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... what is the general perception of the historical 'heritage' drama adaptations of the 1980s ('A Room with a View', 'Maurice', 'Chariots of Fire', 'A Passage to India', etc.) and especially Merchant Ivory productions?
Do people consider these as 'art films', or if not art films at least 'arty films'?
Do they actually portray anything further than gratuitous nostalgia and pretty pictures of a world that doesn't exist any more?
I'm just trying to gauge public opinion, not asking for anything very profound. If you haven't seen any of these films, you can safely ignore this post.
I have a motive in asking these questions -- my undergraduate dissertation is likely to devote itself mostly to the recent BBC drama 'The Line of Beauty', which I would suggest that has much more in common with that genre (the historical literary adaptation/costume drama) than it does with the contemporary gay serial drama of the 'Queer as Folk' type.
I also have to make a seminar presentation on Tuesday in which I offer something exciting and interesting on the genre. If someone can suggest something I will love him to bits.
David
[Updated on: Sat, 21 October 2006 21:20] |
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Deeej wrote:
> Do people consider these as 'art films', or if not art films at least 'arty films'?
>
> Do they actually portray anything further than gratuitous nostalgia and pretty pictures of a world that doesn't exist any more?
>
Can't say that I really consider them art - more a kinda prettified version of reality for those who are uncomfortable with anything too raw. A bit like gastro-porn (cookery magazines for those who like the pics but rarely cook), as opposed to reading Elizabeth David ...
But I'm quite prepared to admit that in this respect I'm probably a grumpy old man who spent too much of my youth hanging around in dark theatres with cutting-edge writers and actors, many of whom have gone on to Hollywood and/or TV, and are - in my view - now producing much less than the best they are capable of.
I can't think of anything new and exciting about such movies - though at the time many of them were unusual in often having strongly homoerotic visual elements. But the genre goes back a long way - the first one I remember seeing that fits the description was "The Go-Between" in 1970.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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I do not think of them as more arty than any other film, either -- but for some reason many people seem to think they are. They are presumably mistaking opulence and pretty scenery and unashamed nostalgia for great film-making.
I agree with you that it's not a terribly exciting genre, but I'm having to learn quite a lot about it to form a basis for at least some of my dissertation. I also volunteered to do a presentation on the subject; at the moment I'm at rather a loss what to talk about. Either I echo the sentiments of those sources I have (which is unoriginal), or I stick to researching facts (which is boring) or I come up with something wild and off-the-wall and brilliant (which is, er, very unlikely).
David
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Well, I know that there's a point of view that says these movies are in fact a way of rendering "post-modern dilemmas" (feminism, gender roles, queer theory, etc) within a framework of the past ... If this is ever the intention of the directors - which I greatly doubt - the lushness of the productions and settings quite over-whelms it. I would in any case argue strongly that it is lacking in integrity to project a contemporary concept such as queer theory into the historic past (which is an artifice), within a setting which concentrates on extreme accuracy of historical period detail.
But, as I've said, my own take on this is almost certainly eccentric!
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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I agree that it is overkill to assume that the directors are fishing for a certain reading. But there is definitely something projected onto a film by the time it is made. A historical adaptation would be different if it were made now than if it were made 25, or 35, or 45 years ago, regardless of its setting -- it is ultimately aimed at the audiences of the time it is released. If a film is based on a novel then there are certain limitations, but a director can choose to enhance certain themes and bring something of his own outlook to the work -- and I am of the opinion that most do. Thus their films are likely to contain at least passing reference to modern concepts, even though they are unlikely to be as finely honed as an academic might have you believe.
I've just read an article on 'A Room with a View' and the author talks about various gay subtexts within the story that I had not noticed at the time I saw the film. They are, on reflection, obviously meant by the director (himself a gay man) to be there, even though their purpose may be up for debate. I would have no idea whether they were in the original novel (unfortunately I haven't read it), but I assume not.
As for integrity -- well, it's not a critically acclaimed genre precisely because of the mixed messages it sends out. Many otherwise valid messages are undermined by the lushness of the setting, production design and costume, but that doesn't mean that they weren't intentional.
