A bit of Friday fun…
A few years ago, I tried to get my social media activities on the road, but didn't put enough fuel in the tank to get very far. One of the features I started to run in my blog was 'Five For Friday', where I would post a list of five linked items each Friday—the theme was often related to writing and books, but it might have just been random or whimsical thoughts that caught my fancy in an idle moment.
I enjoyed putting these lists together, so I've decided to take the concept out of suspended animation. In some cases, I'll give an expanded version of my 'take' on the topic in my end-of-month newsletter (follow the link at the end of this post to subscribe).
So, to start the ball rolling: a list of five outstanding film adaptations of literary works.
1. The Dead (Dir. John Huston, 1987), adapted from the short story of the same name in James Joyce's collection Dubliners (1904). It was Huston's last film—he died in the year of its release.
2. Babette's Feast (Dir. Gabriel Axel, 1987), from the short story of the same name in the collection Anecdotes of Destiny (1958) by Karen Blixen, writing as Isak Dinesen.
I always think of these two films as a sort of diptych of perfection. It is a pretty extraordinary coincidence that two such exquisite gems—each in its own right a one-in-a-thousand masterpiece—were released in the same year. Both films are remarkably faithful in spirit, and largely also literally, to the original stories: even the slight divergences (more in The Dead than Babette's Feast) are noticeable only to those familiar with the written works.
These are films in which nothing much happens, yet everything happens; and the casts put in magnificent, perfectly judged, ensemble performances.
3. The Haunting (Dir. Robert Wise, 1963), from the novel The Haunting of Hill House (1959) by Shirley Jackson.
Although this film—inevitably, adapted as it was from a novel rather than a short story—left out more of its source text than the previous two, it did so in a way that did not traduce the original narrative or, even more importantly, its eerie affect. Despite the fact that the haunting presence is never seen, the film contains one of the scariest scnes ever committed to celluloid.
4. The Innocents (Dir. Jack Clayton, 1961), from the novella The Turn of the Screw (1898) by Henry James.
Of my five choices, this is probably the least close of five to the original text in one sense—the equivalent of James's elliptical narrative voice would never have made it into a mainstream film. Nor does it quite maintain the perfectly balanced ambiguity as to the reality of the supernatural events experienced. It features two exceptionally sinister children, the young boy in particular, who bring a real weirdness to the film.
5. The Riddle of the Sands (Dir. Tony Maylam, 1979), from the 1903 novel of the same name by Erskine Childers.
To wrap up, a ripping yarn—a straightforward adventure tale lifted out of the ordinary by the deep love of sailing and the sea that pervades the narrative and effectively constitutes a main character in itself. Despite being a spy thriller, both the book and the film are characterized by a leisurely pace; part of what makes the film such a good adaptation is that it resists the temptation to ramp up the action, and instead allows it to unfold at a rate dictated by the shifting currents and fogs the heroes must navigate.
I have watched these films many times, more often than I have read their literary sources: it's easier to set aside the hour and a half needed for watching, for one thing. And one is far less likely to spill a mug of tea or cocoa into the DVD player than on a book…
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