I have seen 7 screen adaptations of Anna Karenina. That probably tells you I’m a bit mad. But as a lover of literature and cinema, I’m also fascinated by adaptations—what makes a good one?
Let’s start with Anna Karenina. Among the 7 versions I have seen, the best is without doubt the 1977 series by the BBC, with Nicola Pagett. We all know filmmakers have to make cuts, we all know filmmakers have to simplify the story, but the problem with most adaptations of Anna Karenina is that they don’t convey the complexity of the characters—Karenin in early adaptations tends to be portrayed as a monster whereas Karenin in some later adaptations is portrayed more sympathetically, with Anna and Vronsky presented as shallow and selfish—the 1977 series is the only one which depicts the complexity and self-contradictions and multiple facets of Anna, Karenin, and Vronsky; the only one which reminds me of the qualities for which I love Tolstoy’s novel.
If we talk about War and Peace, Bondarchuk’s film series from 1966-1967 is popular, but I would argue that it only focuses on the epic-ness of the book. It is technically spectacular but shallow and hollow, stripping the story of depth and complexity, removing Tolstoy’s philosophical and religious ideas, reducing Pierre’s search for meaning, simplifying the “thinking characters” (Pierre and Andrei), paying little attention to emotional conflicts between characters, etc. The 1972 series by the BBC, though imperfect, shows a much better understanding of Tolstoy’s characters and ideas, and respect for the text.
This doesn’t mean I think only faithful adaptations are worthwhile, doesn’t mean I think filmmakers have to be slaves to the sources. When I complain about film adaptations, people sometimes accuse me of being a purist, but I’m not. I find it fascinating when a classic story is moved to a different setting, a different culture: the story of Dangerous Liaisons for instance is moved from 18th century France to feudal Korea in Untold Scandal, and modern-day America in Cruel Intentions; Fingersmith, set in the Victorian era, is adapted into South Korean film The Handmaiden.
Sometimes it doesn’t work quite well: Bride and Prejudice does a few clever things, moving the story of Pride and Prejudice to modern-day India and making Mr Darcy American, and it’s fun enough, but it doesn’t have the sense of urgency of Jane Austen’s novel, either in the sisters getting married or in the Wickham sub-plot; the Mrs Bennet character is therefore just vulgar and annoying; and Lalita (the equivalent of Elizabeth Bennet) comes across as nationalistic and more confrontational than witty, which gets tiresome after a while. But sometimes it works wonders: in Ran and Arashi ga oka, Kurosawa and Yoshida take King Lear and Wuthering Heights respectively as a starting point, and create something different, something very Japanese, something that stands on their own. As I wrote in a recent blog post about Wuthering Heights, Arashi ga oka is its own thing—Onimaru is not Heathcliff; Kinu is not Catherine; Hidemaru is not Hindley; Mitsuhiko is not Edgar Linton; Tae is not Isabella; Yoshimaru is not Hareton; young Kinu is not Cathy—the characters can be mapped onto Emily Bronte’s characters but they are different and their relationships are different. And yet it captures the violence, savagery, eroticism, and strangeness of Emily Bronte’s novel, which the supposedly faithful adaptations of Wuthering Heights don’t do, as most adaptations only focus on the love story, reduce the malice and brutality, and often cut the second generation.
A similar example is Clueless: loosely based on Emma and set in an American high school, it is its own thing, loved by both Jane Austen’s fans and people who have no idea it’s inspired by a 19th century novel; yet at the same time, Amy Heckerling captures the essence of Austen’s novel much better than some supposedly faithful adaptations do. What I mean is that Emma might be snobbish, she might misperceive everything, she might make a mess of people’s lives, but she means well and wants to do good and has self-reflection—we also see this in Cher in Clueless, whereas Anya Taylor-Joy and especially Gwyneth Paltrow portray Emma as bitchy, catty, even two-faced, nothing like Austen’s character.
The trouble is that most screen adaptations are not faithful adaptations which take the text seriously and show great understanding of the source story (such as the 1995 Pride and Prejudice); but they are also not interesting adaptations which take the novel as a starting point and become their own work of art (such as Jan Švankmajer’s Alice). Most adaptations are usually somewhere in the middle.
Take for example the 2005 Pride and Prejudice: it doesn’t transcend its source material and become its own thing; what we have instead is a film which focuses on the attraction and romance but neglects the theme of pride and prejudice, and the development of Elizabeth and Mr Darcy; Matthew Macfadyen’s Darcy doesn’t show much change throughout the story; and Keira Knightley’s Elizabeth often behaves out of character (can you imagine Jane Austen’s Elizabeth eavesdropping on her family members then bursting in on them? Or watching Georgina behind a door then running away like an intruder, with no manners? Or snatching a letter from her father’s hand?).
Or, take the 1999 Mansfield Park: it takes liberties but doesn’t become an original work of art; it’s just an awkward adaptation by someone who doesn’t accept Fanny Price as written by Jane Austen and turns her into something else, and has her accepting Henry Crawford at first, going against the text.
The 2022 Persuasion also seems to be an odd thing that is neither approach: perhaps I shouldn’t comment as I haven’t seen the whole film, but from what I have seen, it is neither a faithful adaptation, depicting the Regency era, nor an independent film with the story moved to the modern era; instead, Carrie Cracknell has characters of different skin colours wearing Regency costumes but speaking modern slang, and changes the character of Anne Elliot beyond recognition (it is perhaps aimed at the audience of Bridgerton).