David
[Updated on: Sat, 21 October 2006 23:45] |
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Deeej wrote:
> As for integrity -- well, it's not a critically acclaimed genre precisely because of the mixed messages it sends out. Many otherwise valid messages are undermined by the lushness of the setting, production design and costume, but that doesn't mean that they weren't intentional.
>
My (uncharitable) suspicion is that the undermining of the messages by the production values is precisely the appeal of such films - it encourages an avoidance of committment by both director and audience. And - for me - work that hedges its bets in this way is second-rate art.
"The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. ... Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night devoid of stars." Martin Luther King
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True, true -- mixed messages are not much better than none at all. A social commentary that is supposed to undermine a society but instead ends up making it look wonderful is a bit silly. Unfortunately that sort of thing happens all the time in films. Almost all recent blockbusters that ostensibly warn against the perils of out-of-control technology use gratuitous amounts of technology in portraying them (The Matrix, Jurassic Park), for example.
I asked in the first place because I have seen other people single such films out as specific examples of art cinema, and it has always rather irritated me, because they aren't. The best that can be said for such films is that they are competently made, if ultimately (for the reasons we have discussed) rather shallow examples of their craft.
David
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cossie
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On fire! |
Location: Exiled in North East Engl...
Registered: July 2003
Messages: 1699
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I'm intrigued by the implication that the Merchant-Ivory films and others of the genre are in essence pedestrian and lacking in merit.
It seems to me that in most branches of the Arts - Film, Literature, Painting, Architecture, Music and the rest - those creatively active in the sphere have an agenda and perception of quality which differs from that of the public at large. For example, in the field of architecture many structures hailed as innovative and ground-breaking at the time of construction are now regarded as liabilities and eyesores. 30 St. Mary Axe ('The Gherkin') is a splendid addition to the London skyline; you may love it or hate it, but you cannot be other than impressed by it - but how many other post-war buildings in central London have that power to impress? [Non-Brits can search for 30 St. Mary Axe in Wikipedia to see what I'm rabbiting on about]
That, I'd suggest, is the real measure of quality. A product which excites the cognoscenti but leaves the public cold has little to commend it. In Britain, there is a current vogue for 'public sculptures' and huge sums are spent by local authorities in commissioning and erecting such works. They are unveiled with great enthusiasm, and much talk of their meaning and affinity with the location - but less than half of them succeed in capturing the appreciation and the affection of the public. There is little point in making a statement if all but a few find it unintelligible.
There is in Britain a long tradition of affection for times past. NW mentioned the film of 'The Go-Between'; the L. P. Hartley novel upon which the film was based begins with the words 'The Past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.' That is precisely the attraction. We also have a long tradition of futurist writing, which attracts us for much the same reason - it portrays a world beyond our own experiences. 'Nostalgic' has become an expression of derision in artistic circles - but why? What is wrong with looking back in affection?
The Merchant-Ivory company has achieved much public acclaim (and considerable critical acclaim) for its dramatisations of period novels - especially those by E. M. Forster (A Room with a View, Howards End, A Passage to India and Maurice) and Henry James (The Europeans, The Bostonians, The Golden Bowl). The screenplays by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala were all very well constructed, condensing the original novels without losing any of their texture and atmosphere. Like the novels, the films were solid and satisfying. The same is true for the genre as a whole, though some films do of course fall short of the Merchant Ivory standard.
In particular, the lushness and detailed sense of period of the E. M. Forster films is simply a reflection of Forster's writing. Ivory's direction is generally faithful to the original writer's views. I fail to understand the attraction of 're-interpretations'; the difference in intellect between the novelist and the director is all too often embarrassingly obvious.
Ground-breaking films CAN change public thinking. Ken Loach succeeded with a black-and-white TV play 'Cathy Come Home', which has achieved iconic status; David Kronenberg, innovative though he may be, has yet to equal that achievement. 'Cathy Come Home' is known to just about everyone with an interest in social welfare; 'Blue Velvet' is very much a film buffs' film. Intrinsic quality is - or should be - a measure of the extent to which a film engages the wider public, and by that yardstick almost all of the Merchant Ivory films display that quality in abundance. Why should every film have 'a message' And why is it that so many films purported to have 'a message' fail abysmally to impart that message to the wider public?
