Converting a novel into a film is a daunting task: the screenwriter must pare down the script, eliminate irrelevant subplots and commercialize the characters. Of course, questions of fidelity to the original text arise, and directors are almost always forced to defend their interpretations to loyal fans of the book.
Unfortunately, these directorial choices are often indefensible. Roland Joffé's version of The Scarlet Letter (1995) is sexualized almost to the point of being pornographic, while Robert Zemeckis tried so hard to bring Beowulf (2007) into the digital age that it detracts from the epic English poem. In both cases, aiming to drastically reinvent a classic text had disastrous consequences.
Some books simply don't translate well into screenplays. The cult classic novel The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is famous for its outrageous irreverence and dry sense of humor, both of which were missing from the 2005 film's narrative. Eager fans were devastated at seeing their beloved Douglas Adams masterpiece bastardized.
Some big screen letdowns can be blamed on actors who fail to deliver. The Da Vinci Code (2006) depended mostly on Tom Hanks's turn as the brilliant Robert Langdon, but his portrayal is devoid of emotion and gets bogged down in technical dialogue. But at least Tom Hanks was a solid bet; the most recent version of Freaky Friday (2003) rode entirely on Lindsay Lohan's ability to play both a rebellious teenager and a serious mom, but the hijinks were predictable and her generational jokes fell flat.
But there's hope. Though it's become a cliché that the book is always better than the movie, when that elusive well-made adaptation comes along, it can be truly enchanting.
1939, the year color came to the silver screen, was a great moment for adaptations: Gone With the Wind and The Wizard of Oz were both released that year. Despite being produced well before the advents of modern editing techniques and special effects, Victor Fleming (who directed both films) managed to transport his viewers into the entirely disparate worlds of a Southern plantation and the Emerald City.
Occasionally, a well-done adaptation will popularize a little-known novel. P.D. James's dystopian work Children of Men was not widely read, but the 2006 film featured outstanding direction by Alfonso Cuarón, ultimately grossing almost $70 million worldwide. Not many people read the Hannibal Lecter series, but The Silence of the Lambs (1991) won five Oscars and became an instant classic.
It's hard to see your work entrusted to another artist's imagination, so it's no wonder that authorial reactions to adaptations of their novels have varied so widely. Mario Puzo, author of The Godfather series (1972, 1974, 1990), refused to let anyone else write the screenplay, which turned out to be a work of genius. Author Chuck Palahniuk found that director Chuck Fincher's film ending to Fight Club (1999) was even better than the one he wrote for the novel. On the other hand, Ken Kesey famously refused to watch the movie version of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975) despite its rave reviews and five Oscar wins, saying that the script was entirely disloyal to his book.
The holy grail of adaptation is to stay faithful to the spirit of the book while forming a unique identity. Stanley Kubrick's A Clockwork Orange (1971) and Danny Boyle's Trainspotting (1996) accomplish this goal. The films benefit from talented acting, masterful direction and extraordinary musical scores, making it almost unnecessary to read the books (almost).
In the end, film adaptations need to be able to stand on their own. While the book provides a sturdy foundation from which to build, if the movie itself isn't good, it doesn't matter how loyal it is to the original.
