8 April 2006
Sittin' in the back row
Can there be any phrase in the world of comics more frightening than “now (or soon to be) a major movie starring …”? It happens so often that we’ve all become used to the idea that any movie version of our favourite comic title is going to be an insult to both its creator and its fans. It’s as if the movie industry is deliberately persecuting us and our medium.
However, lamentable though many comic book movies are, I’m beginning to wonder whether we haven’t all been taking this a little too personally.
Play it again, Sam
Taking an established story and/or set of characters from one age or medium and re-working them so that they better suit the tastes of another is not exactly a new phenomenon. For centuries the stories of ancient Gods, mighty heroes and monsters were told and re-told in their own way by Ancient Greeks, Ancient Romans, Mediaeval monks and, eventually, Renaissance playwrights. Look at Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida, Julius Caesar or Antony and Cleopatra. The idea wasn’t to create a whole new story but to update an established and much-loved tale for a new audience.
We tend to consider film differently. The medium is still relatively new and we still regard with considerable suspicion any attempt to film stories from other media or even to re-make or “re-imagine” (© Tim Burton!) earlier movies. After all, isn’t that just a sign that the film-makers of the day are bereft of original ideas?
Sometimes, perhaps, but not always. After all, we don’t automatically conclude that every rock group which records a cover of the band’s favourite song is necessarily devoid of ideas. So why shouldn’t a director, an actor or even a producer be free to re-tell stories that have influenced them?
Adapt to survive
The perception that it’s somehow wrong persists, I suspect, mainly because so many of these re-tellings simply fail to live up to the quality of the original. But that’s no reason for us to feel persecuted. The movies have a history of poor adaptations and it’s not exactly limited to comic book adaptations. Nor are they all universally bad.
Take novels, for example. For years the movies have taken stories from novels. Many of these are undoubtedly dreadful (see almost any recent version of Wuthering Heights) or lacklustre (1984) but others achieve a level of popularity which far surpasses that of the original material. Gone With the Wind has been loved by successive generations of movie-goers, many of whom are probably blissfully ignorant of the fact that it ever was a novel. The Lord of the Rings, long thought to be one of the most unfilmable books imaginable, has won legions of new fans for the original written epic.
And the same is true of comic books. Recent films like Elektra and The Hulk may have failed to meet the expectations of both fans and – in terms of box office receipts – their producers, but let’s not forget there have been successes. Even before the recent blockbuster successes of the X-Men films and the two Spiderman movies, both Superman and Batman had successful movie outings (in 1978 and 1989 respectively) both of which gave rise to a series of (admittedly increasingly disappointing) sequels.
The question we should be asking, then, is not why comic book adaptations are so often disappointing but why is the adaptation of any book, film, computer game or comic book so often a disappointment?
Turning off the fan
As comic fans, we often tell ourselves that the reason for a movie adaptation being below par is because the film-makers changed the original material. Either the director or the writer failed to understand the comic medium. Or the principal actors were unfamiliar with the characters. Or the studio, looking only to churn out a quick cash-in, refused to allow the film a sufficiently large budget.
I’m sure that, on many film projects, these reasons have all been valid. But I don’t believe they’re the whole story. It seems to me that – within reason – the film-makers not only should but are, more or less, obliged to change the original material. The simple truth is that what works in a comic book (or a novel or a computer game) does not necessarily work on screen.
A novel has to sell itself on the strength of the writing alone. The author’s ability to describe places, characters and events is therefore of paramount importance. A comic book has the luxury of being able to show these features and so, whilst the writing is still critical, it only has to do half the job. In a movie, the burden is shared further. You can add music, sound effects, lighting, movement and nuances of tone, gesture and facial expression. It’s a different medium and what works on screen is very different from what works on the printed page.
In this sense, fans who berate a director or producer while a movie is still being made may often be their own worst enemies. They may even be contributing to the eventual failure of the project. A slavish adherence to the expectations of a comic’s fan-base can actually be as damaging to the end result as ignoring them completely.
Of babies and bath water
I would argue that film-makers should be permitted to omit or extend or shorten certain scenes without facing a barrage of abuse from the comic’s readers. Similarly, they should be permitted to allocate larger or smaller roles to the various supporting characters with whom the fans have become familiar. I’d argue, in fact, they should even be allowed to add new scenes or characters if, in their opinion, it makes the movie better. That’s their job.
Of course, while they should be allowed to make these changes, they should also remain aware that there is a limit to how many changes they can make and still retain the loyalty of the fans. If they abandon too much of the original material’s appeal, why should any fan go to see the movie?
A good example of a successful change is the decision not to include the Tom Bombadil sequence in the movie version of The Lord of the Rings. From the point of view of the movie, it worked. His character was not essential to the appeal of the book and not critical to the core of the story. However, why should any Batman fan go to see a film called Catwoman if the central character is not Selina Kyle, she isn’t a burglar in Gotham City and she doesn’t have a soft spot for a slightly schizoid character who dresses as a bat? Even putting to one side the fact that most audiences appear to agree it was a dreadful movie, so much of Catwoman’s appeal has been jettisoned that the similarity in the title might as well be coincidental.
Well proportioned
I haven’t done the maths but, proportionate to the number of comic book inspired movies actually made, I’m not sure the genre gets as bad a deal as we tend to believe. There are movies that demonstrate an almost wilful disregard for the subject matter (dare I mention Catwoman again?) and pay the price accordingly. But there are also blockbuster successes. In addition to the obvious titles already mentioned, we should remember that Men in Black started life as a comic and there is any number of sadly under-rated gems (including one of my recent favourites, Daredevil). Is this any different to any other medium or genre? I doubt it.
But, if you’re not convinced, if you’re still feeling persecuted … think of the Tomb Raider or Mortal Kombat movies. However bad the comic book adaptations are, at least we’re getting a better deal than fans of computer games.
[The substance of this article first appeared in a slightly different form at Comic Avalanche on 9 February 2005 and is reproduced by kind permission of Mr Avalanche. The views and opinions expressed in this column are entirely those of the author. If you wish to agree or disagree with any of the views expressed in this column, please leave your comments in the Forum].>