Finally, as regards NW's comments, it's true that James Ivory and Ismail Merchant were gay - they were a couple for over 40 years - but so was E. M. Forster, and since the posthumous publication of his overtly gay novel 'Maurice', gay themes have been identified in his earlier works. As he was a stickler for period accuracy, I suspect that such themes are an accurate reflection of the period in which his novels are set.
For a' that an' a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man tae man, the worrld o'er
Shall brithers be, for a' that.
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There have been some very erudite and thought-provoking comments produced as a result of your original posting Deeej. I wanted to be cynical and say the Merchant-Ivory productions only came into existence because E M Forster (in particular) must have passed into the public domain, but that theory was blown out of the water when I looked him up in my "Oxford Companion to English Literature" (Yes, I still use books!).
So, that being the case, I must assume it's another manifestation of that typically English sentiment, namely nostalgia. All very lush, soft-focus and 'costumey' for all the luvvies, but in the end, as about as satisfying as the picture on the chocolate-box, rather than the contents, although they would be saccharine enough.
These particular productions (Merchant-Ivory) were, if I remember correctly, hailed as being absolutely 'right' especially in regards to every detail; costumes, sets, settings, language etc. ad nauseam. Another thing the Brits can do; spend excessive time and money on getting minutiae right, but in the end, the final 'package' is strangely sterile, shrink-wrapped in its own plethora of stifling detail.
In the strict sense, they are not 'art' films; that is another genre altogether, I'm guessing here, and I expect someone with more knowledge will slap me on the wrists for talking out of the top of my head. YET I would call the Merchant-Ivory efforst 'artifice' rather than art. All too glib, too sanitised.
I missed a lot of the gay elements in the films, although of course, not in 'Maurice', but then the novel thrust gayness down one's throat, if you'll pardon the expression. Whether or not the film was as successful as the novel, I can't say. Personally, I wasn't too keen on the book, but Forster was anxious enough not to allow it to be published until after his death. But he wanted it published, which is an important point to remember.
But this is digression. The original question was whether or not people considered these films as 'art films' or at least 'arty' films. I would say 'no' to them being art films, definitely 'arty', and would propose a third option, namely they are 'artless' in the meaning of the word as being 'without guile.' They are just frolics in costume.
Sorry about the ramblings, I am listening to the last movement of Mahler 6 as I write this and find myself on a whole other plane, if not other planet! BTW: All 3 hammer-strokes! Awesome!
Hope I haven't wasted your time - if you managed to get this far!
Best wishes,
[Updated on: Mon, 13 November 2006 14:19] |
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I just remembered what I forgot to write in my earlier posting: I was asked to audition for the part of the 'go-between' in "The Go-Between" - strange, but true!
[Updated on: Mon, 13 November 2006 14:19] |
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I personally take just as sceptical a point of view of those who say, "This film is not art -- it has no merit," as those that say, "Art is what the people want, and if the people want this, it's art". Ultimately film is a commercial medium and to succeed it has to be commercial. If people like it, they will pay money to watch it and more along the same lines will be made, whether you define them as "art" or not. I have no objection to this. So I agree with you, Cossie, in many ways.
Cossie said,
>Ken Loach succeeded with a black-and-white TV play 'Cathy Come Home', which has achieved iconic status; David Kronenberg, innovative though he may be, has yet to equal that achievement. 'Cathy Come Home' is known to just about everyone with an interest in social welfare; 'Blue Velvet' is very much a film buffs' film.
(a) You might mean David Cronenberg, not Kronenberg.
(b) You probably don't mean him at all -- you probably mean David Lynch, as he made 'Blue Velvet'. David Cronenberg has achieved a lot of success with audiences and from that could already be said to be an 'iconic' popular director, I suppose.