And this is something lots of people don’t seem to understand: whenever someone criticises a film adaptation for misrepresenting or betraying the text, some people just say fidelity is unimportant and the film is its own work of art, but most of the time it isn’t—most of the time it doesn’t have enough strengths and originality, most of the time it doesn’t transcend its source material—all we’ve got is just a poor film that doesn’t quite transfer a great work of art onto the screen.
10 favourite adaptations of literary works (in chronological order):
- Rebecca (1940)
- The Innocents (1961), from The Turn of the Screw
- Tom Jones (1963)
- Woman in the Dunes (1964)
- Anna Karenina (1977)
- Ran (1985), from King Lear
- Arashi ga oka (1988), from Wuthering Heights
- Alice (1988), from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland
- The Age of Innocence (1993)
- Pride and Prejudice (1995)
I put up a twitter thread, so I will move it over here, lightly edited.
ReplyDeleteIf you ever want, unwisely, to write a book, you could write a good one about film adaptation. The draft of the book, like the chapter on adaptations of “Anna Karenina,” is scattered around the blog.
I never quite understood what you mean by “adaptation.” This helps! I use the term differently, to distribute credit. Which writer invented the characters the story? One answer for "original", another for "adaptation". That's all. The artistic purpose is no different.
I guess I am more of a purist, in the auterurist direction, with no interest in the “essence” of the original. I just want a work of art. Just tell me the old story again, but in a new way.
Hollywood has trained us to be skeptical of adaptation$, but I wish there were more, that more old movies were remade, except by directors of genius, yes, there’s the problem. You're right, in practice they are mostly duds.
Some favorite adaptations, limiting myself to cases where I knwo the source:
L'Inferno (Bertolini et al, 1911)
Sunrise (Murnau, 1927)
Snow White (Disney, 1937)
Beauty and the Beast (Cocteau, 1946)
Diary of a Country Priest (Bresson, 1951)
Hunger (Carlsen, 1966)
Young Frankenstein (Brooks, 1974)
Pelle the Conqueror (August, 1987)
Vanya on 42nd Street (Malle, 1994)
Country Life (Blakemore, 1995) - Vanya in Australia
Paris je t'aime, the last episode (Payne, 2006)
More like these, please!
"I guess I am more of a purist, in the auterurist direction, with no interest in the “essence” of the original. I just want a work of art. Just tell me the old story again, but in a new way."
DeleteThat's the thing though: I want a work of art and, in theory, don't mind changes, but most of the time, the changes only make things worse and the film/ series is not good enough to become its own thing, so all I see is how inferior it is to the source material.
There are also, I think, cases, admittedly rare, where the film-maker not only takes liberties with the plot, but also with what we may term the “essence” of the work. Or, rather, where they take elements of the original work that were peripheral, and make them central. In the novel “Pather Panchali”, for instance, Bibhutibhushan focuses (I’m simplifying, of course) on those childhood events, often apparently trivial, that shape the adult that emerges; whereas in the film, Ray was more interested in the themes of engagement with and retreat from life, and in our ability to grow with experience.
ReplyDeleteSometimes - again, very rarely - the adaptation can replace something very striking with something quite different, but equally striking. Buñuel’s film version of Benito Pérez Galdós’ “Nazarin” comes to mind here: in the novel, Nazarin experiences towards the end what could be either a mystical vision, or as hallucinations brought on by fever: it’s an extraordinary ending, and one that could have made a very powerful ending to the film also. But Buñuel discarded this, and had instead an ending that is very different, but equally striking.
In short, in adaptation, you can, I think, do whatever you like with the original material: it will be judged on how well it works. But if the adaptation falls far short of the original, then it is only natural to ask “Why did they bother?”
My long list of favourite adaptations includes Dr Strangelove, as I have also read "Red Alert". Kubrick adopts a different tone, Dr Strangelove is a completely different work, and it's brilliant.
ReplyDeleteI guess I do not spend much effort comparing. The works are the things they are, on their own.
ReplyDeleteHimadro, I am not sure, in significant works of art, that those liberties are so rare.
Perhaps it is would be helpful to say that I assume Sturgeon's Law is in effect. 90% - likely way more in this genre - of any art form is junk. Of course the changes mostly make things worse! The things not changed are also mostly worse. The answer to "why did they bother?" is mostly "cheap cash-in on a familar brand."
Di asked me how I could read a book as bad as Chernyshevsky's "What Is To Be Done?" I would have more trouble, way more trouble, getting through many of these dull Austen and "Anna Karenina" adaptations.
Hahhaha. To be fair, some of the Anna Karenina films I saw before reading the book.
DeleteI find comparison interesting, but I like comparing things anyway, even when I write about books.
I should have been clearer: it’s rare when the make drastic changes, and it still works!
ReplyDeleteBut I’m with you Tom: I too would find it difficult to sit through all those dull adaptations.
The old BBC adaptations (ie from the 70s to roughly the mid 90s) often had indifferent production values - certainly by modern standards - but they did treat the original material with respect, and often captured the feel of the novel.
I told you, it's an illness.
DeleteI might see 2 other versions of Anna Karenina.