly.

Women in "Rear Window"

Before watching Rear Window, I went in expecting to really enjoy it because I liked the short story it is based on, It Had to be Murder by Cornell Woolrich. While I did like the film in general, there was something about it that made me hesitant to be really excited about what I had just seen; something that had made me a bit uncomfortable throughout the film. This something was the view and portrayal of women throughout the movie.

When the film opens, we are treated to the view that Jeff has out of his back window. We see a variety of men and women that reappear in the next scene, where Jeff is on the phone, looking out his window. While there are a few men focused on, those we see are engaged in doing things, such as composing music or arriving home from work. The majority of Jeff's time is spent looking at women, who appear to be doing idle or silly things. For example, Jeff watches a couple of sunbathers on top of a roof, who appear to take their clothing off, though he can't see them. Another example that stands out to me is the dancing woman across from him. The first time she appears, her top falls off, and the next time we see her, Jeff watches her dance around in next to nothing, even bending over for a few seconds. She continues to appear in the film as an "object" of study for not only Jeff, but also for Doyle and even Lisa and Stella, though they seem to study her in a different way than the men do most of the time.

Another woman looked at in this way throughout the film is Lisa, Jeff's love interest. The first time we see her is a close-up shot of her face. She is done up to look perfectly gorgeous, and she looks almost like a dream, which is magnified by Jeff waking up to her face. It almost seems as though she represents what the ideal image of a woman should look like. Lisa is clearly very beautiful, but Jeff thinks she is too perfect. He is resistant to marrying her because he doesn't think she can handle what his job requires, no matter what she says about it. He only really begins to "see" her once she gets involved in his investigation, and he begins to actually care about her once she steps out of his apartment and into the world he looks at out his window.

Our first image of Lisa

The issue here is between those who get to look vs. those who are looked at. The camera eye of this movie, along with many Hollywood films still today, is male, meaning the female characters are gazed at by the camera. This can also be called the male gaze, where the man looks and holds the power, and the woman is looked at because she is just an object to be seen. The examples I gave are only a few of the many I noticed as I was watching.

The problem that arises from this view of "looker" and "looked at" is that the woman being looked at is seen as lesser, as she is reduced to an object. The most powerful example I saw of this was when Lisa told Doyle of her ideas about the missing wife's purse and jewelry. Not only did Doyle not believe her, he outright dismissed her on the basis that because she is a woman, any ideas she has are only "feminine intuition," which is only a fairy tale. He doesn't want to listen to her, but he had no problem looking at her when she first came into the room.

Lisa vs. Doyle

I could go on and on about this topic. There were many examples throughout the movie, and I didn't even touch on the film's treatment of marriage, especially the view of women in marriage. The important thing is to not let the negative words, actions, and even beliefs that permeate a film adversely affect our behavior, but instead to have open discussions about why we have to be different.

Adapting Fitzgerald: Questions of Fidelity

As an English major and avid reader for most of my life, I have long been guilty of condemning otherwise decent films for not being entirely "faithful" to the novels that came before them. I wanted these films to adhere 100% to the novels they were made from because I had read them and fallen in love. Very recently, I've learned how much more I would have enjoyed these movies if I had kept an open mind and let the movie tell the story in its own unique way. It was especially through looking at and discussing F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel The Great Gatsby and watching the 1974 and 2013 film versions of this novel that I could see the merits of a more loosely adapted film.

Though there are many critics of Baz Luhrmann's 2013 adaptation of The Great Gatsby, I absolutely love it. Not only is it a fun movie to watch, but I believe it does a wonderful job of capturing the spirit of Fitzgerald's novel. In order to feel the excitement and properly enjoy a movie like this, you really have to suspend all judgement and comparisons to the novel at first. There are many things about the 2013 movie that are unexpected and unorthodox, which leaves you wondering what decade you are actually watching. A prime example of this is the music throughout the movie. A whole argument could be made surrounding the music in this film, but all I will say is that I think it is a clever device that helps make the story accessible to a modern audience, as well as making a fantastic soundtrack. Suspending quick judgments is important in order to see how faithful the movie truly is. Faithful to what, you might say? The movie does change much of the narration of Nick Carraway, and everything does look and feel more modern, but is any of that really as important as we make it out to be?