Ken Loach has not always succeeded, incidentally -- these days he has been relegated to a niche market; indeed, in terms of audiences, I would suspect that David Lynch is probably more popular.
>Why should every film have 'a message' And why is it that so many films purported to have 'a message' fail abysmally to impart that message to the wider public?
There are very few films that don't have a message, and the same goes for popular films as well as art films. Popular films just tend to have a message that is closer to the surface. There is no need for a film to have an arty 'reading', but I suppose it keeps the academics happy...
>'Nostalgic' has become an expression of derision in artistic circles - but why? What is wrong with looking back in affection?
Nostalgia is a short cut to making people feel a certain way. I say this as someone who is interested foremost in the craft of film-making, not as a film student and certainly not as a film critic. One of the primary aims of conventional film-making is to change an audience's perceptions on an issue, to reveal something new to them about the relationships between characters. Nostalgia is certainly a strong emotion -- but if it is that that audiences warm to, not to the characters or the performances, then I would say that it's a cheap method of guaranteeing a certain amount of success for an otherwise barren film. Of course, this is an extreme case -- I do not, and would not ever say, that Merchant Ivory films have no merit at all. Simply that they have less creative merit than would meet the eye. As films they are perfectly well made.
>In particular, the lushness and detailed sense of period of the E. M. Forster films is simply a reflection of Forster's writing.
Not true. I'm on slightly shaky ground as I haven't read very much Forster, but Forster's works were intended as social commentary and satire, not a celebration of Edwardian values. The films succeed in making the time look so attractive -- through the lushness, the attention to period detail, through the beauty of the setting and the photography -- that this is largely lost to the audience. Therefore something good is being lost and something bad (though I admit it's pleasing to the eye) is being gained.
If I were making a film, I would want the mise-en-scene to reflect the action, rather than gratuitously making it look beautiful. This is a problem of a a lot of modern films, especially films with heavy special effects -- if the prettiness of the surface is not matched by something substantial underneath, audiences will leave feel disappointed. The Merchant Ivory films get away with it because the work underpinning them is decent literature -- but this doesn't mean that they aren't still losing something of it in the adaptation.
>As [Forster] was a stickler for period accuracy, I suspect that such themes are an accurate reflection of the period in which his novels are set.
Yes, but remember that Forster, and his audiences, were looking at them from a position of familiarity. They did not need to be told how wonderful they were -- they already knew they were not. What Merchant Ivory have done is set the stories in an artificial world that could have existed, but really did not.
>I fail to understand the attraction of 're-interpretations'; the difference in intellect between the novelist and the director is all too often embarrassingly obvious.
I have no fondness for very random re-interpretations. But every film adaptation is a re-interpretation to a certain extent. Film is a very different medium from the novel and if a novel is adapted over-literally you end up with very dry and sterile adaptations (witness some of the recent Harry Potters or the abysmal The Da Vinci Code).
David
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marc
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Needs to get a life! |
Registered: March 2003
Messages: 4729
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Or more to the point... The impact of innovation in the arts...
Although many innovative expamples eventualy evolve into "schools" or "genre" within (but not necessarily limited to) the following each collects over time the individual examples, when examined for their own merit and/or the artistic departure from the norm tend to wane over time....
While I have seen the films you listed.....
'A Room with a View' ....... Nothing remarkable other than I enjoyed it.
'Maurice' ........ At the time it evoked certain obvious feelings.
'Chariots of Fire' ....... Did not care for it much.
'A Passage to India', ....... Beautiful in imagery yet long in places and it eventually lost my interest.
Do they actually portray anything further than gratuitous nostalgia and pretty pictures of a world that doesn't exist any more?
..... Well of course they do... But isn't that what film does... make a statement of a particular time and place and leave itself behind into history as an example of one persons view as seen at the time of making?
That however does not make or break the effoet as such... The overall quality is ever percieved by the viewer at the time it is being viewed... Changing views and perceptions can alter the overall acceptance of a particular film.
One of my favorite films of all time is "The Illustrated Man". Every time I watch it I have a different opinion of not only the film but also how the imagery it evokes applies to our current time.
