Literature is art, Cinema is entertainment. The old bias is still alive and kicking. It’s a shame that such a collaborative effort, one in which hundreds of people’s opinions and actions go into the process, where every detail of lighting, sound, dialogue, and camera movement is focused on in detail, can be described as a less challenging, watered down version of a novel.
But this is not always the case. Sometimes it is the film that makes the larger impact, allowing a mediocre or pulp novel plot to saturate the mainstream culture, and be remembered long after. Here are some of the films that come to mind.
Dr. Strangelove (1964): Kubrick often manages to irk the authors of his source material. Whether it’s Stephen King’s complete dissatisfaction with The Shining, Anthony Burgess’ critique that the last chapter was cut out of A Clockwork Orange, or Arthur C. Clarke having to spend the rest of his life answering the question “What the hell was 2001: A Space Odyssey about anyways?†Despite those complaints, at least those three didn’t end up like Peter George, whose serious Cold War suspense novel Red Alert was turned into a gigantic satirical jab at the government, the military, and scientific innovation. George was upset that his hard work was being played for laughs, but as time has passed, the first dark comedy has only grown more popular, since it’s still able to poke the same institutions in the eye in a way similar to The Daily Show. A novel with the same plot as George’s (so much the same that George sued the writers) was adapted into the film Fail-Safe in the same year. Two years later, George killed himself, forever incapable of appreciating how he made his mark on the twentieth century.
The Godfather (1972): Mario Puzo wrote his 1969 book as a pulp novel, mainly just trying to relate some mafia anecdotes he had learned while a journalist. Paramount Pictures, under the rule of boy wonder Robert Evans, picked up the film rights. Though Francis Ford Coppola directed, he was definitely not in control. Evans took a kind of hands on role that hadn’t been seen in
Hollywood since the golden age of the studio system, and Coppola was in constant fear that he and Marlon Brando, who he picked as the lead, would be fired. Ultimately, it was a win-win-win-win situation for all three men. Puzo never had to worry about being published again. Evans was able to prove that he wasn’t too young to head a studio. Lastly Coppola and Brando would have shakey, but redeemable futures in film with high highs and even lower lows. But the Godfather has penetrated our culture in a way that the book never could, introducing us to Al Pacino, Diane Keaton, John Cazale, and James Caan. Furthermore, The Godfather: Part II, is one of only a handful of sequels that greatly improves upon its predecessor (The Empire Strikes Back may be the only other). What significance this bears is that the film has become much greater than a work of art or mere entertainment. It is forged into our minds.
Blade Runner (1982): This may be unfair, because I for one hate reading Philip K. Dick. It’s more or less an issue with his writing style. He goes out of his way to distract the reader with strange juxtapositions. Ridley Scott’s adaptation of Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep? is a beautiful representation of a very dence text. Few people can make a noirish sci-fi masterpiece, but Scott manages to turn any genre into a real winner. The real surprise comes in Harrison Ford, who manages to really act in this one, rather than opting for sarcasm and rugged good looks. To date, it is Ford’s only film I’ve watched where I forgot halfway through that he was in it, and he’s the main character. If I were to name another science fiction movie that doesn’t completely rely on action and is more focused with identity….well I’d have to go back to Kubrick with 2001…wouldn’t I now?
Books are good. Films are good. Both can be equally challenging or shallow, it’s just people’s perceptions that have to change.