I would argue that the 2013 film has the most important element of fidelity, which lets me ignore its imperfections and enjoy it wholeheartedly. This movie has what Andre Bazin calls "equivalence of meaning" with the novel. I think the 2013 Gatsby captures something the 1974 version completely misses, which is the heart and spirit of the novel. In the 1974 version, we don't understand Gatsby or his undying hope, we don't feel the carelessness of the Buchanans or the time, and we don't feel the shock or trauma of Myrtle's death. The 2013 version communicates all of these things in a very poignant way. Using some dialogue directly from the novel and some new, scenes are created that give us the world Fitzgerald was trying to critique, and we see why. The movie looks like a big party gone wrong, using fewer words than the novel but communicating the same message, which is the most important thing for a film to do. By the end of the film, we understand why Nick says to Gatsby, "You're worth the whole damn bunch." This is crucial to the novel, and thus, to the film.

A short example of the faithfulness of the 2013 film is the Valley of Ashes scene. The 2013 version uses only three phrases directly from the novel, yet through images, scenery, camera angles, and dialogue it shows in roughly 45 seconds what the novel takes two and a half pages to tell. The 1974 film hardly gives any information about this part of the novel, and it is severely lacking. So, questions of fidelity are not as simple as they seem. An edgy film that on the surface seems out in left field may, in fact, be more true to the novel than it appears. If it has "equivalence of meaning" and captures the purpose behind the novel, than I believe the film is successful in being faithful.

Stranger than Fiction

Literature and film have an interesting and sometimes difficult relationship. Questions of fidelity to plot and characterization are often at the forefront of many avid readers' minds as they watch movies "based on" their favorite novels. However, what if a movie were to play with the ways we view the relationship between the author and his or her story from the very beginning? Would that change anything about the way we see and judge the resulting film? I think director Marc Forster's film, Stranger than Fiction, can give some interesting insights on such a topic.

In this film, Harold Crick is our boring, IRS auditor of a main character, who goes about his life with the same old mundane patterns everyday, that is, until he begins to hear author Karen Eiffel narrating his every move. Karen believes she is just writing her next big, best-selling novel as she contemplates how to kill Harold. Harold panics when he hears someone say he is going to die because to him, he is more than just a character. Confusing, right?

Their relationship is so fascinating because we often don't get to see the author-character relationship while a novel is "in progress." An author may tell us what he or she felt as they were writing, but we will never truly know what it is like in their head. In the case of Karen and Harold, Karen is detached from her work; she is simply trying to write something masterful, meaningful, and marketable. She doesn't come to see Harold as a "person" until she meets him face-to-face. What makes this so complicated is that the movie never really addresses whether or not Harold is actually there, or if he and his whole world are just in Karen's mind. Either way, Harold changes Karen in ways she could never have imagined, which is really important to not only the film, but to the novel within the film, which is what makes the film...and the cycle continues.

This change is exciting because it causes Karen to reevaluate the direction of her novel. She writes novels that kill people, yet Harold causes her to pause and think about this. Harold is just a character, but he becomes real to her. This is a great illustration of how characters affect the writing process for an author. Through the writing process, they can show an author who they really are, contrary to what he/she may have originally intended. They can change the direction of an entire story, leading the author down the path they intend to take as the plot develops. The author has much less control than we assume because sometimes, they don't even know what their intentions were as they were writing. Karen changes the ending of her novel, and consequently the whole thing, from something that was a work of art, to something that is just ok. Why? Because she met a character who demanded life simply by the way he faced his death, and she had to give him a different ending. The movie does a great job of portraying Karen as a writer faced with a difficult decision. We are lucky to get a glimpse of that journey, even if it is fictionalized.

I wonder how many novels I've read where the author originally intended something entirely different than what the outcome was, after characters took shape, introduced themselves, and demanded something new?