Life is great for me... Most of the time... But then I meet people online... Very few are real friends... Many say they are but know nothing of what it means... Some say they are, but are so shallow...
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cossie
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On fire! |
Location: Exiled in North East Engl...
Registered: July 2003
Messages: 1699
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In fact, you can have 20 points, because I made a two-fold error! As always, I blame a combination of senile decay and malt whisky!
You are absolutely right; I did mean David Lynch, but for some reason David Cronenberg's name came to mind. I wasn't absolutely sure of the spelling, so I googled, using the 'K' spelling, and the first site to come up was an IMDb entry - so I closed google and used that spelling, glibly assuming that the name was sufficiently unusual to be unique in the industry. I can only make a grovelling apology for unforgivable sloppiness - it turns out that David Kronenberg was the child actor in 'Hulk'.
However, my point was not that Ken Loach was superior to, or more popular than David Lynch. It was simply to contrast styles; Lynch's films are filled with messages, many of which are lost on the majority of filmgoers. Loach's films, on the other hand, have little subtlety; the 'message' is the whole subject matter. Yet Loach's low budget, black-and-white BBCTV 'Wednesday Play' episode 'Cathy Come Home', broadcast in 1966, changed public opinion, and ultimately UK law in relation to homelessness. By contrast, Lynch's TV series 'Twin Peaks' was laden with hidden meanings, most of which remained firmly hidden. The original series was hugely popular, but - presumably because of the 'clever', but largely unintelligible ending, the sequel 'Fire Walk With Me' attracted a much smaller audience (at least here in the UK). Neither series left any lasting message other than the suggestion that Lynch was trying to be too clever - which was why his 1999 film 'The Straight Story' was such a pleasant surprise, especially in view of the superb performance by Richard Farnsworth.
Hence my proposition that a message which is unintelligible to the majority of filmgoers is wasted. If the 'message' is intelligible only to the select few, it does no more than massage the vanity of that small minority.
Turning to nostalgia, the word originally described a medical condition in which homesickness became obsessive. Fifty years ago, it had acquired the additional meaning of a sentimental yearning for an earlier period in the yearner's life. Now, apart from the medical condition, it simply means an affection for ANY period of the past - we can be nostalgic about times before we were born. I don't see why that cheapens the concept. I also fail to see why films based upon successful novels should seek to 'reveal something new ... about the relationships between the characters'; to my mind, the ultimate accolade one could bestow upon such a film is that it accurately reflects the intentions of the author. I'm all for clear and unambiguous messages, but these should come from original screenplays (Alan Parker's 'Mississippi Burning' might be an example), not distortions of established novels - the precise situation in which it is so often possible to see the intellectual divide between author and director.
It's a long time since I read E. M. Forster's novels, but I had read each of them before I saw the film version - and that is why I admired James Ivory's direction. Apart, perhaps, from 'Maurice', I agree that Forster's writing was intended as social commentary and, to an extent, satire - but he deliberately accentuated the superficial beauty of the settings as a counterpoint to his social/satirical message. And Forster, long before James Ivory, was obsessed with period detail. I agree that Ivory could perhaps have made the counterpoint more obvious, but I don't think he lost it entirely.
Sometimes, beautiful surroundings help to place the 'message' in focus - 'Mosquito Coast' springs to mind as an example, and British directors John Boorman and Ridley Scott have both played the nostalgia card with considerable success.
When I mentioned Forster's 'themes', I was especially thinking of the 'gay' themes which NW had previously mentioned. On a more general note, whilst I accept that - to modern eyes - Forster's world was far from idyllic, part of his satire is to convey the impression that the contemporaty UK population thought that it WAS an idyllic time.
Finally, I can't agree with the last paragraph of your post. I'm well aware that unless a novel is dramatised as a TV series it is impossible to reflect the whole story within the timescale of a film. The skilful screen writer edits out chunks which can be briefly explained in dialogue, and some sub-plots may need to be sacrificed altogether. But if the film is 'dry and sterile', the fault lies with the screenwriter and the director, not with the concept of faithful dramatisation.
