‘Saw The Film, Wasn’t As Good As The Book!’ Andrew Douglas .............................................................pages

‘Saw the film, wasn’t as good as the book!’

Every time a popular novel is brought to the screen, the inevitable comparisons begin with the screen version often found wanting. Disappointing the expectations of those familiar with the original.

For movie fans and purists of literature this is a vexing issue leading to other questions such as should one read the book first or wait for the screen version or do the reverse? A few examples might assist those juggling the relative merits of books - whether classics or popular fiction- and their screen adaptations.

One of the most popular novels of the last century was ‘Gone with the Wind’ which a few years after its publication became a blockbuster film. I saw this film years before I read the original novel. The film is impressive and when I read the novel which is in the vicinity of 1000 pages. I was equally impressed and found that the novel filled a few gaps and minor inconsistencies in the film. Viewing the film after this, the inconsistencies and gaps were now understood and minor characters became more significant. Had I read the book beforehand, I would not have been as impressed with the film. Of course, this is not always the case. For example when a novel is more experimental in form and content, both versions can be equally impressive. Occasionally a novel may

be so unconventional, it may be decades before a screen adaptation is even attempted. The experimental novels of Virginia Woolf are a case in point. Some of her novels depart so markedly from conventional structure and themes, that it took several decades before any of them became feature film adaptions. For example, Mrs Dalloway (1925) was the first, where she abandoned the

form of the traditional English novel. Focusing on internal mental processes rather than external plot developments, It would have been difficult for filmmakers of the period to adequately convey the

Director Sally Potter and Tilda Swinton on the set of Orlando

visionary aspects of this work.

Similarly, her more radical work Orlando (1928) had to wait over sixty years before it saw a screen version. Dealing as it does with a man who

lives for serval centuries and halfway through the novel turns into a woman, it explores issues of gender and sexuality that would have to wait for a more enlightened age before they could be given a feature film treatment. Fortunately, the screen versions of these two books are more than adequate. Each complements the other and the passage of time reflects both how advanced the original work was and how film culture has evolved to accommodate formerly unconventional themes.

Each version enhances the other. So it is of less consequence which one you experience first.

With certain books like murder mysteries (a la Agatha Christie), the final denouement is pivotal to the entire story. Knowing the ending beforehand might take some of the enjoyment of reading the book or seeing the film. In this instance, it depends on whether you enjoy the printed word or the visual big screen reenactment. Either way, knowing the ending will take some of the mystery out of the viewing or the reading.

A screen version cannot be a carbon copy of its predecessor, if only for sheer logistics:a feature film is rarely more than two hours long whereas a novel is usually a few hundred pages. Inevitably, sections will be simplified or even omitted altogether. This stream-lining condenses the overall story by leaving out minor characters or subplots. Unless the original book is rather short or the film has a few sequels, there will always a degree of omission and reduction. Given this, sticklers for accuracy, will always be disappointed by the film version. For them there are always the classics (Austen, Dickens, Bronte) of which there are now many versions. This variety might placate them at least a little.

Both books and films inform and entertain. As different aspects of creative media they aren’t easily comparable even when they cover the same material.

Virginia Woolf