Oh, and in response to Marc, I agree entirely with his admiration for 'The Illustrated Man' Improbable as it may seem, I first saw Rod Steiger in Rogers and Hammerstein's 'Oklahoma', but even that was enough to hook me on the talents of an often-underrated actor.
For a' that an' a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man tae man, the worrld o'er
Shall brithers be, for a' that.
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Hi Cossie,
Cossie said,
>I also fail to see why films based upon successful novels should seek to 'reveal something new ... about the relationships between the characters'; to my mind, the ultimate accolade one could bestow upon such a film is that it accurately reflects the intentions of the author.
You are taking my words out of context. As I said, this is an aim of conventional film-making, and not specific to film adaptations. A good adaptation will find this (how characters change over the course of the story: all good novels have rounded and dynamic characters) in the original novel and render it in cinematic form. I most certainly don't mean that the film-makers should insert entirely new ideas on characters and their relationships into the film: your entire paragraph is confusing to me because that is not what I meant.
>When I mentioned Forster's 'themes', I was especially thinking of the 'gay' themes which NW had previously mentioned. On a more general note, whilst I accept that - to modern eyes - Forster's world was far from idyllic, part of his satire is to convey the impression that the contemporaty UK population thought that it WAS an idyllic time.
Perhaps. But, while looking back with a strict historical basis it is clear it is not, if you watch a Merchant Ivory film you are likely to assume that it was, because it is made so beautiful and the characters are so at ease in their surroundings. I am arguing that this is a flaw -- albeit one that is happily ignored by most viewers (including myself when watching the films simply for entertainment).
>Finally, I can't agree with the last paragraph of your post. I'm well aware that unless a novel is dramatised as a TV series it is impossible to reflect the whole story within the timescale of a film. The skilful screen writer edits out chunks which can be briefly explained in dialogue, and some sub-plots may need to be sacrificed altogether.
I think you're being hopelessly simplistic here. Film is NOT the same medium as the novel, and you can't simply make sure you bung in all the events that can be fitted into the time frame, and discard others "which can be briefly explained in dialogue". The novel is a "tell me" medium; film is a "show me" medium. In a novel, the author can tell you how the characters are feeling, what they are thinking -- you can get right inside their heads. In film, you cannot do this easily (without resorting to devices like voiceovers) but instead you have the luxury of being able to see the expressions on their faces, their physical reactions to situations, the complex interactions between characters in a form unconstrained by words. The sequence of shots and the direction of the actors are largely unsuggested by the source novel, and yet these are the key building blocks of film. A successful adaptation relies on good screenwriting, but it also relies on the screenwriter's and director's interpretation of the novel and the screenplay. If they are good enough you may not even notice where the novelist's ideas end and their ideas start.
>But if the film is 'dry and sterile', the fault lies with the screenwriter and the director, not with the concept of faithful dramatisation.
Of course it lies with the screenwriter and director. Except where created by producers further up the chain of command, any fault is almost always with the director. This is not to say that it cannot be caused by over-faithful dramatisation -- if a screenplay is bad, then the director should rewrite it or have it rewritten. I would say that over-faithful dramatisation is paying lip service to every single key event in a book -- making sure it plays out superficially exactly as described -- but overlooking those key emotional moments that are described in the text but cannot directly be transcribed onto the screen. The director needs to have skill at interpreting those and conveying them to the actors so that they can bring across the same concept in a different way, but one that works in the medium of film rather than literature. This is not the same as introducing new concepts or ideas that weren't in the novel, but it is definitely subtle "re-interpretation".
David
[Updated on: Mon, 23 October 2006 18:42] |
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cossie
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On fire! |
Location: Exiled in North East Engl...
Registered: July 2003
Messages: 1699
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Hi, David!
On the issue of 'revealing something new', I think we had better share the spoils! I'm sorry if I took your words out of context, but on re-reading your original post it still doesn't appear to draw a distinction between dramatisations and original screenplays. But at least we seem to have reached some sort of agreement on the issue.
I'm not sure that I can agree with the second part of your post, though I accept that you have a tenable argument. Nevertheless, I repeat my previous comment that it was part of Forster's technique to portray his main characters as victims of - for example - imperialist euphoria. They believed that all was well in the best of all possible worlds, and Forster writes through their perception of the times rather than his own. And he DID reflect that perception accurately; consider the writings of that complex individual Rudyard Kipling - in so many ways a closet liberal, but firmly wedded to the idea that total freedom was the prerogative of the white Caucasian. In that sense, Ivory is faithful to Forster. It comes back to the difference between an original screenplay and a dramatisation. I agree entirely that - say - a biopic of Kipling should portray the period through our current historical perceptive, but I don't think that it is justifiable to apply the same approach to the dramatisation of a cloassic novel.
Moving on to the latter part of your post, I confess that I am a teeny weeny bit insulted by the suggestion that I am being hopelessly simplistic. How much detail could I reasonably include in five or six lines? I do fully understand the differences between the media, and even in the five lines I acknowledged the impossibilty of accurately reflecting every aspect of a novel. But I do very strongly feel that a dramatisation should be as faithful as possible to the authors intentions. The film-maker should seek to reflect those intentions rather than to 'interpret' them. I suppose that I'm fairly widely read, so I'm often more aware of digressions than the average viewer. It irritates me intensely when two characters are conflated into one to save on the casting budget. It also irritates me when wholly new elements are introduced into a dramatisation. It does NOT irritate me that parts of a novel are omitted, because in view of the parameters of the different media that is inevitable.
I'm not sure what you mean by your final comments; it seems to me to be very clear that the 'sterility' of 'The Da Vinci Code' and the most recent Harry Potter films was due to uninspired reflection of the source novels rather than to a zeal for accurate dramatisation. Let's face it, whatever your view of the source material, 'The Da Vinci Code' was a phenomenally popular novel, with plenty of action and tension - but neither the action nor the tension were adequately translated to film.
For a' that an' a' that,
It's comin' yet for a' that,
That man tae man, the worrld o'er
Shall brithers be, for a' that.
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Cossie said,
>But I do very strongly feel that a dramatisation should be as faithful as possible to the authors intentions. The film-maker should seek to reflect those intentions rather than to 'interpret' them.
Perhaps we are using different meanings of the word 'interpret'. I do not see a substantial difference between reflecting someone's intentions and interpreting them. I do not say that there is a need for complete reorganisation of the plot and the author's ideas -- there rarely is -- but that the director has to be creative enough to fill in the gaps which cannot be covered by material in the story in a way that is sympathetic to the source material. I do not understand why you do not regard this as interpretation.
>I suppose that I'm fairly widely read, so I'm often more aware of digressions than the average viewer. It irritates me intensely when two characters are conflated into one to save on the casting budget.
If that is the sole reason, then it does indeed sound irritating. But it is so dependent on circumstance -- if the character is minor then this may be necessary to prevent unnecessary complexities of the plot which would otherwise get in the way of more important themes.
Personally, I think that if it can be well justified when viewing the adaptation as a work in its own right -- it is consistent, it does not upset the purpose of the story -- then it is probably forgiveable.
>It also irritates me when wholly new elements are introduced into a dramatisation. It does NOT irritate me that parts of a novel are omitted, because in view of the parameters of the different media that is inevitable.
It doesn't sound as if you have great regard for the talents of directors and screenwriters in general. They can remove things if absolutely necessary, but for God's sake don't let them add anything or change anything? If you want to get something that is absolutely identical to the source material, read the book. It may be that subtle changes will reflect the intentions of the original author better onscreen than complete faithfulness. I do not say that things should be changed purely for the sake of being changed, but that the director should have the creative freedom to do that if it is necessary.
>It seems to me to be very clear that the 'sterility' of 'The Da Vinci Code' and the most recent Harry Potter films was due to uninspired reflection of the source novels rather than to a zeal for accurate dramatisation.
I do not see why it cannot be the result of both of those things. I think they are very closely related.
David
[Updated on: Tue, 24 October 2006 09:17] |
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